#what the fuck does it even say on the back?

[yvesntul]

abby anderson x reader ࿐

content loss of virginity, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, use of strap

‘ come on, baby. how come you’re always getting shy on me ? ‘ abby’s hand was under your shirt, her fingers skimming the lacey material of your bra. you hated the bummed look on her face, your digits weaving themselves through her loose hair as she left kisses on your neck. ‘ i just don’t want to disappoint you, ‘ you whispered, ‘ here you are with all the experience in the world, and here i am with nothing, kind of humiliating. ‘ you cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

‘ what do you mean ? ‘ she laughed. ‘ i’ve never had sex before, abs. that’s what i mean. ‘ your hands fell to your sides as you avoided looking at the girl on top of you. ‘ hey, ‘ she cupped your chin, ‘ are you serious?’ you nodded slowly, sucking in a breath as her eyes darkened over. ‘ you’re telling me that someone as beautiful, perfect, and smart as you are hasn’t had sex with anyone ? ‘ a shy smile graced your lips from her genuine praise. ‘ abby, i’m being serious ! ‘ you hit her chest playfully.

‘ so am i. why would you think you’d disappoint me by being a virgin ? ‘ she caged you between her arms, leaving a kiss on your temple. ‘ because i want you to feel good too. ‘ you met her eyes for the first time during this whole ordeal. abby shook her head, ‘ this is about you, making you feel good would make me feel even better. ‘ she pulled you into a kiss, slotting herself between your thighs. ‘ let me do that for you, beautiful. let me make you feel good. ‘ you moaned when she grinded against your cunt, the thin material of your leggings having nothing on the rough denim of abby’s jeans.

‘ okay, ‘ you let her take off your sweatshirt, her hips grouding into yours once again. ‘ i’ll be easy i promise, ‘ she sat back on her heels, pulling down your leggings and underwear in one swoop. ‘ yeah? you like that?’ abby’s jaw clenched as she took in the naked sight of you, practically making her mouth water right there. ‘ if you want me to stop anything, just say the word baby. ‘ she picked up one of your legs, allowing your ankle to rest on her shoulder. you shuddered as abby traced your folds, her thumb teasing your clit.

‘ fuck, you’re soaked already ? ‘ you moaned once she started a steady rhythm. she continued like this until you grabbed her wrist, your shallow breaths now pants as you felt yourself getting close to your orgasm. ‘ you okay ? can’t take it ? ‘ she leaned forward, moving faster as your grip on his wrist tightened. ‘ d-don’t stop. ‘ your eyes rolled back just as you felt a finger at your entrance.

abby’s finger entered you slowly, your walls fluttering around her digit. ‘ does that hurt ? ‘ you shook your head, your hips chasing her hand for more. ‘ you’re doing so good, yn. ‘ she kissed you, the added penetration making your thighs shake. ‘ w-wait, i think i’m gonna— oh my god, ‘ you were cut off by your orgasm hitting you full force, a cry ripping itself from your throat. abby inserted a second finger, this alone making black spots dot your vision, your body thrashing against the sheets underneath you.

‘ o-okay, okay ! ‘ you tapped her arm, trying your best not to scream at the overstimulation. abby grunted, putting the same fingers she had inside of you, inside her mouth, your eyes widening as she did so. ‘ fuck, you taste so good. ‘ she was quick to discard all of her clothes, your jaw dropping at the size of her cock, having doubt in being able to take it. ‘ i can’t promise this won’t hurt baby, i’ll stop if it’s too much for you, okay ? ‘ you nodded, wrapping your arms around her neck, her lips grazing yours as she lined herself up with your entrance.

she smiled at you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before taking you in a kiss, your heart melting at the same time she pushed herself inside you, your eyes screwing shut at the pain shooting up your spine. abby groaned at the sight of you, her head dropping in the crook of your neck. ‘ holy fuck. ’ she breathed out, her large palm cupping your bra—clad tit. ‘ hurts, abs. ‘ tears stung your eyes, your nails digging into her skin. “i won’t move until you tell me to, angel.” you held her face in your hands, adjusting to her while the pain subsided.

‘ i think i’m okay now, ‘ you wrapped your legs around her waist, a whimper leaving abby’s lips as she pulled out, thrusting back into you slowly. you moaned, the stretch feeling more blissful with each stroke of her cock. within five minutes, you and abby were moaning and holding onto each other like you’d disappear if you let go. she was getting rougher the closer she got to the edge, her hand occasionally wrapping around your neck.

‘ fuck, harder, please abs. ‘ she huffed a laugh at your request, tugging your hair as she flipped you over, her fingertips digging into your hips as you took you from the back. in this position, she reached even deeper, your pussy clenching around her as she pushed your face into the pillows, muffling your screams. ‘ shit— ‘ you whimpered, moving your hips to meet hee thrusts.

abby fisted your hair, pulling you up so your back was flat against her chest. ‘ that’s it, you gonna cum on my cock, pretty girl ? ‘ she talked into your ear, her other hand coming around to rub tight circles on your clit. ‘ oh, fuck yes, ‘ you would’ve collapsed if it wasn’t for her holding you up. ‘ cum baby, i got you. ‘ as if on cue, you gasped, abby cursing at the noises escaping your mouth, ‘ oh, fuck, i’m gonna cum too. ‘ you didn’t even get a chance to go through the aftershocks of your second orgasm before she got on top of you again, still rubbing your clit as she fucked into you like she was merely using you to get herself off.

you winced, overstimulation setting in as you felt the build up of a third climax underway. ‘ you’re so good abby— ’ those words alone sent her spiraling, her hips stuttering as she reached herself at the end. ‘ give me one more, yn ‘ she grunted, her abs constricting as she switched her angle, pinning both of your thighs next to your head. ‘ abby wait— holy shit. ‘ you were sure she had crescents indented in her skin by how hard you were scratching her.

‘ there you go .. ‘ she trailed wet kisses from your chest to your neck, wiping away a tear that slid down your cheek. you panted, finally opening your eyes only to see abby smiling down at you. ‘ that’s not funny, ‘ you breathed, holding onto her hand as she rolled over to your side, ‘ that was .. better than i thought. ’ abby stroked your hair, pulling you close to her. “that was amazing, yn. i didn’t think you could be anymore perfect but i was wrong.” you smiled against her skin.

maybe it was the way your girlfriend brain was wired, but you couldn’t keep yourself from thinking about her past conquests who probably felt the same way as you did right now; literally dickmatized and on top of the world. ‘ why are you so pouty now ? ‘ she cupped your cheeks, your eyes rolling at her teasing tone. ‘ because.. you’ve made other girls feel like that too. ‘ you twirled a loose strand of her hair that framed her face.

‘ mm well if it makes you feel any better, no other girl has ever made me feel like this and can’t even compare to you. ‘

+ could y’all also have ur age in ur bio if ur interacting cs it’s getting annoying to block .. i can’t refrain minors from snooping n reading but the least u could do is respect boundaries by not interacting or following thank u

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐋 | all rights reserved — do not modify, copy, or plagiarize any of my works.

#abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #tlou #the last of us #wlw #lesbian

[evie-sturns]

wrong video - Matt Sturniolo

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summary: where your best friend matt accidentally sends you a video of him jerking off instead of the pictures you two took together earlier, you can't help but want him.

contains: smut, switch!matt, fluff.

------------------------..••°°°°••..-----------------------

matt's been my friend for years now, we've hung out the whole day today and took instagram pictures together, now we are laying on the couch together watching some random rom-com.

"matt?" i ask chirpily, looking up from my phone over at matt. his eyes gaze over to me,

"yeah?" matt mumbles, looking at my eyes.

"can you send me the pictures we took earlier, i think i should post some of then." i say, fidgeting with my fingers as i scroll aimlessly through my phone.

"oh yeah of course." matt nods, he picks up his phone again as '10 things i hate about you' blasts through the living room.

i get the notification from matt, i instantly tap on it which takes me to messages.

theres the 4 pictures we took today plus another video..?

i swipe through the pictures then make it to the video.

i press play and my eyes instantly widen.

the video starts off with the camera pointed at the blank celing, then matts hand reaches out and adjusts the camera, the camera points to just his length.

he's running his hand which is covered in rings, repeatedly up and down his dick, his tip is flushed pink and dripping precum down the long vein that travels up the side of his cock. small whimpers and curses fall from his lips before he releases.

i pause the video instantly and look over at matt whos tapping at his screen with his eyes almost bulging out of his head.

"oh fuck- shit no i didn't mean to send that!" matt panics frantically, unsending the message.

"what just happened." i breathe out with a small embarrassed laugh,

"i am so.. sorry." matt whispers, his cheeks a deep red.

i just witnessed my best friend jerking off through a video.

matt stands up and runs a hand through his hair, "i-i'm gonna go to bed." he stammers before walking out of the living room.

i dont even notice but i've been squeezing my thighs together ever since i first looked at the video, it was hot.

i pick up my phone to look at the video again, but its deleted.

the video plays through my mind over and over, i feel weird, why am i thinking about my best friend like that?

i jump up off the couch, letting the blanket fall to the floor.

i almost run down the corridor towards matt's room, i knock twice on the white wood of the door.

"mm?" matt hums shyly from inside, i creak open the door and i'm met with him laying on the bed, wearing just sweatpants and a loose chain.

"matt. i want you to fuck me." i state blankly, i dont even process what i'm saying before it spurts out my mouth.

"what?"

"sorry." i mutter,

"if you want me to fuck you i will." matt says while standing up off the bed and walking over to me.

i turn around to look at him, hes looking down at me with his eyebrows slightly raised.

i grab his chin and pull him into a passionate kiss, matt kisses me back, his tongue quickly slipping into my mouth.

he lets out a small groan against my lips, letting his submissive side slip and thats enough for me to take control.

i guide him back towards the bed, pushing him down lightly onto the mattress.

i straddle him quickly, matt looks up at me with his bright blue doe eyes.

"fuck- i need you." matt whispers as i grind myself against the bulge in his sweatpants

"do you?" i tease into his ear.

"please.." matt whines, throwing his head back as i feel him grow fully hard under me.

i shimmy my sweatpants down my legs, revealing my white lacy panties.

i tear my shirt off of my head, revealing my bare chest right infront of matt's eyes.

"you're so pretty.." he mumbles

i pull down his sweatpants, his large length springing out, the same one that i saw over text 10 minutes ago. "you ready?" he ask, tearing open a condom and rolling it on him.

"i really like you.." i whisper, hovering above his raw tip, "i like you too sweetheart." .

"you need help?" matt speaks, holding my ass and pulling my panties to the the side.

i didn't, i just wanted to feel his hands on me.

"yes,- yeah please.."

he lowers me down onto him, halfway down. suddenly he drops me, my ass colliding with his thighs, i let out a gasp as he smiles, he lifts me back up to his tip, before loweiring me again.

i press two of my manicured hands on his bare chest and push his back down onto the mattress as i start to bounce on my own,

i trace mindless shapes on his skin, "oh fuck- fuck you're so tight" he whimpers.

"im not going to last long- im sorry" matt warns, gripping my waist as i sit fully down on his dick, i rub my clit against his pelvis as i rock back and forth.

suddenly matt flips us over, my back hitting the mattress.

he groans as he slides all the way out to his tip, then pushes all the way inside me again. "fuck.."

he whimpers as he starts to thrust in and out faster "matt oh my god." i moan as he presses on my lower stomach with his free hand, so he can feel how deep he is inside of me.

i clench around his length, feeling all pleasure coarse through my body at once.

i release all over matt's dick, he finishes into his condom then pulls out of me slowly, being careful not to overstimulate me.

matt pulls off his condom and chucks it into the bin on the other side of the room,

he throws his arms up lazily, "trick shot!" he laughs

matt collapses down next to me, "you okay gorgeous?" matt says, pulling me close to him.

"i needed that" i giggle, matt scoffs lightly before picking me up.

he carrys me over to his desk and sets me down on the chair before sorting through his various clothes.

he brings me over some of his sweatpants and an old shirt, "and... arms up!" matt says, pulling the shirt onto me.

he leans over and tugs the sweatpants up my legs.

matt pulls on his pants from earlier and picks me up again, throwing me on the bed.

he flops down beside me and tugs up the covers with a small exhale.

"that was the last thing i expected from tonight." matt says, closing his eyes.

"me too honestly, not mad about it though!" i clarify with a grin.

i pick up my phone from next to me and open up matt and i's messages,

i scroll through my photos, then pick out a specific picture before sending it to matt.

matt picks up his phone, "why'd you send me something i'm right her-" matt starts but cuts himself off.

"shit.." he laughs nervously,

matt opens the picture of me naked in front of my mirror, a small gasp escaping his lips.

he tugs the covers up over his lap as i see his cheeks flush.

"please- don't delete that." he whispers.

"matt.. are you hard again?" i laugh, tugging down the covers.

matt grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.

"how could i not be when you just sent me a picture like- like that!" he protests

"it's okay" i laugh,

matt presses a kiss to my lips, "go to sleep."

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@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover r r @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae@sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom m @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @cristiana-heartzzchris @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic

[alwaysalir]

Can we talk about the first kiss because it was soooo fucking good. I have seen critiques about Penelope begging Colin but I feel like if you’re just focused on that, you’re kind of missing what this means. In the previous season, we have seen moments where she has this opportunity to open up to Colin but she shuts it down and never says how she feels. So much about part one was about Colin figuring out his feelings, but in this one moment, it was about Penelope voicing her needs. I also think the fact that she felt comfortable asking him for this, just speaks to the intimacy of their relationship before it gets romantic. It takes a great amount of trust to even be able to ask him to do this.

Colin gently approaches and he gives her a soft peck. I think Luke Newton even said it was framed in a way that it could have ended there but they go back in and Colin’s expressions are sooo good. You can see how into the moment he is.

For Penelope, it was so important for her to say what she wants, but for Colin it was sooooo important for him to experience this type of intimacy with someone he actually cares about. We know up until this point he’s only experienced this kind of intimacy with women who he has no feelings for. It always been super casual. this moment, forces him to realize that sexual intimacy does not need to leave him feeling lonely and distant that it can have a deeper meaning and invoke actual feelings of passion 

I think one of my favorite parts in this is after her Penelope pulls away from the kiss they both just stay in the embrace for a couple beats. The intimacy of that moment is so beautiful and really shows how deeply affected they both are by the kissand neither one of them can just end it.

After Penelope finally pulls away we are left with Colin who been shookth to his core by a kiss. Everything about this scene was exactly what I wanted. not only is it beautiful and intimate, but it allows both Colin and Penelope to grow as individual characters 

#bridgerton #Polin #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington

[wavesmp3]

young & stupid

yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)

you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.

genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol

Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.

Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.

So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.

But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.

“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”

“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”

“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”

You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”

He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”

This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”

“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.

“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”

“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”

You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.

“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”

You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?

And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.

You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.

You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”

“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.

You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”

He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.

“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”

You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”

“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.

He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”

And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.

It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.

“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.

“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“

You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.

“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”

Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.

“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”

You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.

That fucker.

“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.

Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”

“That was their third time asking me out.”

“And?”

“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”

“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”

He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”

You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.

“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”

“East campus. The Austin Complex.”

He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”

You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”

“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”

“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”

He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.

“Are you crazy?”

“Most people don’t think so.”

“People will honk.”

“It’s 1 am.”

You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.

“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”

He passes the light just as it turns red.

—

You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.

And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.

You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”

“Payback.”

You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.

“Excuse me?”

Fuck. Did you say that outloud?

“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.

“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”

You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”

“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”

“Lubinsky.”

Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”

“His quizzes are impossible.”

“Yeah, but he’s funny.”

You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”

He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”

“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.

“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.

“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”

He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”

You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”

He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”

You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”

“Yes.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.

Goddamn it–those eyes.

You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”

“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”

“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”

“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”

You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…

Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.

—

As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.

“Do it again.”

“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”

He points to your worksheet. “One more.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“I thought you wanted an A.”

“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”

“Just do it.”

You groan and set up another integral.

To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.

Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.

You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”

“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“

You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”

Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.

He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.

“So can we take a break now?”

He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”

You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.

“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”

“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”

“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”

You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”

He cocks his head. “No?”

You shake yours. “No.”

“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”

“How come you haven’t asked?”

He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.

You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”

“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.

“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”

“So why’d you date him then?”

For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.

The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”

He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”

Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”

He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”

Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”

His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)

“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”

You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”

He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.

—

You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.

You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.

“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”

You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”

“If we kissed?”

“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”

“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”

You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.

“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”

“Probably?” You echo.

“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.

You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”

He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?

“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”

And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”

He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.

“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.

And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?

Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.

“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”

You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”

He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.

He points to your cup. “Shot?”

You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”

—

Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.

—

The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.

“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”

“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)

“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”

You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”

Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.

“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.

“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”

Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.

“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”

Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”

You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”

“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.

They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”

“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”

Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”

Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.

“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”

The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”

Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”

You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”

Joshua leans towards you. “What?”

You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.

The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.

“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”

You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”

He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”

Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”

Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”

“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.

Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”

You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”

“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”

“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”

Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”

Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?

Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.

The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.

The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.

And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.

—

Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.

There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.

Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.

You swallow.

“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”

Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?

Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.

You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”

“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”

“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”

You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”

His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”

“It could be.”

Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.

“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.

“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.

Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”

“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”

And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.

Your phone buzzes.

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally

Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s

You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?

Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place

You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb

You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast

You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right

Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD

An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.

By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”

He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”

“Mine? Why?”

“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”

“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”

He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”

You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”

He burps. “Because of me?”

The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”

“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”

You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”

He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”

“And the occasion was…?”

He looks you dead in the eye.

“You make me nervous.”

Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.

Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.

He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.

“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.

He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”

“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.

“But I’m really sorry.”

“And I really don’t mind.”

He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”

You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”

He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.

You mumble back a ‘thanks’.

“So, what’d you think of the game?”

You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.

“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”

“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”

“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”

You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”

“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”

“Which assignment? The chem lab?”

You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”

“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”

“Okay, you’re drunk.”

“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”

Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.

“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.

“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”

“A little.”

“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”

“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.

“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”

Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”

“Did you just cringe?”

“–you smell like vomit.”

“Well, do you have clothes for me?”

“No, but I have a couch.”

He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”

—

(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.

You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)

—

When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.

As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?

Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.

“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”

“Date?”

“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.

“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”

“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”

You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.

The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.

“Come on, they’re so cute.”

“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”

“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”

“Good thing we’re not one.”

“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”

You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.

—

“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”

And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.

“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.

“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”

“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.

You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”

He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”

And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.

“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”

“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”

His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”

“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.

You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.

You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”

“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”

You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”

“Other than Soonyoung?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”

You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”

He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”

“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”

He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”

You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”

He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.

He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”

His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”

“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”

He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”

You squint at him. “Why?”

And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”

He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”

“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”

The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”

“I thought you hated the ocean.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”

You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.

“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.

Did that just happen?

Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.

He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”

He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.

And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.

—

The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.

“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.

“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”

“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.

“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”

“Yeah, but the game was fun.”

“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.

“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”

That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.

Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”

“Like what?”

“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”

“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.

You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.

“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”

This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”

But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.

Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”

After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.

He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”

“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”

Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”

You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Why?”

You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”

He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”

Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.

“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.

It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”

You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.

“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”

“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”

You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”

They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.

“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”

“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”

“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”

You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”

You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.

You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.

“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.

You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”

“What kind of rule is that?”

“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”

You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”

He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.

The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.

“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”

He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”

You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”

He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”

You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”

He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”

You kiss him.

You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.

The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.

He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.

A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”

“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.

1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath.

2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck.

3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end?

4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken?

5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him.

6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.”

7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.”

8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”

9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?”

10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say.

11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face.

12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?”

13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.”

14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.”

15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid?

16! Please, you want to beg, say something.

17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.”

18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.

The rest of the numbers blur in your head.

—

(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.

“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”

The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)

—

You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.

By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.

You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.

—

You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.

By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.

Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”

You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”

“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”

Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”

“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”

You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”

“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”

You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.

You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.

Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.

“Seungcheol called me.”

His face twitches. “Why?”

“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”

He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”

You nod.

He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.

You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”

He nods.

“Do you want a ride back?

He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“How would you get back to yours?”

“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”

He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”

The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”

“For what?”

“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”

He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”

He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”

“Where?”

“I’ll drop you home.”

You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.

Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”

“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”

Oh.

Oh.

Holy fucking shit.

He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”

You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”

He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”

You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“I don’t think–”

“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”

He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.

He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.

You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.

You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.

Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”

You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”

“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”

You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.

And you can’t help it, you grin.

You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.

“How did you get here?”

“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”

“I told you to–”

“I know what you said.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”

“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”

You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.

“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”

“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.

You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #svt scenarios #mine #young & stupid

[sturniyolos]

Angry sex with Chris while he’s your enemy keeps me up at night.

“I fucking hate you so much.” Chris says as he’s pounding into you, choking you.

“Right back at ya.” You exclaim, arching your back.

As one would say, he was a bit “ticked off” after seeing you talk with one of the guys Chris told you to never talk to, Jason.

It bothered him that he couldn’t make a scene as everyone who knows you & him know you guys both despise each other—or so they thought.

He knew when he went to this party something enevitable was going to happen, but he didn’t expect something quite like this.

After snatching you from Jason, he found the closest unoccupied room, & that’s when everything began.

Chris slapped your cheek, you moaning as a result.

“You’re such a slut, look at you. You know how much I hate sluts.” He says, moving his hand to your waist.

“Y-you love when I’m your s-slut though.” You say, making him switch positions with you so now you’re on top.

“You wanna play smart?” Chris says, looking up at you.

“I’m not playing, I am smart.” You say, started to go up and down on his hard cock.

Both of your moans become synchronized as you kept fucking him. He loved the sight of you on top of him, your pussy gripping him, not wanting to let go.

And you loved the sight of him under you, his long dick hitting your spots that only he knew.

“I hate you so much but this pussy— Fuck.” He says, throwing his head back.

“If you weren’t such a asshole, I’d be fucking you every night.” You state breathlessly, your hand creeping to his throat to choke him.

“You don’t fuck me, I fuck you ma.” Chris states, flipping both of you again so he’s on top.

He pulls out quickly, making you pissed.

“You can’t even make a girl cum, I don’t know why you act like—“ You say, but being cut off as he turns you around and starts fucking you from the back.

You moan loudly, arching your back and gripping the sheets like your life depended on it.

“Aw, you were just talking shit now look at ya. Can’t even talk can you, mama?” He says while laughing, pulling your hair so your head is up from the sheets.

Chris pulls out his phone & starts recording. Half of the reason was to embarass you, and the other half was for him, but for “no reason in particular.” Yeah. Okay.

“Look at you— does Jason make you feel like this?” Chris asks, showing your fucked out face—your mascara smeared, your tangled hair, and the slight drool coming out of your lips.

“S-shut the fuck up and f-fuck me.” You say as you look and flip off the camera, placing your middle finger in your mouth and sucking it.

“Here, I’ll make this video more enjoyable.” You state, while he’s still recording.

“Oh my God, yes daddy— harder, faster. You fuck me so good, no one does it better than you!” You said moaning loudly, mocking him. Well— part of you was mocking him, and the other part was how he actually made you feel while he was balls deep inside you— but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You always gotta be the one to win huh?” He asks, choking you from behind.

“It’s what I do, baby.” You say, looking at the camera while biting your lip.

He stops recording and throws his phone across the room. He switched positions again so you guys are in missionary.

“D-don’t you have other b-bitches to f-fuck?” You say, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“As much as I hate you with my whole entire heart, no one’s pussy is better than yours.” He says, rubbing your clit gently.

“Always so tight, wet, it’s made for me.” He says, putting a hand on your cheek.

You take his hand, and start sucking on his thumb, neither of you guys breaking eye contact.

“Are you on the pill, yet? Please tell me you are.” He says, sounding all whiny.

“Yeah I am now, why?” You ask, feeling your orgasm coming.

“Because I’m n-not pulling out, I want you to take all m-my cum. Nah, you are going to take all cum.” He says, his thrusts getting sloppy.

“Fuck C-Chris I’m gonna-“

“Hold it.”

“I need to now-“

“I said fucking hold it.”

You were holding it in as best as you can, fighting demons at this point.

“Fuck I’m cumming, let go baby.” He says rubbing your clit ferousicly.”

You guys both cum at the same time, his head going in your neck and your hands massaging his hair. He fills up your tight hole, you giggling as a result.

He pulls out slowly, you wincing at the lost in contact. He take his pointer and middle finger and slowly puts it inside of you.

“You gotta take everything, not lettin’ any go to waste.” He says taking his fingers out, and shoving it in your mouth.

“I hate you.” You say, out of breath.

“No you don’t.” He states, laughing as he cleans you up

—————————————————————————-

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

[princessbrunette]

john b made puppy!reader cum a whole bunch of times. no, not to overstimulate her — he’d thought about it, many times with his cock in his hand, but it was early days. today, he just had to be certain that she was slicked up enough to even get him inside that snug cunt.

he drags the tip through your puffy folds, watching each and every way your body jerks and twitches — audibly soaked, your arousal clicking and oozing with each grind of his hips. you were still sensitive, naturally — the taste of you still on his tongue, so he was being patient. even when he watched your hole clench around nothing and you placed a smaller hand on his wrist.

“please, i still want it daddy.” you groan, tearful and demure.

“look, i want you to know that we don’t have to do anything today if you don’t —”

“i still want it, daddy.” you suck in a breath so sharp you nearly choke on it and he raises his eyebrows, nodding in yielding.

“okay, okay. take it easy sweetheart. i’ll give you what you want.”

he watches the way his fat tip presses against your puffy pussy lips, spreading them obscenely from just the slightest pressure. john b always knew he was big, bigger than average atleast. curious eyes had decided that for himself upon taking shy glances around all-male changing rooms and locker room conversations about dick size that had friends saying ‘you’re a fucking liar, bro.’ the girls in his past had a little more experience than you, and welcomed the stretch — but looking at you below him, he wondered if this could potentially scare you off. he was about to do something he never thought he’d do, chicken out.

“bubba…” he cradles you, sliding hands under your back to hold you close and press kisses to your hot skin. john b’s voice was filled with sympathy, and if you weren’t so hazy in the head, desperate for his dick — you might’ve picked up on what he was about to say. “i don’t think it’s gonna fit, puppy.” he coo’s.

“no!” you whine petulantly. it wasn’t like you to be spoiled or demanding — but you had been preparing all week to take your boyfriend and you’d be damned if you didn’t get to atleast try to feel him inside you. “no, john b!” crestfallen, you let the hot tears race down your cheeks and his brows crease, feeling awful about it.

“i don’t want to hurt you, okay? i just —”

“make it fit, please— please make it fit john b, need it so bad!” you babble out a beg, snot pooling beneath your nose and all. he’d seen desperation, and he’d seen you cry — but never had he seen you cry in desperation for his cock. it twitches involuntarily against you, the heavy pink tip thumping your clit making you jerk, shuddering.

“heyheyheyhey— okay, okay. sweetheart, look at me. look at daddy. riiiight here.” he presses a wide hand to your chest to still you, the warmth of his palm proving to serve as some comfort as you suck in a shaky breath, bottom lip still wobbling. “thaaats my girl. breathe, okay?” he feels the thudding of your heart slow ever so slightly against his palm as you suck in slow trembling breaths. “i’m… i’m gonna try okay? but you… you need to breathe. gonna give me a heart attack, pup — jesus.” he sighs, lining himself up once more.

he decides one fluid motion might be better, so once he starts pushing in he doesn’t stop. slowly, but surely he feels your walls contract and stretch around his thickness — your jaw tense in determination as you put every muscle possible into lax, allowing john b to do what needs to be done.

“that okay? talk to me puppy how does it feel?”

“feels full.” you say through a strained tongue. you didn’t know you’d stopped breathing.

“what’d i say, hm? breathe.”

you suck in a long hard breath at this permission, and as you do so john b takes the opportunity to bottom out completely, dropping his forehead to your shoulder to let out a gravelly groan as you squeak. you feel as though you can’t even clench. there’s no space. he feels your glossy walls fluttering and trying anyway.

“happy, pup? that feel nice?”

he lifts his head, warm brown eyes searching your watery iris. there’s a softness to you suddenly, like you’d completely let go and you nod— a clammy hand pushing his wavy brown hair from his face.

“i wanna stay like this forever.”

#div by v6que #puppy!reader #john b prompt

[oukabarsburgblr]

Tongue Twisting [Dare AU]

FEATURING : AITO SOUSUKE (OC) x male reader

An annoying setter dares you to suck someone's face. Good thing your hot teammate walked in at the right time.

Short but too detailed for a drabble? has haikyuu characters as fillers because I'm too lazy to make up other ocs, voyeurism, making out, profile

Find out more under the cut!

"Still don't understand your point, Oikawa..."

(m/n) spoke with a lazy but confused grin, his eyebrows furrowing as he leaned forward from his chair he was sitting in. The brunette, standing tall in front of him had his hands on his hips.

"I'll give you the keys if you do it. It's not that hard for you, (m/n)." Oikawa smirked, his fingers spinning the bundle of keys he stole from the (h/c)'s bag earlier. Matsukawa who had dragged a chair to sit beside his standing captain quirked an eyebrow.

"If 'Zumi gets word of this, he's gonna get so pissed at you." "But he won't if (m/n) does it quick!"

A training camp had been set between Keio Shiki and Aoba Johsai for the Volleyball Men's Club. (m/n) and Oikawa both positioned as their captains of their respective teams and ever since (m/n) step foot onto the training camp's venue, Oikawa had a grudge on him seemingly for petty reasons.

(m/n) (l/n) had also been a third year setter, and a captain whose team had gone to nationals regularly representing the Saitama prefecture so Seijoh's coach had stated that the Shiki VBC team was the 'better' version of them and that got Oikawa pissed. It didn't help that Ushijima acknowledged (m/n) as a fantastic setter so he felt threatened with his position.

Since then, Oikawa would bother the (h/c) with small things, such as asking him to help clean his side of the gym, criticising his sets and serves or just straight up taking and using his stuff. Iwaizumi would knock some sense into his captain but it just so happened that both vice captains of both teams had to go run errands. Perfect.

(m/n) would have his meals in a more private area rather than the mess hall mostly due to him having to finish other duties on his laptop but Oikawa decided to infiltrate his booth and Matsukawa saw and just followed him in. His request was outrageous to say the least.

"Make out with someone."

(m/n) who was about to slurp his bowl of noodles visibly paused in his tracks and glanced at the annoying setter. He couldn't believe this was the man he was constantly compared to.

"Make out?" Oikawa grinned, seemingly proud of himself as he dangled the ring of keys he had snatched from the (h/c)'s duffle bag. "Or I'll throw this away." "...You do realise in the end, you'll get in trouble right?"

Matsukawa who had just stepped inside the lounge, froze and deadpanned at his captain. "Oikawa, what the fuck?" "Shut up, Mattsun! If you won't back me up, then leave." He whined as he tried to push the middle blocker away but the ravenette only decided to pull up a chair as (m/n) finished his meal.

The keys were access to all of the gyms and several other sections that were to be used by the volleyball teams on the property and (m/n) was in charge of keeping them safe and locked when they weren't using it and Oikawa was annoyed on how he wasn't picked.

How come he's athletic, smart, has good looks and has a nice personality?? FRAUD-

Oikawa couldn't accept someone with such a caliber existing and he was determined to find a foible somewhere in the (h/c). He continued to pester (m/n) and was about to dump the keys in a paper shredder until the (h/c) agreed. Although he doesn't exactly look mad?

"So do I have to get someone or you're picking?" (m/n) smoothened his pants, still sitting in the wooden chair as Matsukawa gaped at his relaxed expression. Even Oikawa was shocked he had agreed. "A-Anyone. Except your boyfriend!" "I don't have a boyfriend." The (h/c) deadpanned.

The setter suspected (m/n) was dating at least someone on his team, with the way they idolised and admired him. Especially his ace and his vice captain.

"How about you then?" (m/n) winked at the brunette, his finger made a 'come over here' taunt and Oikawa screeched. "You're shameless!" "You asked for it."

Matsukawa and the (h/c) was laughing at the flabbergasted brunette until the door behind them slid open and revealed an intimidating redhead. Keio Shiki's ace.

"What?" Sousuke deadpanned, confused as to why was there Seijoh's captain and annoying middle blocker in (m/n)'s private lounge, usually he would sneak away to spend time with his favourite person/crush but instead he found a grinning (h/c) and two other players from their rival team, his stomach tightened with jealousy.

Oikawa gestured to him and (m/n) laughed. "He wouldn't." "Wouldn't what?" Sousuke questioned, moving behind the suddenly cautious brunette to grab a chair, dragging it to sit between Matsukawa and (m/n).

"Would you have sex with your captain?"

Sousuke felt his heart dropped as he froze, his eyes on the ground and he heard (m/n)'s voice in the background. "He said smooching not fucking." What? Smooching not what?

The ace was confused as he peered to see the one who had asked him, Matsukawa smirking at him. "...huh?" Sleeping with his captain would be a dream come true. Hell he tried to woo the (h/c) for years if it wasn't for a certain cockblock VICE CAPTAIN-

"Like I said he wouldn't do that." (m/n) waved Matsukawa's teasing off, his eyes glancing at the redhead as he chuckled lightly. Sousuke frowned.

"I beg to differ." Oikawa was staring at the redhead, his eyes glinting as he crossed his arms, the bundle of keys nowhere to be seen. Sousuke reminded the brunette of Kyoutani, their playstyles and brash behaviour was similar, only Sousuke's style was more refined and he had been tamed by the (h/c). "If not, then I'll get someone else-"

"No." Sousuke grunted out, his fists clenching as he glanced at his captain, who was staring at him with a neutral expression. "I'll kill anyone who touches you."

"Calm down, hermano." Matsukawa whistled. "It's just kissing." The ravenette noticed the protective behaviour Sousuke had for his captain, pulling his shirt down if his skin was exposed, urging him to wash up quickly in the communal bathroom. He almost punched Oikawa in the face one time if it wasn't for Iwaizumi holding him back.

(m/n) gazed at the redhead, his eyes scanning his tense figure before he reached out and pulled his hand. "Then do you mind?" He smiled at the redhead whose cheeks flared. "What?" "Make out with me for a bit."

Oikawa's body was trembling, holding in his laugh as he slapped Matsukawa on the back repeatedly, the middle blocker cupping his mouth with his hand in excited shock. Sousuke's hand that was in (m/n)'s hold shuddered for a bit before he took a hold of himself.

"Are you going to do it with someone else?" (m/n) hummed, tapping his chin in mock thought. "Well I'm doing it for something..." He peered at Oikawa who was grinning. "Either way, if I have to then I'll have to." He nonchalantly stated, observing the agitated redhead.

"I might break their hands, (m/n)." Sousuke whispered to his captain, his hand now laying on his shoulder. "Then just swap spit with me." The (h/c) winked.

Sousuke stared at his captain for a moment, the gears in his brain moving and locking in as he grabbed his chair to sit and scoot directly in front of the (h/c) whose smile reached his eyes. Oikawa was hollering in the background and Matsukawa was holding in his cackle.

Bet he's a bottom. Oikawa didn't have a clear cut objective in his plan. He just wanted to see (m/n) melt one way or another. Sousuke was an added bonus, he was so annoyed with how good chemistry they had on the court.

Hazel scanned the (h/c)'s body, his eyes moving upwards to catch (e/c) staring at his bottom lip before they locked together. (m/n) smiled and tilted his head. "Don't regret this." "..."

Sousuke placed his hand on (m/n)'s bicep as he slowly moved forward, his breath held in. (m/n) chuckled as he closed his eyes, leaning in and he gripped the redhead's thigh, rubbing his thumb into his ace's pants.

The redhead's heart was racing, he stiffened his trembling hand as he gripped the armchair and he felt his world turned into bliss when his lips pressed against his captain's.

Sousuke was rigid as he nervously opened his mouth, panicking internally when he felt no response. "Let's go slow..." (m/n) cooed as his other hand moved to cup the redhead's jaw, his nail teasingly scratching his neck.

He flinched before humming awkwardly, closing his lips and letting his captain have his way. (m/n) gently lapping up the redhead's rough picked lips, his tongue softly swiping against the redhead's clenched mouth. His grip on Sousuke's thigh tightened.

Oikawa was laughing and taking a picture secretly, Matsukawa was hiding his smile with his hand, amused at the current scenario in front of him. A certain middle blocker is gonna be so pissed when he finds out.

The redhead cautiously opened his mouth, poking out his tongue and (m/n) seemed to stammer when it met with his. Sousuke could taste a lingering salt on (m/n)'s tongue. "Noodles for dinner?" "You know me." (m/n) chuckled before holding Sousuke's face with both of his hands and clashed their teeth.

Sousuke grunted as his breath stuttered when the (h/c) entered his mouth. He moaned when (m/n)'s tongue pressed againts his hard palate and he heard his captain's quiet laugh.

The butterflies in his stomach was raging as he forced himself to stop acting so nervous, his hands finally moved to hold (m/n) by the waist, rubbing his sides up and down. He had to swallow more than normal with how generous the (h/c) was licking his tongue, the taste of soup placating his buds and their saliva mixed.

Moving forward, Sousuke's chair scratched against the floor as he forced it closer to the (h/c)'s, desperate to have more. He couldn't believe that he was doing this. What kind of miracle did he walked upon? If any other man had sat in his position, he would have had his neck wrung.

"Nggh- hah!" He pulled his face back, panting with spit drooping down his chin. His penis was undeniably hard, the outline stretching against his jeans. Sousuke's face was hot, his cheeks red and he felt even weaker seeing the (h/c)'s expression.

(m/n) was smiling shamelessly and licked his lips, his heart fluttered and light. His own cock was also erect but he couldn't show that. The (h/c) wiped both his and Sousuke's face. "You had enough?" "..."

The redhead stayed quiet, swallowing his saliva. Sousuke wanted more, (m/n)'s tongue and drool in his mouth, or even his in the (h/c). Either way, it could never be enough. He had gotten a taste and Sousuke was Adephagia.

His hand gripped (m/n)'s lower waist, dangerously close to the plump of his ass and the (h/c) let out a quiet groan while biting his bottom lip. Half-lidded (e/c) eyes glared at burning hazel. (m/n) smiled as he felt Sousuke pulling him into his lap.

Sousuke kicked the (h/c)'s chair away as he held the captain on his lap, his left hand fondling down his back and his other rubbing (m/n)'s thigh. Their mouths were connected again and Sousuke immediately took the chance to thrust his tongue past (m/n)'s lips.

The taste of udon was more apparent now as he intruded his captain's mouth, pushing his wet muscle against the (h/c)'s. (m/n) moaned as his teeth scraped and he tried to push back. His hands are now in Sousuke's red locks, pulling and roughing them up.

(m/n) (l/n) couldn't say he never meant to end up in this position, sitting perchly in his ace's lap while sloppily making out with the redhead. Oikawa annoyed him and if the only thing that got him to shut up was for him to swallow someone's spit, then so be it. It was a plus for him too, how long had it been since he let loose anyways.

Sucking Sousuke's tongue was a different story however. He knew the redhead's obsession- passion for him. His intent gaze lingering over his figure, his rough fingertips brushing against his face and it didn't help he was handsome and so compliant under his will too. (m/n) could no longer hear the two Seijoh players laughing when Sousuke pulled him onto his lap.

His heart undeniably was pounding against his chest and now he was fiercely face fucking with his ace, Sousuke's hand dangerously hovering over his ass. (m/n) could feel the hard dick under his bosom, teasingly grinding on top of the rough jeans the redhead wore- fuck he shouldn't be doing this.

"Mmng ahh-" He pushed Sousuke away, the redhead frowning and panting with his tongue slack against his bottom lip. "We should hah- finish-" He was cut off when the redhead lapped up his jaw, making the (h/c) mewl and squirm in his hold. "Don't wanna." Sousuke mumbled, letting his tongue drag across (m/n)'s jaw.

The (h/c) huffed as his hands trembled, he leaned back, unintentionally exposing more of his neck. Sousuke brushed his fangs over (s/c) before he bit down, making (m/n) gasp and whimper as he rolled his hips.

"Y-You..." (m/n) frustratingly whined, his arousal was painful as he pressed himself down onto Sousuke's. "Hah...hah..." The redhead pulled away from the (h/c)'s neck, lust and want evident in his desperate eyes. (e/c) melted with equal need staring back.

"...my room." Sousuke immediately picked him up and walked out of the lounge, (m/n) locked his ankles around the redhead's torso. They both were still making out by the time they were out of the Seijoh's sight.

Oikawa was silent, not knowing what to say. Matsukawa was palming his face. "You should've expected that. That red hair guy was basically eye-fucking him everytime they're on the court." "I just....wanted to see him submit...not hooking up with someone."

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. "Was this supposed to be a kink? That's gross, idiot-kawa." "I JUST WANTED TO SEE HIM LOSE FOR ONCE??" "Whatever it is, he definitely won tonight." The middle blocker secretly adjusted his pants, Oikawa's face was red and blushing.

"Why the hell are you guys in here?" Iwaizumi questioned, stepping into the lounge. Hanamaki poked his head in as well.

"...nothing." "Oikawa made a horny dare." "I DID NOT!!"

Iwaizumi cringed at the setter, disappointment etched onto his face. "DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT-" He wailed and Hanamaki looked to Matsukawa for an explanation.

The middle blocker only raised his hands in mock surrender, his mind wandering to the Shiki pair. Sousuke might show up but (m/n) will definitely not be attending practice tomorrow.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

Wow me posting🤩 the last part is a bit hanging, was supposed to be more slurping but i got sleepy. I wanna ask u guys to like a post that will help my team advance in an engineering innovation competition but that will be most likely indirectly doxxing myself hm😔

I have so many long drafts...like i legit have an almost finished jinx au but goddamn i lost the spirit. Ive been neglecting daisuke ik🥰 ill come back to my big tiddy man soon.

Just finished watching the haikyuu movie yesterday and kenma is terrifying wtf. I see why ppl like him now. The first year fic boutta go crazy

Taglist :

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25

#oukabarsburg #bottom male reader #sub male reader #x male reader #aito sousuke #male reader #x bottom male reader #male reader smut #haikyuu x male reader #oc x male reader smut #oc x male reader #oc x reader smut #oc x reader #oc smut #male oc #uke male reader

[kaizynofsickness]

❝Bite❞

more wolf Sukuna and bunny reader

Warning: mentioned of sex but really none, still that height difference being poked at, tho. Biting, biting, BITING. Sukuna is just being a big baby :) still, MDNI

A/N: anyone else wanna walk around with Sukuna's teeth marks? Just me?

"bunny." Sukuna's body towers over you, his overgrown tail stiff and unmoving, four eyes just piercing down at you, making your bunny ears fold back.

Your friends, your little bunny gals, look behind you and clearly see an insanely tall wolf, his eyes only on you. What's their immediate though? Great, now our friend is some prey. Which isn't a half lie...

Your friends ears copy yours, an easy sign of some fear.

"'kuna?" You squeak, trying not to be so afraid. This is the man that wipes you down after fucking you dumb, or makes you cum for the fifth time every night, no need to be afraid. He huffs, yanking you to him with one hand (to which your friends are freaking out, they wanna help but look at the size of him) "its Sukuna to you, rabbit. Why are you here? I've been looking in those woods for so long. Thought we promised to meet up."

"s-sorry, I was talking with my friends—"

"maybe I should stuff your mouth with cock so you have nothing to even talk about."

You tense up. Not only because you're definitely going to gag and choke pathetically if he does make you give him head, but because you're friends heard. And, smart enough, they see what's going on between you to and hop away...

Your face goes cherry red, your eyebrows creased like you're mad. "Why would you say that?" Your words blur together, unable to keep cool. Sukuna scoffs as he sees your reaction, not even sharing a glance to your little bunny friends. He should've ate them.

"can't handle dirty talk now?" He mocks you, leaning down to your height in a taunting way. "I looked like a damn fool searching for you. Have you forgotten how you told me you'd be there?" He darkly whispers near your ear, using a tone that you haven't heard before... "I think—"

Chomp!

"I need to make us known."

Sukuna squeezes your small body on his, his tail coming to wrap you even closer to him and muffle all your little squeals and whines as he sinks his fangs into the middle on your shoulder blades, trailing the stinging marks up and to your nape and jaw. Your small hands go to push him off, but there was no success. "E-eek! 'kuna—ouch!" You mewl.

He grabs a hold of your cotton tail (just because he loves to) and pushes you in closer. He didn't bite hard enough to make any blood, but he definitely tore some skin. He pampers you neck and upper half with kisses before swooping you into his arms. "Better." He coldly gazes at all the painful yet pretty marks, red and purple teeth prints all over you.

"that hurt..." you angerily pout at him, "you're mean."

Sukuna ignores your little comment and walks over to his home, away from all eyes when he gets to take you for himself, only to keep you from squirming in embarrassment. He doesn't care who sees... maybe he wants that. "Please," he growls, "be lucky that was all I did, rabbit."

It was so short but I had this idea and in part one and two this was a strong idea of mine, him biting you!

˚꩜⋆.°⭑Do not copy, translate, or steal in any way, reblogs are appreciated and allowed.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen smut #ryomen x reader #ryomen x you #subby bunny #hybrid #wolf boy #ryoumen sukuna #smut fic

[gloomwitchwrites]

Locker Room

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, enemies-ish to lovers, sexual tension, arguments, suggestive themes, intimate touching, teasing, dirty thoughts

A/N: For @glitterypirateduck 's Ghost Writing Challenge. I used prompts 43, 97, & 99. (I had so much fun challenging myself to do this all in one go. I set a timer and everything.)

After finding an infuriating note on your desk, you confront Simon in the communal locker room.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

Beneath your skin is an inferno.

It’s not the kind that blazes for another, or burns in tandem with a deep yearning. This is just seething anger and blunt frustration.

You’re ready to knock out some fucking teeth.

How dare he? Who the fuck does Lieutenant Riley think he is?

When you return reports to Captain Price, you point out all the inconsistences and errors. The lack of accountability and absolute carelessness has been scratching at you for ages, and this time you had enough. Usually Price shrugs, fixes whatever you’ve marked—to a degree—and then returns them without argument.

This time? Price took one look at them and told you to talk to Simon.

Not a problem. No issue at all. You and Lieutenant Riley have always been on good terms. Sometimes, it’s been more than good. You’ve caught him staring for far too long, or he stands a bit too close as if the two of you are a couple and not coworkers. And while you’ve internalized the fantasy, it’s not like you’ve ever acted on it.

But now you’re just irritated.

You handed over the files yesterday evening, and this morning you found them back on your desk. It’s not the turnaround but Lieutenant Riley’s audacity of placing those files back on your desk with a singular sticky note.

The reports are just fine, sweetheart.

Sweetheart. Sweetheart?

The other day you imagined what it might be like to have the burly, masked man call you a pet name, but this is just fucking condescending.

Your heels clack sharply against the linoleum floor. Perhaps it’s the rage in your face, because every person you meet on your rampage steps out of your way, their gaze averted. Rounding a corner, you exit through a side door and into one of the hangars. A few people glance up, frowning, but return to their job.

Sighing heavily, you approach the nearest person. “Where’s Lieutenant Riley?”

The young man—who looks right out recruitment—glances up. He swallows and peers over his shoulder as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to say. “Locker room, ma’am?”

“Thank you,” you reply sharply, turning on your heel and heading for another door leading to the communal gym.

“But—” he begins, stumbling to his feet as you charge on. “Ma’am! You can’t—”

The door slams shut behind you and you don’t look back.

This is one of several communal spaces. There are the usual training areas on base but there are also a few gyms for those that want to get a bit of extra work in. Every head turns toward you and many don’t look away. This one is just for the men, and you’re the odd duck.

And fuck it. You don’t care. You’re too fucking mad right now to think of anything else but giving Lieutenant Riley a piece of your goddamn mind.

With everything pumping in your veins, the reality of you storming toward the locker rooms hasn’t even dawned. Hasn’t clicked. Fury laces your every step, and even here, where you’re not supposed to be, the men in your path move as if they sense the rage.

When you burst through the door and meet a wall of steam, all the heat suddenly extinguishes. Glancing around, you’re met with wide-eyed stares and surprised expressions.

Keeping your gaze as upward as you can, you clear your throat. “Where is Lieutenant Riley?”

There is only silence. Maybe if you stare at the top of the lockers for long enough, you’ll somehow gather your courage again.

“I asked where Lieutenant—”

“I’m right here.”

You turn abruptly and freeze.

Lieutenant Simon Riley stands before you in nothing but a towel. It hangs low on his hips. Other than that, the bottom-half of his face is covered up by a black mask and his dog tags dangle from his neck. His hair is a wet, tussled mess, and his chest glistens with water like he just stepped out from the shower.

Simon simply stares at you for a moment as you stand in utter silence. His gaze, which is piercing and fierce, slides away to scan the room. He doesn’t have to say anything. The rest of the men in the room grab bags and clothes, rushing to exit through the door you just entered from.

When the last man leaves, Simon rolls his shoulders, straightening his spine. It makes him appear larger, more intimidating, and that one movement draws forth a heat in your belly. This isn’t anger. This is need.

“I know what you came here for,” he says, and it’s so casual a tone that the earlier rage comes rising up.

“I’m sure you do,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

Simon says nothing. His dark eyes remain on you, unmoving and cold, yet pinning you to the spot as if you’ve been impaled by a spear.

“Are you going to apologize?”

“Why?” he asks automatically.

You scoff. “Are you fucking serious?”

“You didn’t come here for an apology.”

You uncross your arms and hold them out in front of you, bent at the elbows. “The reports—”

“The reports are fine.”

You roll your eyes and throw your hands up in the air. “There are inconsistencies everywhere. I can’t submit them as they are.”

Simon rolls his neck and then strides forward. Instinct has you stepping back, moving away, but you bump into a row of lockers. He doesn’t stop until he’s leaning over you, one large hand pressing into the metal to the side of your head.

“You’re nitpicking,” he replies.

“About lazy writing?”

“Oh, love. I assure you. I’m thorough.” At that, Simon leans in, and your hands rise instinctually, pressing against his firm chest.

Simon’s gaze doesn’t drop from your face. His entire attention is on you and that heat is back, twisting in your stomach, stirring up a slickness between your legs.

“Lieutenant,” you breathe, wanting the need between your legs to leave but also loving how close he is.

Sure, you’re pissed off but my god. The fresh scent of him is intoxicating, and you’re doing everything in your power not to lean in and lick up the droplet of water running along the side of his throat.

“Why did you come here?” He waits a beat, and when you don’t reply, Simon continues. “To argue?” He lightly pinches your bottom chin, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip, dragging it down a bit. You open your mouth involuntarily and Simon makes at sound in his throat that makes your legs weak. “To see me?” He leans in like he’s about to kiss you. “To be alone?”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you whisper.

Simon has you caged in. Pinned. The only thing separating your body and his is that towel.

“Why do you think everyone left when they did?” Simon’s thumb drops away from your lips only to press at the hollow of your throat. “It’s not because you walked in.”

“Why?” you ask, as Simon’s thumb drags lowers over your top to the space between your breasts.

“Because you’re mine. And they know it.”

“You—what?” Without anywhere to go, you can’t escape his intense stare.

“I’m staking a claim.”

“Lieutenant—”

“Simon,” he growls. “Call me Simon.”

“Simon,” you say, and he groans.

His dog tags brush against your fingers. The metal is slightly cool and damp. You curl on finger around the chain, and tug, bringing Simon’s face down to yours. If he can tease and touch, you’re going to do the same. He can’t have all the power.

Your lips brush against his through the mask, and Simon’s eyelids begin to close, revealing his gentle submission in this moment. Deepening the movement, you kiss him as if there were no barrier. This time, he truly groans, and you’d give anything to remove the barriers between you and find out what it’s like to feel him deep inside.

Fisting his dog tags in your hand, you shove him away, but only enough that there is a fraction of distance.

“Fix the fucking reports, Simon.”

Instead of kissing him again, or even touching him, you unclench your fist, releasing the dog tags. Slipping under his arm, you exit through the door and out into the gym, leaving a trail of steam in your wake.

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@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

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[riki-riks-chick]

What would the hyung line's reaction be to getting caught having sex by their parents and for the maknae line getting caught making out by their parents

Walk Ins ┃ENHYPEN

enhypen x reader

nsfw! smut

enhypen getting caught fucking/making out w their gf by their parents

═════════════

Heeseung:

"Baby.. Shh.. You're gonna get us caught." Heeseung whispers, hips moving faster in making their meet against yours as he struggles to hold back his own noises. "Fuck.. Heeseung. I'm so close." You moan, the sound getting muffled as he covers your mouth. "Shut up."

The door then opens, Heeseung's mother walking in as she pauses. "Oh.. I forgot she was here I should've knocked." She covers her eyes, sighing as Heeseung groans out of embarrassment. "Mom! Get out please!" He yells as his mother rolls her eyes behind her hand. "If you wanna have sex in peace, move out. If you guys get hungry after, I made some dinner. It's in the kitchen." She says simply before leaving.

You laugh quietly once she leaves, making Heeseung groan. "It's not funny.. She's gonna tell my dad." He whines as you shrug. "Then let's finish up before she does.."

Jay:

"Slow down. You're making the bed creak too much." You let out a quiet moan, arms wrapped loosely around Jay's neck as he thrusted into you, moving slightly too fast out of desire to reach climax faster. You were currently visiting his parents, and he just couldn't wait, so you gave in. But you immediately regretted it when his dad walked in. Jay was quick to cover your exposed skin, eyes immediately darting towards his father's. "Woah.. Uhm. Maybe I should've knocked.." His dad mumbled nervously, looking away. Jay had immediately sighed. "What do you need, dad? This is kind of awkward enough already.."

At Jay's words, his father clears his throat. "Oh well.. Uhm, I was gonna ask if you wanted to watch the game with me... Your mom said she wanted to hang out with Y/n too, but I'll just tell her you guys are busy."

He then closed the door, footsteps fading out as he walked away. You were just laying there shocked, but also not shocked. "Why did he take it so well?.." You ask as Jay sighs. "He didn't.. I'm gonna get so much shit about this tomorrow.."

Jake:

"Jake.. I swear, if your mom walks in I'm breaking up with you." You threatened as Jake laughed beneath you, his hands sliding underneath your shirt to grip your hips as he helped you move your hips on him. "She's not gonna come in. She should be sleep right now." He responds with an overly cocky tone, thrusting his hips upwards to meet yours as you bite your lip to supress a moan. You had let go slightly, deciding to believe Jake, but it's not even a moment before his mom is walking in, flipping the light switch on. "Jaeyun- oh.."

She immediately froze and so did you and Jake. "I heard a noise, so I wanted to check in.. I see you're fine. Goodnight." She then shut the lights off before leaving quickly, Jake started laughing. You slapped his chest. "That's not funny!" You were so embarrassed, but Jake couldn't stop laughing. "She's fine.. This isn't the first time it's happened."

Sunghoon:

"Park Sunghoon. We're literally at your parents house and your sister's room is across the hall. I'm not letting you fuck me right now." Is what you said thirty minutes ago when Sunghoon first said he was horny. Now he has you pressed into his mattress, and you can't even complain.

He's eager, and his second orgasm is nearing, much like yours. It's almost cruel how fast he has to stop when his dad walks in, immediately sheilding his eyes as he sees the position you two are in. "Dad, do you ever knock!?" Sunghoon sighs, covering you with the blanket as he rushed to pull his previously discarded shirt over his head. His father was clearly flustered, coughing loudly to ease the tension. "I'm sorry.. I forgot.. Your mother and I made dinner plans. If you two aren't too busy, maybe you'd like to come with us.."

Sunghoon sighs, nodding as he runs a hand through his hair. "Okay.. We'll be down soon." He responds. His dad gives a curt nod before he leaves, closing the door. Sunghoon collapses on top of you, chuckling. "He looked so scared.."

You simply laughed, kissing Sunghoon's cheek. "Let's get cleaned up, we'll finish this later."

Sunoo:

"I missed you today.." Sunoo mumbled between kisses, his hands resting on your waist comfortably. "It's not my fault you skipped school today." You retorted, earning an eyeroll from your boyfriend. He then kissed you again, pulling you closer. You were basically on top of him, straddling his lap as you played with his hair. Everything was so sweet and loving until it wasn't.

"Sunoo, I'm home-" You both immediately averted your gazes towards the living room doorway as Sunoo's mother stared slightly shocked. She always liked you and thought you were very sweet towards her son, but she'd prefer not to walk in seeing you on his lap. "Mom, I thought you were gonna be late tonight?" Sunoo asked as you held back a laugh, hiding your face against his shoulder. "I'm glad I got off work earlier, otherwise I would've come back to find that I'm gonna be a grandma."

Jungwon:

"I promise you that nothing happened between us, her crush is one sided.." Jungwon explained as you nodded, feeling more assured after seeing some other girl touching him. He had kissed you, wanting to display his love for you, and eventually you were both making out on his bed. His hands on your waist, yours on his chest. This was probably only the third or fourth time you've ever made out. And of course you regret ever doing it when Jungwon's dad walks in.

"Sorry to interrupt, your mother asked me to call you guys down for dinner..." He then leaves quickly, making Jungwon sigh. "He's never letting this go." You simply press a kiss to Jungwon's lips before getting off the bed. "It's fine. Let's hurry down stairs before he gets the chance to tell your mom."

Riki:

"I don't wanna talk about it, actually." You were upset with Riki because of something that happened after school, and he gave some stupid explanation which only made you more mad. For the sake of not arguing at his house and alerting his sisters, you told him to drop it, but he clearly didn't intend to. "Y/n, I told you that it wasn't my fault, can't you just listen."

He pressed you against the kitchen counter, trying to trap you so you had no choice but to listen. When he finally caught your gaze, he kissed you, cupping your jaw as he pulled you closer. Your anger dissipated easily, your focus falling onto the kiss as you rested your hands on his hips, looping your fingers through his belt loops. He smiled against your lips, pulling away slightly.

His eyes opened to meet yours, but he also caught his mother's gaze from his peripherals. "Hey mom." He greeted awkwardly, pulling away from you completely as his mother walked into the kitchen, setting her groceries on the counter. You had smiled and waved shyly at her.

"You know Riki, I hope this girlfriend of yours can teach you to study the way she's taught you to kiss."

═════════════

thank you so much for your request!

im trying to go as fast as possible but I'm in my last week of school so no promises on being fast for now.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hyung line #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen hard thoughts #enha smut #enhypen heeseung #sunghoon enhypen #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunoo #enhypen jungwon #niki enhypen #park jongseong #park sunghoon #jake sim #lee heeseung #yang jungwon #kim sunoo #nishimura riki #enhypen maknae line

[catherinnn]

I thought of this at work today and I couldn't stop laughing: Imagine Dustin having an older sister who's back from college. So when they need a sub for Hellfire, he asks her because she's the one that taught him how to play in the first place. As soon as she walks in Eddie's brain short-circuits because "Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl?!?!? I would've at least brushed my hair!"

Que Dustin not sure whether he should be disgusted because his sister keeps flirting with his DM all night or excited because there is now a very strong possibility Eddie could become his brother-in-law now.

Roll for Initiative eddie munson x henderson!reader warnings: nothing much really, just fluff overall. eddie self-doubts for just a second, no use of y/n, cursing. a/n: thank you so much for requesting! I really hope you like it. reblogs and comments are very very appreciated. 2.2k words masterlist

“So,” Mike starts talking, Dustin takes notice of his sarcastic tone. “Who the fuck do we know that secretly plays D&D and would want to sub for Lucas”

“Um, well…” but before Dustin can get a word out Mike interrupts him.

“I mean, we’re fucked! Eddie’s gonna hate us and kick us out of Hellfire!”

“Dude-“

“No Dustin, I’m serious! I’m gonna kill Lucas and all his stupid new friends”

“Mike! Do you remember what I told you earlier? About my sister?”

“Uh… no?” he confesses.

“Honestly! Do you ever listen to me?!” Dustin claims angrily. “What I told you is that she’s coming back home. And she used to play, dude!”

“Are you serious?” Mike exclaims, unable to believe their luck. He asks “When does she get here?”

--

Dustin's heart pounds with anticipation as he waits at the doorstep. It had been months since he last saw you, and he couldn't wait to catch up.

And as your mom’s car pulls into the driveway, Dustin cannot contain his excitement. He rushes to greet you, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his haste. You step out of the car, a weary smile on your face as you spot your little brother.

"Dustin!" you exclaim, opening your arms for a hug. "You've gotten even taller since I last saw you."

“You think so?” he asks with hope.

“Oh right? He’s turning into a whole handsome tall man already!” your mom butted into the conversation and you both cringe at her choice of words.

“Ugh, I missed you!” you hug him again and he laughs.

Once you’re inside the house, Dustin wastes no time in bombarding you with stories of his D&D campaigns. He told you about the epic battles and the incredible DM the club has. You make a mental note to tease Steve as soon as you see him since he’s no longer Dustin’s coolest older friend.

“That club sounds so fun!”

"Do you think... would you want to join our club as a sub?" he asks eagerly. "We're short one person since Lucas joined the dark side”

You frown in confusion and he explains. “He’s in the football team”

“Really?” you ask surprised.

“Yeah…” he sounds disappointed. “Anyway, would you help us? Please”

“You’re sure they won’t mind?”

“They would be so thankful if you help us beat Eddie’s ass”

“Okay, sure then” you agree laughing.

--

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!” Dustin shouts from the living room waiting impatiently for you.

“I’ve been ready for like ten minutes, you’re the one who’s taking so long” you answer calmly, not knowing what all the fuss is about.

Meanwhile in the drama room in Hawking’s High…

“Alright gentlemen, are we ready to start?” Eddie says as he walks in.

“Umm no, Dustin’s not here yet” Mike stops him.

“Well, where is he?”

“He’s probably arriving any time now”

“Wheeler, we don’t have all day-“ Eddie starts complaining but the door opening abruptly interrupts him. An agitated Dustin walks in and starts apologizing, but Eddie’s not listening to him.

The club leader still frozen mid-sentence, his brain seemingly short-circuiting as he laid eyes on you, standing by the door. He stumbled over his words, his thoughts are silent but screaming at the same time. Suddenly, the room seemed smaller, the air thicker, as if a spell had been cast upon him.

However, you’re still oblivious to the effect you had over him.

“Soo, who’s this?” Gareth finally asks after waiting for Eddie to ask that question, but he was not even moving.

“Oh, this is my sister” Dustin starts introducing you. Eddie’s trance is broken when he hears your name, the prettiest name he’s ever heard. “She’ll sub for Lucas”

“She will?” Eddie asks with a hint of hope in his voice. All of the sudden hoping Lucas won’t be able to join Hellfire ever again.

The rest of the boys are waiting expectantly for Eddie to ask you all types of question until he finds an unsatisfying enough answer and he’ll decide you can’t sub. But he never does. So Gareth starts asking if you even know how to play D&D.

“Sure she does, she was the one who taught me how to play in the first place” your brother steps in.

You tell the boys your level in the game and for some reason they all seem surprised. They start murmuring among each other. But you notice how the boy on the big throne leans over to your brother to whisper something. You play dumb and walk closer to them.

"Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl? I would've at least brushed my hair!" He whispers-shouts and a smile starts forming on your face.

You’d be lying if you said he hadn’t called your attention. His big puppy eyes, all the rings on his hand. You don’t know why he says that about his hair, you thought it looked really good like that.

At any rate, you take a seat next to your brother, which just so happens to also be next to Eddie. Happy coincidence. And you start playing, Eddie sets the scene. He makes you imagine every single little detail so you feel like you’re actually there. He makes different voices for each character which makes you giggle. He even stands up, or leans over on the table, he talks to every single one of you, not forgetting about anyone. It’s mesmerizing to see him like this.

“I love how passionate you get” you comment and it makes him smile so hard.

He noticed before, every time he would change the tone in his voice to imitate a character, you’d laugh, and now he keeps changing voices just to hear it again.

“Give me the gold! He says. Or I’ll set my hungry wolves free, right this second!” Eddie acts and without failing he’s able to hear your snorts. It distracts him in the best way possible. “You have an adorable laugh” he tells you with a smirk.

This obviously makes you giggle once more, this time with a pink blush decorating your cheeks. “Thanks, it’s just- you’re cute making all the voices”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to blush and smile once more.

Dustin notices this exchange —all of the other boys did— but he can’t decipher how he feels about it. On the one hand, he feels a little jealous and uncomfortable that you two keep flirting. But on the other hand, it would be really cool to have Eddie as his brother in law.

However, the game continues and so does the places Eddie takes you all to in your minds. So much so that at one point you start getting dizzy.

“Wait, where are we again?” you ask.

“In the mountains near the lake” Gareth answers.

“Are we close to the palace?”

“No no, the palace is behind the woods” Mike explains now. They have more of an advantage than you do, they've been playing this campaign for weeks now.

“Wh- Do you have a map?” You finally ask Eddie and he nods passing it to you.

“Here’s the palace” he comes closer and signals on the map, “and here is where you are”

“Oh, okay”

“You know, if you’re still lost I can stick around to guide you” he whispers giving the closeness.

“Well, you’re the bad guy here,” you argue imagining you’re still inside the game. “How do I know you won’t try to kill me?”

“Me?” he gasps acting offended. “I would never!”

“You already killed Jeff!” you accuse him.

“Yeah, but he’s not half as pretty as you are. I’d miss you too much” he makes sure he’s whispering very close to you now, just because if Jeff heard him he’d start acting offended. Just because of that… no other reason.

“Can we keep playing now? My mom will be here in like ten minutes to pick me up” Mike complains.

Those ten minutes fly by. Before you even realize it, Mike’s mom is honking in her car to hurry him up. And so you finish for the day, starting to gather all your things.

“You know, you owe me a pencil” you tell Eddie.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” he asks playfully.

“I only borrowed it to you! I did not gift it!”

“So you’re calling me a thief? First a killer and now a thief? Glad to know you think so badly of little old me”

“I didn't just called you that!” you say in you defence and he makes confused face, signalling you to continue talking. “I also said you’re cute. You’re a really cute thief and killer”

He starts laughing. “Are you always this charming, or is it just when I'm around?"

“I could ask you the same thing”

“Oh only with you, sweetheart” he promises.

“Me too” you admit a little shyly.

“Yeah?-” he tries to keep flirting but Dustin cuts him off.

“Are you ready? Let’s go”

“Wow, since when are you so eager to leave hellfire?” Eddie notices.

“No reason” he lies, he’s still not sure if all this flirting between you two would be something good or not.

“I think he’s a little jealous his sister is taking all of Eddie’s attention” Gareth teases him.

“No, I’m not!”

“Aw Dusty bun!” Eddie joins in the teasing.

“I’m not jealous! Ask her out for all I care!” he says but regrets it as soon as it left his mouth.

“Really?” Eddie checks in but Dustin is a very proud person, he’s not one to bend. So he nods encouraging his friend.

Good thing you know him like the palm of your hand.

“Let’s go dingus, mom’s probably waiting for us”

Eddie feels this as punch right on his chest. Did he read too much into this? Were you not actually interested? Was it just some playful flirting?

As you walk out the school and into the parking lot. You open the car so your brother can get in but tell him to wait a second, and you walk over to Eddie who was about to get in his van.

“Wait! Thief!” you call him and he turns around. “I think you should, you know… ask me out”

He feels the happiness creeping back into his body. “Yeah? I should?” his playful tone back in his voice. “Would you want to go out with a thief and a murderer?”

“If he’s as cute as you are, then I’d think about it” you make him laugh again.

“How about tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up at eight” he proposes.

“I’ll be ready”

“Good”

“Yeah, good” you walk closer to him. “See you tomorrow then” and before leaving, you give him a kiss on his cheek. Hiding your need to kiss him more after seeing his flushed face. You’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow.

Dustin sees you getting in the car with the biggest smile on your face. “Did you ask him out?”

“Um, yeah… listen-“

“It’s fine, really”

“No, listen. I know that maybe it’s a little uncomfortable to think of one of your best friends going out with me. But I promise I would never do anything to hurt him and make it weird between you two-“

“I know that, and I know he wouldn’t do that either” he interrupts you. “I’m just- I’m worried that I won’t be a priority to you or to him anymore”

“Dustin, are you kidding? You could not be more wrong about that!” you argue. “Imagine this date goes well, we’ll start hanging out at home and watch movies with you, we could go out to eat all together, go to the cinema, anything! You name it!”

And the more he thinks about it that way, the more he loves that idea.

So the next day, he helps you choose your outfit, he tells you which hairstyle will look better and then hurries you up when it’s 7:50 pm and you’re still putting mascara on.

“You look fine already! Amazing even! Grab your jacket cause he’ll be here any minute now!” and as soon as he says that, he recognizes that car outside with the loud metal music, seconds later he hears the door knocking.

“I’ll get it, mom!” he yells so his mother won’t embarrass you.

“No, you won’t. I will” you stop him before he can open the door. “Go back to your comic-book. I’ll be back in a few hours”

And he waits until you get back. 

When you finally do, he’s on the couch watching TV but mutes it as soon as he hears you.

“Hey” he notices the big smile on your face is on again. He also notices your lips are a little puffy and he cringes at that thought.  

“You can go to sleep happily now, the date went amazing” you explain. “God, I think I’m love with him!” you comment as you go up to your room.

“Already?” he judges a little.

But as you promised, the three of you hang out together most of the time. And as long as he looks away when you two kiss or ignores the fact that Eddie’s spending the night in your room after you all catch a movie and order some pizza. He’s really happy that you two found each other.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x henderson!reader

[tommysversion]

Honeypot: Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader 

Summary: Joel fucks hard. You’re a little sore. He takes the phrase “kiss it better” quite literally.

Notes: I don’t know how I got 2 fics written in 72 hours. Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s maladaptive coping mechanisms. No beta, we die like men. (As usual).

CWs: no physical description of reader but all my readers are plus size coded / friendly | reader is AFAB | pet names (darlin, baby, honey) | mentions of PIV sex | oral sex (f!receiving) | allusions to oral sex (m!receiving) | Joel cums untouched oop | big girthy unspecified age gap is alluded to but not mentioned so could feasibly be ignored | dirty talk | explicit content 18+ etc

Warm sunlight streams through the bedroom window, the gap in the curtains allowing for a beam of warmth to hit the bed just so.

You wriggle under the warm sheets, rolling onto your side to bury your face in the solid wall of muscle that is Joel, inhaling the sleep sweat sex smell of him that makes you feel at home.

Really, you’re not too sure what you are. More than just friends with benefits, but not willing to put a label on it just yet. It’s a work in progress.

A big, thick arm wraps around you, tugging you closer. As you move, you wince slightly at the sudden ache between your thighs.

“You alright there, hon’?” His Southern drawl is a low, sweet sound in your sleepy ears.

“Mmhmm,” you inhale his scent again, wriggling when you feel the hot, hard length of him against your stomach. Fuck, he’s so big. No wonder you’re aching.

“You sure?” His lips brush your throat and you shiver.

“I’m a little sore,” you admit, shy in spite of everything. You’re a little worried that he’ll take offense to it, especially when you know he took such precautions to make it easier for you. He always does. Joel is so careful with you, at least when it comes to making sure you can take him.

“Aw, hell… was I too rough with you?” He pulls away from you ever so slightly, props himself up to look down at you, soft brown eyes concerned as he watches your expression.

“No!” You jump to reassure him, because god, if you hadn’t begged him for it, begged him to be rougher, to go harder, to hold you tighter. “You’re just… really big.”

You feel like an idiot for saying it, feel like an inexperienced fool, even though that isn’t the case. He just has, even though it sounds ridiculous, a huge cock.

Joel shakes his head, and even though you can tell you’ve stroked his ego with the comment, his expression remains concerned.

“Should’ve said something…”

You give him a wry, cheeky smile as he looks down at you.

“Pretty sure I did. Several somethings. And all of them were along the line of ‘give it to me harder’ and ‘don’t stop’ and begging you to fuck me.” You remind him.

Joel laughs, in spite of the pang of guilt he feels, because you’re right. All that came out of your mouth, aside from senseless moans and mewls of pleasure, were pleas for him to keep going, begging for it harder, deeper, faster. His cock twitches against his stomach at the memory.

“‘M sorry, I got carried away.” He chews his lip, caramel eyes softening with regret.

“Aw, Joel, it’s fine,” you tell him, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Besides. If you’re that worried, you can always kiss it better?”

You’re joking mostly, being facetious, because honestly it’s nothing that a couple of days without sex and a nice hot bath won’t fix, but his expression becomes almost devious as you say it.

“Kiss it better, huh?” Joel leans down to kiss you, then gently turns you onto your back, kissing down your throat, down your chest; his hands follow, sliding down your shoulders, across the curve of your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples as he kisses down your stomach, spreading your thighs and settling between them.

“I was jo- oh!” Your sentence is cut short as he nips at your inner thigh, one muscled arm flat across your abdomen as he looks up at you.

“Shh, honey. Gonna kiss it better, just like y’asked…”

Joel is goddamn dominant most of the time. Loves making you weak, loves watching you submit. Loves impact play; he fucking loves it all, but nothing turns him into a mess more than someone who lets him eat their pussy.

Keeping his arm flat across your abdomen, so your thighs are spread for him, he presses the lightest of kisses to your clit, carefully flicking his tongue out in the tiniest of kitten licks, before he groans at the sweet salty taste of you.

“Fuck, sweetest fuckin’ pussy…” he mumbles almost to himself, unconsciously rolling his hips slightly against the silky sheets, getting the tiniest bit of friction against his suddenly throbbing cock.

Fuck, you taste so good; his tongue dips inside you, making you wriggle above him. Still, he manages to hold you in place, moaning into your cunt as he licks and sucks greedily at your folds, taking his time, making sure to be careful.

You whimper, looking down at him; his deep caramel eyes look up at you, expression thoroughly pussy drunk as he nuzzles his nose against your clit. Your head drops back against the pillows, lips parted in a desperate moan.

Joel doesn’t like showing any sort of vulnerability; it’s incredibly difficult for him to try and be soft, be caring. Even though he does care, cares far more than he lets on, he’s afraid that if he shows it, it’s a weakness to be exploited.

Either way, he’ll take this moment for all it’s worth. Take the time to connect with you, to focus entirely on you. He doesn’t even seem to realise that his hips are rolling slightly against the sheets, getting a little bit of friction - not enough, not really - against the aching length of his cock.

He nuzzles your clit again, drawing a lazy circle with his nose as his tongue laps at your slick, drinking you down with zero hesitation or concern for how wet his scruffy beard is getting. All that matters is the way you writhe and moan for him, the way your hands move to tangle in his grown out curls as he keeps your thighs apart with his broad shoulders.

“Joel…”

You draw his name out in an almost loving whine as he drags his tongue lazily through your folds. He wants, so badly, to slip a finger inside you and curl it just so, knowing just the right angle to make you fall apart for him. But he doesn’t, knowing you’re still sore and aching and it most certainly wouldn’t improve the circumstances if he did.

Instead, he keeps on teasing you, sliding his tongue inside you and fucking you with it, waiting until you’re tugging lightly at his curls to withdraw it.

“Taste like honey, baby,” he groans, rolling his hips against the sheets again, feeling the way his cock drips with his own arousal, feels it hot and sticky against his belly as he suckles your clit into his mouth, barely grazing it with his teeth, making you mewl pathetically for him.

“Joel, I’m -” you can’t get the last word out, knowing he gets the point; your cunt tightens around nothing, aching to be filled in spite of still feeling the after effects of the previous night.

He doesn’t answer you verbally, just spreads your thighs wider, gently shaking his head from side to side as he eats your cunt like it’s his last meal, greedily drinking down your slick as it pours onto his eager tongue.

Fuck, he feels good, his skilled mouth sending you over the edge before you even realise it’s happening. Gasping, tugging on his curls, your filthy little moans echo off the walls as you come apart beneath his touch.

Joel groans into your fluttering cunt, feeling your walls pulsing against his tongue, tastes the sweet salty tangy taste of your release, and that’s enough to send him, too.

Before he even realises it, his cock is throbbing, aching, balls tight as he comes entirely untouched, his spend soaking the soft hair on his stomach, the linen sheets, making him groan into you before he turns his head to one side, resting on your thigh as you recover.

Chest still heaving with rapid breaths, you prop yourself up on shaky hands to look down at the sight that is Joel Miller looking up at you with a blissful, pussy drunk expression on his handsome face.

“D-did you just cum from eating me out?” You ask, voice a little hoarse from moaning for him.

Joel gives you a half shrug from his arguably extremely comfortable position.

“‘M sixty years old, darlin’, and your pussy tastes like a goddamn honey pot. Man’s gonna cum.”

You giggle and then smirk.

“Does that mean I get to kiss you better now?”

He groans, clearly appreciative of the idea.

“Fuck. Yes. But not right now, honey. Let me just enjoy this for now, hm?”

You hum your agreement, flop back against the pillows, link your fingers with Joel, and sigh in contentment as the sunlight warms your bare skin.

Yes, you think, you’ll be more than happy for Joel to take you literally any time soon.

#joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal #my writing #my fics #Joel Miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou hbo #Joel Miller fic #the last of us hbo

[moremaybank]

tending to jj's cuts and bruises after he defends your honour... (based on this post and this request) [0.8k]

"Ow."

Your hands work diligently at the cut etched across his cheekbone from your stance between his legs. For a moment, one wanders off, stroking his non-battered cheek in a silent apology for the added pain.

"You did this to yourself," you state matter-of-factly. "No one told you to turn into the Hulk."

"Well, you don't have to be mean about it."

"I'm not trying to be mean. I just don't understand why you can't let shit go sometimes."

You move on to his split lip. A jagged, dark red line cuts through the mouth that you think about far too often. You ache to kiss it, believing that maybe you occupy the healing powers he so obviously needs, but then you think better of it.

There's no way he feels it too.

You dab a wet towel at his lip, cleaning off the dried blood, and once his mouth is free, he chooses to defend himself, thankfully with his words this go around.

"You didn't hear what he said about you, Y/N/N. I wasn't about to jus' let him get away with that shit."

Your eyes meet his, and you pause your movements. Though you appreciated his loyalty and how he'd always stick up for you no matter the cost, you never enjoy when he actually goes to those great lengths just to protect you.

Simply having him in your corner was more than you could ever ask for.

"Kelce is an idiot. I don't care what he has to say about me, and you shouldn't either."

"Well, I do. He's lucky he didn't leave in a bodybag."

Your eyes narrow at him. "You're impossible."

"'M jus' sayin," he says. His tender and sore hands travel up the sides of your thighs, warmth blossoming through you in their wake. He gives your flesh a squeeze. Funnily enough, he can no longer feel the pain flashing through them like lightning bolts now that he's touching you. "I'll never let anyone say or do anythin' to hurt you, princess. I'll always protect you."

You feel the warmth bloom in your cheeks, and you're eternally glad that he isn't holding your face the way he always does. You'd be busted if he were.

You offer him a small smile, one you can't suppress. How can you be expected to after those sentiments?

"Look, I know I probably sound like a broken record, but you can't keep putting yourself in the position to get in trouble. You're not a kid anymore, and you've had enough run-ins with the law as it is."

"'M not scared of gettin' in shit, Y/N/N."

"I'm serious," you frown down at him.

"So am I. Fuck the opps."

You scoff, wanting to wipe that devilish smirk off his face. "You sound like Pope."

"Who d'you think taught him that?"

You know he thinks this is all just a joke. Not the defending you part, but the getting in trouble with the law part. He'll always do what he feels he needs to, regardless of the possible consequences. It's just how he is. Still, you don't think it's a joke. You hate how Shoupe and the rest of them take all his indiscretions and use it as ammo to remind him that he'll never escape the southside. You'd hate to be the reason that he 'proves them right.'

"J, I mean it." You set the items that occupy your hands down on the marble counter, and grab his face in your hands, careful of his cuts and bruises. "All I'm asking is that you try and keep it together. Please. I don't like watching you get hurt."

He's silent for a moment, analyzing your words and the sincere look on your face. Yeah, you're his best friend, but it's always a nice reminder that someone actually wants to look out for him and care for him.

He likes it even better when it's you who's doing so.

The corners of his lips turn up and his hands migrate to the backs of your thighs. He uses his hold on you to urge you closer. "You're worried about me."

You give him an incredulous look. "Yes, JJ. I worry about you. After all this time, I don't even know why you question that."

"'Cause you're the only one who does."

You melt inside, and you're sure you do so on the outside as well. Your eyes soften, and to distract him from it, you go back to cleaning him up, reaching for some q-tips and the disinfectant.

His eyes flutter closed when you touch him again.

"If you wanted attention, you coulda just said so," you joke, unable to resist poking fun at him.

"Shut up," he says, laughing softly. His eyes are open again, and he looks up at you so tenderly that he wants to tell you what he's been feeling all this time.

I love you.

It's on the tip of his tongue, but when he wills it to leave his mouth, they refuse him.

He goes for the next best thing.

"Look, I'll try to...control myself. No promises, though."

A small smile graces your lips. "Thank you."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

#꒰ — daydreams ꒱ #꒰ — jj maybank ꒱ #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank brainrot #jj maybank brain rot #jj maybank concepts #jj maybank concept #jj maybank thoughts #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj maybank obx #jj maybank outer banks

[lilasamaaa]

A lapse in judgement | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genre | Angst (of course), Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.

Word count | 3.8K

Warnings | Mention of sexual activities, rejection.

Summary | The long-awaited dinner with your in-laws doesn't go as planned... Will you and your boyfriend manage to change their minds about your relationship?

Author's note | I'm back, bitches! This lovely prompt was requested, thank you for the idea Anon! I hope you all like it, please let me know what you think! ✨ (not proofread lmao)

Being the new girlfriend after the one who got away fucking sucks. Even when your lover was the one to end things. It's quite something to be the girl after the one he was supposed to spend his life with. Get married with. Have kids with. You wouldn't wish anyone to be in your place. Yet, here you are, all because you fell in love with him. Carlos Sainz. Him and his doe eyes. His impeccable hair. His charming smile. Frankly, you didn't stand a chance.

You knew who he was, of course. Formula 1 is among your fondest childhood memories, sitting in front of the TV with your siblings and parents. Each Grand Prix was a household event, and you could never bring yourself to part with the Ferrari-colored jacket you wore every race Sunday. It's been years since you've fit into it, but the memory is too precious. So, yes, you knew who he was. And you recognized him immediately when he walked through the door of your workplace, sunglasses perched on his nose.

You don't follow Formula 1 as closely as before. Just enough to keep up with the news. You don't pretend not to know who he is. What's the point in pretending?

"Back from Monza already?" you ask, wiping your hands on a clean towel.

He smiles. A polite smile, but one that seems to indicate he's not keen on chatting. Or at least, not about that. You ask him what he'd like, and he asks for anything with soy milk in it. He orders two, to go, and you smile again. Okay, you think. Understood. The exchange lasts no more than two minutes, and soon, the driver exits the coffee shop, leaving behind a lingering woody scent.

Weeks pass without crossing paths with him again, and honestly, the encounter has completely slipped your mind. That one early morning, though, you're sitting at one of the café tables, contemplating new drinks, new recipes to implement based on some customer feedback, when the little bell chimes behind you. You definitely need to stop leaving the door open to let the floor dry after your morning cleaning session.

You turn around, ready to inform the friendly customer that the café doesn't open for another twenty minutes, when you catch his gaze.

"I know you're not open yet," he starts, putting both hands in front of him. "I saw the sign. But I really need some coffee, and all the other shops are closed."

"I suppose I can make an exception for such an emergency," you say as you rise from your seat, smiling kindly at him. "What can I get you?"

"I don't remember the name of what you made for me last time, but it was incredible. There was..."

"Soy milk?"

"Yeah."

"I'm on it," you say, turning around. "Two?" you ask, feeling like you already know the answer.

"Yes, please."

You hurry behind the bar, preparing the two coffees, and you place them in front of him a few seconds later. He takes out his phone to pay and places it on the terminal, which emits a soft "beep." Then, he picks up one of the coffees before sliding the second one towards you.

"This one's for you," he says, and you barely manage to hide your surprise.

"Oh," you say. "If I had known, I wouldn't have charged you for the second one."

"But it wouldn't have been the same, then. I wouldn't have offered it to you," the driver says, winking at you before taking a step back. "Thank you so much for the favor. Have a good day!"

With that, he's gone. As you sip your hot coffee slowly, you wonder when you'll see him again next time. But already, your employees arrive and pull you from your thoughts.

"That guy outside kinda looked like Carlos Sainz, no?" Lucia, one of them, asks while tying her apron.

"You've seen him? I thought so, too," you reply with a smile.

The next time you see him is the exact opposite. You've just bid your last employee a good evening, and you're putting the chairs up on the tables in preparation for the morning cleanup. A knock on the storefront makes you look up, and you smile when you see him. You open the door, and he slips inside, slightly damp from the light rain falling outside.

"Have you ever heard of opening hours?" you ask while wiping down the countertop.

"Can't say I have," he replies with a grin, the sight making your stomach flutter.

"I think congratulations are in order," you begin, throwing the towel over your shoulder. "That was a clean win in Singapore."

"Thank you. It might be a bit late for a coffee, but would you like to grab a drink with me?"

The proposition takes you by surprise.

"Like? Right now?"

"Yeah. Right now. I know a place not far from here."

"Aren't you afraid of being seen or something?" you ask, arching a brow.

"Never with beautiful women, no."

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. You've been living in Spain for ten years, yet you don't think you'll ever get used to the natural flirty nature of its inhabitants.

"Give me ten minutes to change and close up, and I'll join you," you say, while he nods, sitting on one of the bar stools.

Carlos takes you to a dancing bar, obviously run by friends since he spends five minutes shaking hands and greeting everyone as you enter. He leads you to the back of the bar, to a secluded corner where the music is much quieter, and you can actually have a conversation. You have no idea what to say. Where do you even start with a Formula 1 driver? Someone whose life is so different, so far removed from yours. Sensing your discomfort, Carlos takes the lead, asking you questions about your café, (Did you open it by yourself?) and about your life. (Where are you from? You have an accent).

The evening passes, and the drinks flow until you find yourselves tightly pressed together on the dance floor. You're back against his chest. His hands on your hips. Yours on his neck. Swaying to the rhythm of the music, all senses heightened. His lips don't take long to seek yours, and from the wall of the bar against which he pins you, you transition to his mattress, his warm body pressed against yours.

You don't sleep much that night. You don't know if you'll ever have the chance to see him again. To have him like that again. So, you lavish your lips on his, your body against his. And in the early morning, as you wake up entangled in each other's arms, and you almost expect him to kick you out... He climbs back on top of you instead, pressing warm kisses against your mouth, your collarbones, your navel... You arrive at the café thirty minutes late, with bags under your eyes. It's never happened before, and your employees are so surprised that none of them even think to joke about your poor state.

You don't hear a word from him for the next ten days. Occasionally, you glance at the app you downloaded, which informs you about upcoming races. You know he's in Qatar. You try not to let the little voice in your head win. The one that laughs at you. That tells you that you'll never see him again. He's working, you think. He's busy. Your life goes on, though you can't help but watch for him early in the morning and late at night, your eyes lingering on the storefront.

Then, one day, he comes back. Right in the middle of the shift. Seeing him walk into the café, Lucia lets out a scream and drops the cup she was holding. "Dios mio," she says, clutching her heart. Several seated customers turn around, but nobody seems to pay attention to the tall brunette with caramel eyes whose gaze is fixated on you, from across the counter.

"Soy milk?" you ask, trying to contain your smile.

"Yes, please. Only one."

And then, he starts coming every day. Every day he's not on the other side of the world, that is. By his seventh visit, Lucia can almost serve him his coffee without spilling any, her hands shaking so much.

Outside of the café, the two of you slowly start going to museums. To restaurants. To the cinema. But there's one place you both prefer. His bed. You spend hours there, exploring each other's bodies or talking about everything and nothing. Exchanging thousands of kisses or sharing your worst childhood embarrassments. Moaning against each other or talking about your very first pet. And one evening, as you were recounting how your respective parents had met, he asks you the question.

"Speaking of that, would you like to meet them?"

Your heart skips a beat. It's been six months since you've been seeing each other. Since you've been exclusive. Since you've been a couple, in reality, even if neither of you has dared to say the word. That one, and the other. The one that starts with an L. Even though you know you do... And you sense he does too.

"I don't know," you say, resting your head against his bare chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Have you talked to your family about us?"

"Of course," Carlos says, pressing a kiss to your head. "They know I've been seing someone. And they know it's serious."

"Do they even want to meet me?"

"They haven't asked, if that's your question," your boyfriend replies. "But they never have, with anyone. They know it's something I like to do at my own pace."

You nod, and a few minutes later, the fateful dinner is set for the following Saturday. Already, the ball of anxiety that has lodged itself in your stomach grows. And soon enough, you find yourself standing in front of the door of the imposing Sainz mansion, your throat tight and your hand sweaty in Carlos'.

"Relax," the driver says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before stroking your thumb. "They're not that bad."

Carlos knocks on the door, and a young woman opens it before jumping into your boyfriend's arms. You recognize her instantly from the pictures in Carlos' phone. Blanca. As if pronouncing her name in your head had reminded her of your existence, Blanca turns her head, smiling politely in your direction.

"Nice to meet you," she says rather blankly before gesturing for you two to come inside.

You encounter his other sister, Ana, in the hallway a few seconds later. She isn't much warmer, not even offering a smile and simply saying "Welcome" before rushing to hug her brother. The reception from the two women surprises you a little, and doesn't really help you feel confident about the evening. Carlos doesn't seem phased by the situation, helping you out of your coat before guiding you to the living room where the two young women have already disappeared. You're about to walk through the door when your eyes stop on a series of frames hung across from the front door. Your heart skips a beat. Feeling you come to a halt, Carlos stops as well, following your gaze.

"Fucking hell," your boyfriend says before taking the frame off the wall and placing it upside down on the buffet below. "I'm sorry. This photo has been there for so long that they probably don't even notice it anymore," he adds, his tone apologetic.

You know he's trying to reassure you, but his words have the opposite effect. You've briefly talked about your exes. Well, more about his. Isa. The girl he was with for seven fucking years. The one his parents loved so much. Seeing a photo of them together right before meeting your in-laws is like a knife to the heart. A reminder that you're the new girl. The one replacing her. You muster a smile that you know is fake at Carlos before continuing on your way. As you arrive in the living room, his two parents stand up from the couch, rushing to their son to hug him.

The embraces last a few seconds, until they turn to you. You greet them politely, handing his mother a huge bouquet of flowers and his father a bottle of fine wine, as they thank you with strained smiles.

"I also brought chocolates from my shop for you," you continue, turning to his sisters sitting at the dining table. "They're from a small producer in Andalusia, a real treat..."

"How kind of you," Blanca says dryly.

You miss the glance that Carlos shoots his sister, behind you. A stern look. One that scream "be careful". One Blanca pretends not to see.

"Let's sit down," Carlos' mother announces, gesturing for everyone to take a seat.

Intimidated, you stick close to Carlos, sitting next to him. The table is beautiful, adorned with fine porcelain and various flowers. You smile as you spot silver napkin rings and pick up the one in front of you. Your next breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes land on the letters engraved in the metal. Isabel.

"Ah yes, sorry," Ana begins, following your gaze. "We didn't have time to make a new one. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine," you say, looking up and smiling at her.

"So, dear, what do you do?" Carlos' father asks. "Carlos told us about a café, but we didn't quite understand."

"I opened my own café a few years ago. We also serve fresh pastries that I bake every morning. It's really taking off; I have several employees now, and I'm planning to open a second one soon..."

"Did you study culinary arts?" her mother asks.

"Uh, no, I don't have any degree," you reply with a nervous laugh. "School just wasn't my thing."

Ana and Blanca exchange a glance, and you lower your head, feeling your cheeks flush. You feel Carlos' hand on your thigh, and you cast him a grateful glance, which he doesn't see, his eyes fixed on his sisters.

"And so, the two of you met at the café, is that right?" his father resumes.

"Yes, that's right," you reply with a smile. "In May, the first time."

"In May?" Ana asks, looking at her brother. "Weren't you still with Isa?"

"Are we gonna mention her all night?" Carlos snaps.

"It's just a question, no need to get upset," Ana replies, rolling her eyes.

"Did you know who he was?" Blanca asks, holding your gaze.

"Uh, yeah, I recognized him. But I served him like any other customer," you recount.

"It must be weird," Ana continues, as your attention turns from her sister to her. "To see a celebrity walk into your little café."

"It's actually not so little," Carlos says. "It's pretty well-known in Madrid. Lots of customers."

"Never been," Blanca says curtly.

Carlos's mother gestures for her daughters to follow her, and the three women disappear in the kitchen before returning a few minutes later with their hands full of various dishes.

"Carlos told us you love to eat," his mother continues, giving you a genuine smile. "It's good that he didn't choose a very slender girl, for once," she adds, as you tilt your head. Was that supposed to be a compliment?

"What are your plans after the café?" Carlos' father asks, chewing on a piece of chicken. "Now that this first project has worked out?"

"I beg your pardon?" you ask, genuinely confused.

"What are you going to do with your life now?" Ana asks.

"Well... I'm going to keep running the café? It's my sanctuary, my biggest project. I'm so proud of it, I'm not going to give it all up now."

"Oh," his father replies, eyeing you. "I'd understood it was temporary. That you were a kind of investor."

"No," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "That's... That's what I do."

The silence falls over the table, punctuated by the clinking of utensils. After a short while, Carlos's mother clears her throat, meeting your gaze.

"Forgive our questions. We're curious to get to know the person Carlos shares his life with. You have to understand, after seven years... You always know what you've lost, but you can never know what you've gained."

"And that was quite a loss," Blanca chimes in, sipping on her wine.

"You can't trust anyone these days. You never know if they love you for you or for your wallet," Ana states, looking at her perfectly manicured nails.

"Or your contact list," Blanca adds, shooting a glance your way.

"Okay," Carlos suddenly says, throwing his napkin on the table before getting up. "That's enough. We're leaving."

"What?" you say, looking up at him.

"They're clearly not ready for this. We'll come back when they finally understand that my ex is just that - my ex. Get your things, love."

You stand up, feeling your legs tremble, as Carlos' hand find the small of your back, pushing you towards the hallway.

"Don't be ridiculous," his mother says, standing up as well. "You can't expect us to forget seven years just like that."

"I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking you to respect my partner. But apparently, that's too difficult."

A few seconds later, Carlos is backing out of his parents' driveway, one arm around your seat, his gaze fixed on the rear window. In the passenger seat, you fidget with your fingers, staring at your hands and biting your lip nervously. His brows are furrowed. Jaw clenched. None of you exchange a word until you hit the main road, headlights from passing cars casting shadows on your faces.

"I'm so sorry," he finally says, stroking your thigh. "If I had known..."

"You couldn't," you reply, placing your hand on his. "I don't blame them. Seven years is no small thing."

Turning his head, his gaze meets yours.

"I won't pretend that those seven years didn't matter to me, that they meant nothing. Even though I don't have any romantic feelings for her anymore, she will always be a part of me in some way," he says, as you feel your heart tighten in your chest. "But she no longer occupies my thoughts. She's no longer imprinted under my eyelids. It's not her fingers that give me chills, her voice that makes my heart race. All day long, I think about you. I talk about you. Even at night, I dream of you. You're right beside me, so close, and yet it's not enough. You still find a way to get closer, to flow through my veins, to infiltrate every breath, every heartbeat."

"Sometimes I wish I could see myself through your eyes. That girl sounds exceptional," you say, laughing as you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes."

"She's quite something," he replies, eyes on the road. "I can't wait for them to realize."

After the disastrous first encounter with your in-laws, over six months pass before Carlos comes join you on the terrace of your shared hotel room in Jeddah, placing a coffee in front of you. Bending down to sit beside you, the pilot winces, a hand on his stomach.

"Are you okay?" you ask, running your hand through his hair.

"I feel so fucking sick," your boyfriend says, a painful grimace on his face.

"Shouldn't you see a doctor, babe?" you ask, stroking his arm. "You look awfully pale. And you haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

"I can't keep anything down," Carlos replies, throwing his head back before closing his eyes.

"Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro," you start, earning a small grin from your boyfriend.

"I just love when you call me that."

"There's no way you're getting in that car tomorrow," you insist.

You didn't think you'd be so right. Well, not to this extent. Hurrying through the corridors of the hospital, two large aluminum trays in each hand, you dodge doctors and nurses along the way, weaving through visitors until you reach the door marked with the number you're looking for. You knock on the door, slipping inside before turning around to close it behind you.

"I wasn't sure what you'd prefer, so I got both," you begin, still facing the door, handle in hand. "The paella was quite easy to find, but I admit I had to cross the entire city for..." your sentence dies in your throat when, turning around, your eyes meet those of your mother-in-law. Then your father-in-law's. And your two sisters-in-law, crowded in Carlos' small hospital room.

"Oh," you utter, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be there. I'll leave you alone," you start, turning around once again.

"No! Stay," Carlos' mother says, rising to take the trays from you.

"We're really happy to see you again," his father says, rising as well to embrace you. "Carlos was telling us how well you took care of him. Thank you so much for being there."

"That's the least I could do," you reply, feeling intimidated. "He would have done the same for me."

"I may love you, but I'm not sure I would have slept in that armchair. Or changed your blood-soaked bandage," Carlos replies, eyes half-closed, still under the influence of anesthesia.

"You did what?" Blanca asks, turning to look at you, eyes wide.

"Well, his nurse was busy and it started leaking," you shrug.

"You slept here?" his father asks.

"They wouldn't let me at first, but I didn't feel like leaving him alone in a foreign hospital."

"She annoyed the staff so much they just gave up on throwing her out," your boyfriend lets out in a laugh.

"I didn't annoy anybody," you reply quickly, fearing what his family might think.

"You threatened an intern to tie yourself to the chair."

"I didn't do that," you half-laugh, shooting your boyfriend a warning look.

Seated on the side of Carlos' bed, bickering with your boyfriend while running your hand through his hair in a loving gesture, you don't see the glance exchanged between the Sainz family.

"We were thinking about something, before you arrived..." Ana begins, her eyes finding yours. For the first time, you're not met with her harsh, cold gaze, but with gentle eyes. "We have a family house in Mallorca. We thought it would be nice to all go there together, so Carlos can recover in peace. We would be very happy if you joined us."

"It'll be a chance for us to get to know you. And to apologize for our pathetic behavior last time."

"Carlos chose you," his mother starts, smiling warmly at you. "And we all understand why."

You could cry with happiness at the thought of finally being accepted, being welcomed into the family of the person you've shared your life with for almost a year now. At no longer being the new girl. The one after the love of his life.

At the though of maybe, simply being the one.

The real one, this time.

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #cs55 x you #cs55 x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #cs55 x female reader #formula1 imagine #formula1 #formula one

[ninyard]

I just saw a post wondering what Andrew and Neil’s first proper argument is, and naturally I have to offer this:

Andrew and Neil don’t fight. They’ll ignore each other if they’re pissed off - but never for more than a few hours, or maybe until one of them has slept it off and decide it’s not worth it (usually Andrew). They’ll have tiffs but never over anything serious.

Except for in the months coming up to Andrew’s graduation. That is when I believe Andrew and Neil have their first real argument.

Andrew gets officially signed to his pro team around abouts the February of that year. It’s in a state further away that Neil expected, and since they found out, Neil keeps catching Andrew looking at apartments or researching the state and the team. He’s happy for him, of course he is, but he can’t quite identify what this feeling in his stomach is every time Andrew brings it up. The little fights that last longer than their usually bickering start not long after; Neil getting more pissed off by the little things Andrew does, Andrew having off-days with Neil more and more often, each of them asking for their own space because they know if they stay around each other they’re going to start a fight. It’s gradual in a way that they don’t realise for a little while that it’s getting worse, until just after the championship finals, and the season is officially over, when three days have passed without them talking for not much of a reason at all. Neil used his finals as an excuse, but Andrew didn’t have any good reason. After those three days, they’re finally alone in their dorm for whatever reason, and maybe Andrew has started packing or he’s just got some sort of welcome package from the team: everything explodes. Andrew tries to kiss Neil, and something feels wrong, and when Neil asks what the fuck is going on, all hell breaks loose.

Andrew doesn’t yell, of course he doesn’t, but he’s venomous. He’s asking Neil why he’s acting as if the world is going to end just because he’s graduating, he’s angry at him for becoming so dependent on his presence, he’s angry at himself for feeling like he’s found a future in Neil when this was never the plan. He was supposed to be nothing. A casual fuck, with an end date and no feelings but fuck if he can’t live his life without him now. Neil yells, because he does, and he’s angry that Andrew still seems so unsure about what they are, how comfortable they were, but suddenly things are different, and it feels like he doesn’t care. He’s angry at himself for building his life around Andrew, but he’s the only reason why Neil Josten exists. Andrew reminds him of that, and it makes everything worse.

It goes on for far too long, quickly becoming meaningless and just an excuse for either of them to vent out the frustration they’ve been keeping inside for months.

“You know that I won’t overstep your boundaries,” Neil points a finger at him. “So in your head it’s okay to treat me like shit and ignore me because you know that I will give you that space.”

He doesn’t even really think that, but every little thing, every little excuse is multiplied by a thousand when he feels this red hot rage. He hates the things that come out of his mouth, but Andrew gives it back, and his insistent refusal to back down just further butts their heads together and infuriates them both.

“I won’t chase after you because you’ve decided to allow me distance,” Andrew says, calm and ice cold. “You can’t invent boundaries for me and then be upset that they exist.”

Lows blows after low blows, unfair quips and insults from both sides, slamming of drawers and doors and throwing of things; they have never, ever fought like this before. It’s over everything and nothing at the same time. Andrew knew it was only a matter of time before campus security was called, but when he tried to tell Neil to calm down and lower his voice, it only made things worse.

They’ve been unkind and awful with each other for about an hour when Neil finds himself starting to get so furiously angry thats he’s upset, that he can feel himself being needlessly nasty with Andrew. For the first time ever he feels the tilt. He feels their foundations getting rocked, a crack in the base of the pyramid of their relationship that gives him the feeling that this might not last forever. He leaves their dorm with a slam of the door, and goes for a run. He hasn’t done that in a while, a run from his feelings, running from his problems and responsibilities. He’s not sure how long it’s been before he finds himself too far away from campus, because he just ran in a straight line.

When he checks his phone he realises he’s over an hour walk away from their dorms. He almost calls Matt, and hesitates over Coach’s phone number, but instead he clicks Andrew’s name. It’s only ringing for two rings before the ringing ends and there’s a quiet hiss at the other end of the line. Neil double checks that he’s answered, because Andrew hasn’t said anything, and brings the phone back to his ear.

“Can you come pick me up?” His breathing is heavy, all of his anger drained out through his feet with every single step that he took to get further away from their dorm.

“Where are you?” Andrew is quick to respond, and Neil can hear him already picking up his keys.

Neil tells him the name of some bar that he can see, and Andrew hangs up almost instantly afterwards. Neil starts to put his phone away, used to the abrupt endings of phone calls, but wishing he would say something more. He puts his phone away and wonders why Andrew can’t just give him something. He’s not looking for a Love you! Bye! But maybe just an answer that let him know he was listening. but then it starts to ring again, and it’s Andrew, and Neil doesn’t say anything when he answers.

“I’m leaving now,” Andrew says. There’s something in his voice. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Okay,” Neil responds. “Thank you.”

Andrew hums in acknowledgment, but this time he doesn’t hang up immediately. He hesitates, but he’s somewhere outside now.

“I will always pick you up.” He says after a while, after he’s shut his car door and the engine has rumbled to life, and maybe it sounds like I love you, I care about you, I need you. Maybe it sounds like I need you to know that i can’t lose this.

“I know,” Neil says, and it sounds like I can’t do this without you. “Thank you.”

Andrew waits a second or two then before hanging up, and Neil waits for him by the curb. Andrew is there quicker than twenty minutes later. Neither of them say anything as Neil slips into the passenger seat, and neither of them say anything as they pull away. Neither of them say anything until Andrew has switched the engine off, and the car is sitting in its parking spot. They look at each other then, and maybe then they understand what’s happening.

“I’m not above telling you that I don’t want to leave here,” leave you. “But this was always a certainty. You’ve had plenty of time to prepare.”

“I thought that I had,” Neil tells him.

It’s the truth, in some way. He realises then that all of these little fights, and growing agitation, and this almost primal urge to push Andrew away was how he’d prepared. He’s been trying his hardest to soften the blow that it would have on him, and if he pushed him away first, then it wouldn’t hurt when he inevitably pushed him back or let him go. Only, that was never going to happen, and that’s what made it worse - nothing could happen to them now that would not bring them back to each other. So when Neil pushed and pushed and pushed and Andrew was constantly hitting a wall instead of a door, all they were doing was filling the room with resentment.

They sit in the car then and talk about the reality: Andrew was moving away in just a few weeks, moving further away than they’d ever been apart. The truth was that regardless of whether or not Neil decides to spend the summer with him, August would come, and Neil would go back to PSU, and Andrew would stay wherever it was that he was staying. They’d been fighting more in a subconscious test with each other, to see if one of them were going to give up, to see it this was the thing that would finally tear them apart. They talk about that, too, as difficult as it is for Andrew to be honest about that kind of thing. Neil asks him if he thinks it would be better for them to break up, to give each other space, to let Andrew flourish on his new team and meet new people and grow into himself as a professional exy player. It’s the first time either of them have acknowledged the possibility out loud with each other, and it destroys Neil to ask it, and it destroys Andrew to hear it.

Andrew thinks about how Exy was supposed to be the deal with Kevin: how he was supposed to come off his meds, and Kevin would give him purpose, and he would find something to live for in the sport that would not love him back. Instead he gave him Neil. That was his something to live for, and while he’d started to learn how to live for himself, and he would eventually survive without him, he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. He would sooner give it all up just to keep him, and Neil knew that was the truth.

Neil thinks about how Neil was supposed to be temporary. Now it was the future, it was Andrew, it was a long and successful life. Neil Josten did not have an expiry date anymore. He could have things that were his own, things to keep, things to live for.

They knew it wouldn’t be easy, but as the evening went on, and they stay in that car and talk about the future, they’d truly come to the understanding that neither of them can lose each other. They will always be half of one another, and no amount of distance can change that. It’s hard conversation after hard conversation, and it’s emotional in the way that Andrew and Neil get emotional. All the fighting ends up being a catalyst for possibly the most personal, deep, intimate discussion they’ve ever had. There’s lots of silences and voices that threaten to raise but stay low. There’s a lot of questions, and answers, and questions without answers, too. Buts it’s needed. Andrew could not leave PSU without them having this conversation. If he had, I think they would’ve struggled a whole lot more with the distance, and the conversations they would have afterwards would’ve been far more difficult.

Ultimately that’s where they end the conversation sometime past midnight - with a semi newfound understanding of where they stand with each other, what they are, what the future means for them. It’s a fight that needed to happen, and in their own ways they apologise for the things that they said. Maybe they don’t say sorry, they just say everything is going to be okay, and distance will not be the thing that ruins this.

I don’t know. I really do think it’s a fight that’s needs to happen. I think it’s a terrible, angry, nasty argument, and they both feel awful about the things they said and did, but it had to happen. Yeah, could it have been communicated with words? Sure. But Andrew had to understand how afraid Neil was of losing him, he had to understand what Neil was doing to protect himself from it. And Neil had to understand that Andrew was always, always willing to fight for him, but he couldn’t do that if Neil wasn’t willing to see that he would.

#maybe they don’t ever fight #but if they did #if they had one break up worthy argument #I think this would be it #idk!!!!! #again clearing out the drafts #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #aftg #all for the game #mine

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part VIII / Part IX

(Completed) Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: PLEASE READ, we have reached the end of their journey and I am so sad/happy/excited about it. I don’t even know how to feel honestly. I just want to thank everyone who has commented, messaged or reblogged this story. Your kind words and funny little depressed memes have been really uplifting for me. I was actually considering just giving up on this blog when I posted the first chapter. I haven’t had much inspiration lately or interaction I feel like, and you all have helped reignite that spark within me. Summary: There’s something keeping you tied to Cooper Howard, an invisible string wrapped around you both. You’ve fought against it as long as you could but he’s not gonna let you fight for much longer.

It’s been a month and the bounty on her head gets bigger everyday. Normally the compound hires privately, they don’t like going through the agencies. He figures with Sylvie dead they’re struggling to find a new leader and they’re falling apart. Or they’re just desperate for her head on a stick. 

He sees her face everywhere, crudely drawn images of her varying in their accuracy. In some she has a hat like his on, in others her nose is the wrong shape, or her eyes are all wrong. No one seems to have a good grasp on who she is. Out of curiosity and a strange need to know she’s still alive, he’s asked around. 

There are different rumors as to where she’s hiding out. Some think she’s taken to hiding out in the caves near Filly. Anyone with half a brain knows that the area’s overrun by irradiated bears and other mutated freaks. 

There are those that say they’ve seen her wandering through the sands. Following that lead had led him nowhere. He doesn’t know where she is and it’s driving him insane. She’s like a constant itch in the back of his mind that he just can’t scratch. Days and nights are spent thinking about her and he hates it. 

He’s not sure what he’d do when he does find her. Whether he’d shoot her to repay the favor or just tie her up to keep her from leaving again. He’s conflicted on how he feels about her. He’s bothered that he feels anything towards her at all. And he knows that when she shot him, she was shooting to kill. 

She had no way of knowing that he would heal from that bullet. She’d watched him bleed out on the ground and left him for dead. He was impressed, as much as he wanted to be mad, he was almost proud in a way. 

Throughout their tumultuous lives and times together she’d always had to be guided by him. He’d shown her the ways of whatever world they were living in. She’d relied on him and he enjoyed it. The time had to come when eventually she wouldn’t need him anymore. 

It’s outside of Filly that he finds the most accurate poster of her so far. She looks like she did in their first movie together. A proper outlaw, wanted all across the Wastelands for her crimes against a bunch of sick fucks. If he could kill Sylvie again, he would. He’d kill all of them. 

Not that he’s condemning them because of what the compound’s doing. He’s dabbled in organ trade before, eaten people, he’s done a lot of fucked up shit. But he draws the line at trying to hurt her. He’s the only one who should be allowed to fuck with her.

He takes the poster down and whistles softly at the price under her name. It’s enough to keep him happy for a longtime. If he never wanted to take on another bounty he wouldn’t have to. Course, he was never in this for the money. A man’s gotta have something to entertain himself with at the end of the world. 

He wonders if she’s even still alive. Maybe a Deathclaw got her a day after she left him behind. He could have walked past her corpse and never even known it. He folds the poster up and slips it in his bag. He doesn’t know why he bothers keeping it. Possibly because it’s the closest thing to her that he’s got, but he doesn’t feel like lingering on that thought for long. 

He tugs his hat lower on his head and heads through the tunnel leading to Filly. He’s caused a lot of issues here over the years. Usually he kills most of the people who could identify him as an instigator, but he doesn’t feel like pushing his luck today. He needs more supplies and he knows Ma June won’t sell to him if he causes a fight beforehand. 

It’s louder than normal today, more people rushing around. They’re all congregating around something in the center of the marketplace. He turns to the left, heading up the stairs to try and get a better look at what’s got everyone so excited. 

“They found her!” A boy shouts, fidgeting in his spot next to him. He glances at him from under his hat and the boy pales before scurrying away from him. His lips turn up in a cruel grin and he finally gets a good look at what’s happening. 

She’s kneeling in the middle of the marketplace, two Knights on either side of her. He’s more surprised by the fact that she actually has picked up a hat in her time away from him. 

She seems to be playing into the outlaw routine more than he thought she would. 

You’re embarrassed, honestly, that you let these two idiots capture you. Them and their useless little squires. 

You’ve found odd jobs through the Brotherhood when they need assistance looking for relics of the old world. Though, you’re really not sure how much use a toaster oven can be to them, but they pay good money for it. 

Once your bounty was posted and they figured out who you were, though, that stopped being useful. You can’t even hunt bounties because the agencies would just grab you and turn you over to the compound.

They clearly didn’t give a shit about women, you don’t get why they’re making this whole Sylvie situation such a big deal. 

You had to bribe Ma June by buying some of her junk, but eventually she’d helped you find some work in Filly. The people here are stupid enough that they don’t recognize you when they see you. Most of them are high or drunk so the only thing you have to worry about is wandering hands and not stepping in the middle of their brawls. 

From the patrons of the bar you hear stories about yourself. How you slaughtered the entire compound, even the children, which is so far from the truth you can’t help but scoff. Or how you apparently slept with a ghoul and you're carrying his mutant baby. 

You don’t even know where they got that one from. 

They also seem to think you wander through the sands, shooting anyone who gets in your way. It’s a comfort that no one seems to have caught onto you yet. But it’s also disheartening to know that all that’s left of civilization is a bunch of psychopathic idiots. 

What happened to natural selection?

You know your stint in Filly is up when two Knights walk in, their squires struggling to carry their bags behind them. You pull your hat further over your head and duck behind the bar. You try to keep your back to them and let the old man, Marley, who runs the bar deal with them. 

His shaky voice is cautious as he greets them, “What are Knights doing so far out here?”

One of their distorted voices rings out through the, now quiet, bar. “We got bored. Wanted to shoot some shit.”

You roll your eyes and focus on cleaning the cup in front of you. You spit into it, not enough water to properly clean it, and scrub at it with a stained towel. Marley hums, clearly displeased with the answer. You can hear his tottering steps approaching you and wince, praying he’s not going to do what you think he is. 

He tugs on your shirt with a shaky hand and you slump forward in defeat. “Deal with these jackasses,” he mutters, taking drinks over to a different table. 

You pour the only alcohol the bar has into two cups and keep your head down as you approach. “Heard that a woman took over for Knight Damien.”

One of them scoffs and shakes his armored head, “What the fuck is this world coming to?” You don’t know how they’re planning on drinking their liquor with the helmets on but you’re not going to ask stupid questions. You drop the cups in front of them, but your hand slips and one of them tips over into a Knight’s lap. 

“I’ve got it, sire.” Their squire lunges forward and begins vigorously scrubbing their armor. Your face curls up in distaste and you’re about to walk away when a metal hand grips your wrist. 

“Holy shit, it’s her!” Oh, you’re so screwed. 

They’ve got a fucking leash on you, it’s humiliating. The scarred and dirt-covered faces of the citizens of Filly surround you. They’re all leering, shouting at you and begging the Knight’s to share in the bounty. But the Knight’s aren’t listening, they’re just congratulating each other. 

“What do you think they’ll give us?”

One of them shoves their squire and he goes toppling into his large bag, feet flailing in the air. “Hopefully better fucking squires. I’m getting sick of this one’s stupid face.” 

The squire kneels down and shouts in a shaking voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, sire!” God, you really hate these people. You wished they would just shoot you. Having to sit here and listen to them talk was making your brain go numb. 

The Knight’s distorted laugh rings out through his helmet. The other one glances over at you, “What do you think she did? I’ve never seen the compound this pissed off.”

“I dunno. Hey!” You know he’s talking to you, that they want an answer, you really don’t care to give them one. “What’d you do?” They stare at you for a moment and then he sighs when you don’t respond. He shoves his squire towards you and the kid goes stumbling over his feet. “Make her talk.”

He nods rapidly, head bobbing up and down. “Of course, sire.” Your hands twitch to your side and you give him a wicked grin as he approaches. 

He’s debating going down there and trying to help her when the first shot goes off. He doesn’t even see it happen, he just watches as one of the squires drops to the ground. 

Those who don���t want to get caught in the crossfire are quick to move away from the area, hiding in their shops or shoving past him to get through the tunnel. He heads down the stairs, taking his time and trying to figure out where the shot came from. 

The second squire moves towards her and his head flies back, a hole between his eyes and his brains splattering across the ground. One Knight shoves the other one and points at their dead squire’s, “Did you not take her fucking gun?”

He’s been in those suits. He remembers how it felt, the power you get from being in them. How they make you feel like a big man. He also remembers how fucking slow they could be. She’s on her feet and running for cover before they can even start to grab her. 

She dives behind a stall and tugs a knife out of her boot, sawing at the ropes around her wrists. He can’t reach her before the fighting starts. Someone in the remaining crowd shouts, “Grab her! Get the bounty!” And all hell breaks loose. 

Someone runs at him and he shoots them before they can grab him. Shots start going off, the Knight’s mowing down anyone who tries to swoop in on their bounty. Everyone else is shooting blindly, just trying to get rid of the competition so they can claim her bounty as their own. 

He ducks under the hail fire and slides next to her as she’s reloading her gun. She glances over at him and frowns, “Didn’t I kill you?”

He hears a shout and watches as some half-feral woman charges at them. She shoots her dead and turns back to him. He gives her a wry smile, “You want to do this now, sweetheart?”

She peers over her cover and surveys the chaos going on around them. She sighs and glances back at him, “Why aren’t you dead?” 

He tugs one of his specially made bullets out of his bag and loads it into his gun. He lifts himself to his knees and aims at the weak spot on the Knight’s chest plate. They both watch as blood explodes out of the neck of the power armor, the Knight’s friend cussing as he watches him die. 

“Next time,” she turns to look at him, “aim for the head,” he instructs. She glares at him before making her way to Ma June’s shop. He follows, not willing to let her out of his sight again, and she ducks behind the barrels of supplies in front of the shop. 

“Clearly,” she winces as the Knight’s gun starts firing off again, “I’m not making it out of here on my own.” They dive to the side as bullets rip through the barrels they’re leaning against. They’re not gonna have cover for much longer.

He grins at her, “Sounds like you’re asking me for a favor, darling.”

The sounds of screams and bodies dropping is nearly deafening. A few feet away a bullet catches a man in the throat and he drops to the ground. They watch as he chokes on his blood and tries to claw his way to safety. Steps rapidly approach them and she turns to shoot a different man, his body dropping an inch away from them. 

He turns back to her and his lips turn down, “After you tried to kill me? You want my help,” he laughs at her and she glares. 

Before she can speak a voice rings out above them, “I got her!” He shoots at the woman on the upper level above them, half of her leg gets blown off and she tumbles over the railing, narrowly missing the pair. 

He turns back to her, “You’re asking a lot, darling.”

“You’ve fucking shot me, twice. I’m not asking you for anything.” Her lips turn down in a sneer and she looks at him like the very sight of him disgusts her. “I don't need your help. I don't need you.” She glances back over her shoulder, surveying the gore and the bullets flying around them. She checks her gun and he sees just how little ammo she has left. “I’ll handle this myself.” She snaps the chamber of her gun closed and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, ignoring the angry expression on her face. 

“Look, you might not want my help, but you need it, sweetheart. Just stay here.” 

You watch as Cooper runs off, his guns firing before he’s even fully standing. You only wait a second before you’re running into Ma June’s and out her back door. She shouts at you as you barrel through her shop, knocking over her displays and shelves, but you can’t waste any time getting the hell out of dodge. 

You’re surprised Cooper was stupid enough to think you would actually wait for him. The Knight’s had called for an air evac out of Filly and if you stay there any longer you’ll be back in the compound before you can blink. 

You’ve spent a month evading them, you’re not about to let yourself get caught because of Cooper. 

You can’t believe he’s not dead. It’s not like you’ve been losing sleep over killing him, but it’s been hard to cope with the fact that you killed the man that was once the love of your life. Seeing him again, though, you wished you had shot him in his smug face. 

You’d forgotten, in the time apart, just how condescending he could be. He seemed to think you needed him to survive. You didn’t. 

At best, he provided the comfort of company. Poorly. 

Despite how much he undervalued you, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You didn’t need him to save you. You would have figured your way out of there on your own, eventually. You’ve handled yourself a month in the Wastelands without him. You learned how to carve an existence for yourself out here and you did it without help. 

You race into the woods beyond Filly, putting as much distance between you and the sounds of fighting as quickly as you can. The trees around you begin to shake, the ground vibrating and a swirl of dirt and leaves rises into the air and whips you in the face. 

You look up and begin pushing yourself faster. One of the Brotherhood’s Vertibird’s is circling Filly. “This is not a hostile landing! Please remain calm!” You blame your distraction on the announcement. 

You would have heard him coming up behind you if you hadn’t been listening to whatever the Brotherhood was saying. Rope loops around your arms and you’re yanked backwards. Your head thumps painfully hard against the forest floor, rocks scraping you as you’re dragged across the ground. 

Cooper’s face appears over yours, a cruel smile on his lips. “Now, this seems awfully familiar.” He walks around you, boots straddling your waist and grabs you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back to your feet. “I thought I told you to stay put, sweetheart.”

You frown at him, shoving your leg up between his. He groans, doubling over while you shimmy out of the loose rope. “Honestly, after all the shit that’s happened you think I’m gonna listen to anything you say?” You step back from him, brushing the dirt off your clothes as best you can. 

You sigh in frustration when you realize that when the Knight’s had grabbed you, you’d lost your supplies. Cooper looks up at you and scoffs, “Missing something?” You eye his bag on the ground and start to go for it. He pulls the hammer of his gun back and you glance towards him. You’d forgotten what a quick draw he could be.

He’s fully recovered now, eyes narrowed in on you and gun pointed right at your chest. “See, a bullet to the chest might not kill me, but I reckon it’ll do a hell of a lot of damage to you. Why don’t you back up for me, sweetheart?”

You let go of his bag and slowly back away from him. He keeps his gun trained on you and stoops down, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. Your eyes dart to the hat on his head and your lips curl up when you spot the hole you’d put in it. 

Two hundred years and he’s kept that hat nearly pristine, you take no small amount of pride in being the one to ruin it. 

“The Brotherhood will be swarming these woods in a few minutes. They’re not gonna be too happy about one of their Knight’s being dead. Come with me, I can help you out.”

You scoff, “Like I’ll ever trust you again. You’ve shot me, sold me, and left me for dead, Cooper.”

He huffs, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a sardonic grin. You can tell he’s getting pissed off. “The choice is yours,” he tucks his gun back in his holster and turns on his heels. You watch in surprise as he stalks away from you. You had fully expected him to put up more of a fight, it almost hurts that he left so easily again. 

Then you hear the sounds of orders being shouted behind you. Metal creaking and stomping through the underbrush and you realize he hadn’t left but forced you between a rock and a hard place. You could follow him or let yourself get captured by the Brotherhood. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You risk a glance over your shoulder and spot a rapidly approaching party of squires. You run in the direction Cooper went and find him leaning casually against a tree, a satisfied look on his face when he spots you. “Don’t say a word,” you warn, shoving past him. 

He glances at her from across the fire and finds himself feeling almost at ease for the first time in a month. It’s been a while since he’s looked up to actually find her staring back at him. She might look like she wants to kill him, but she’s here. 

“You have to admit, we make a pretty good team, darling.”

She gives him an unimpressed look, “Yeah, Cooper, we’re so great at murdering people.” She looks over to the dead bodies of the raiders they’d stolen this camp from and shakes her head. “I forgot how much death you surround yourself with.”

“I surround myself with? Might I remind you, you fired the first shot, sweetheart.” Granted, he had shoved her out of her hiding spot and given her no choice about it. 

Her head shoots up and she glares at him, “You made me!” She opens her mouth and he grins. He enjoys provoking her like this. Even if the last time he had she’d shot him because of it, but it’s fun to rile her up. She always gets so pissed off, it entertains him to no end. 

To his disappointment, she closes her mouth and shakes her head, choosing not to engage with him. He sighs and rips off a piece of jerky. “When did you turn into such a wet fucking blanket?”

Her eyes flare with anger, despite that, he can hear how hurt she really is. “Maybe when you sold me!”

He tilts his head and runs his tongue over his teeth, “You ever gonna let that go? I told you it was a mistake. How was I supposed to know they were gonna breed you like a prize pig?”

She scoffs, the noise high pitched and shocked. She shakes her head and stares at him with wide eyes, “You are unbelievable.” He shrugs and takes a swig from the flask he’d stolen off one of the raiders. He’s not sure how they make their alcohol, or if they trade for it, but it’s fucking disgusting. He frowns at the flask and drains the rest of it before tossing it into the woods behind him. 

She sighs and runs a hand over her face, her voice tired as she asks, “What’s the plan here, Cooper?” 

He picks at his teeth and shakes his head, “With what?”

She leans against the log behind her and gestures at herself. “With me. What, are you going to wait for me to pass out so you can tie me up and send me back to the compound? I’ve seen the price on my head. I know how valuable I am to everyone in the Wastelands.”

He doesn’t know why what she’s saying bothers him so much but it does. “You really think I’d send you back there?”

Her face is devoid of anything as she responds, “Why wouldn’t you?”

It’s the bluntness with which she asks that, that bugs him. Like there’s no other possibility but him betraying her. Taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable and weak and then handing her over to the people who want her dead. He wouldn’t do that to her. 

He didn’t go through all this fucking trouble to find her just to lose her again. He wants to tell her as much but she’s on her feet and grabbing her bag before he can. “Look, I appreciate the help today, but I’m not interested in starting this partnership back up again. I think it’s better if we just part ways.”

He whips his gun out before he can think about what he’s doing. She freezes, still bent over and eyes his gun warily. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, darling.” He can’t let her leave again. And maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it, but he doesn’t know how else to stop her. 

“You gonna shoot me, Cooper?” She whispers, her own hand twitching for the revolver at her side. He stands up and grabs her wrists, ignoring the way she struggles against him. He binds her hands with his rope and he sits back down, 

“I’m not gonna turn you in and I’m not gonna shoot you. But you’re not getting out of here that easy, sweetheart.”

Her eyes narrow in on his, her fists clenched tightly in anger. “I killed two men with my hands bound today. What’s stopping me from killing you?”

He shrugs, “Nothing. There’s nothing stopping you, just like there’s nothing stopping me. But I’m not killing you, am I? See,” he leans forward, “I’ve fought too hard and spent too much time looking after you to just let you go now. We’re in this together, whether you want it or not.”

Her lips split in a sneer and she throws herself down on the log. “You’re all the fucking same. You treat me like a goddamn dog that needs to be beat into submission. I’m not some misbehaving pet, Cooper!” Her eyes well up and her voice breaks, “You don’t get to just leash me and expect me to be okay with it.”

“I’m under no illusions that you’re happy here, sweetheart.” He runs a hand down his face and she shakes her head in disbelief. 

“Then just let me go,” she’s bordering on begging now and his chest squeezes the longer she stares at him with those pleading eyes of hers. It’s not something he’s familiar with, this feeling, this longing for her to just shut the fuck up and stop making this so damn difficult for him. 

“I can’t,” he mutters, wanting her to just drop it. 

“Why not?” She snaps, dropping any pretenses of trying to get him to sympathize with her.

He surges forward and grabs her by the jaw. Her eyes widen in shock and he smashes their lips together, teeth clashing painfully. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about this kiss. Her teeth are ripping into his scarred lips until the taste of copper is spreading on his tongue. He groans, digging his fingers into her cheeks until her lips part. 

His tongue probes against hers, the taste of his blood spreading into her mouth as well. She whimpers, the noise stirring something in him he’d forgotten about. There’s an old desire bubbling in him that’s making him blind to the rest of the world. He wants her, more than he ever wants to admit. 

He’s wanted her for a long time before this and they both know it. How hard he’s fought against it, against moments like these. He didn’t think he was still capable of this feeling, this desire for her. But it’s consuming. She’s ruining him, running him in circles until he thinks he’s going insane. 

But it’s not the same gentle passion it once was. It’s as twisted as he’s become. The desire to possess, consume, covet until she’s his and only his to do with what he wants. His teeth dig into her, letting her blood overcome the taste of his own. He groans, his free hand grabbing her waist and yanking her closer. 

She tastes so much sweeter than he does, he wants to rip a chunk of her off and eat her whole. He’s so distracted he doesn't even notice her pulling out her gun until he’s shooting back from her. He lands roughly on the forest floor and groans, hands clutched over the bleeding hole in his gut. Pain radiates through his abdomen and he rolls onto his side.

He looks up at her in shock. She’s spitting their blood onto the ground, her bound hands wiping at her lips. “Asshole,” she mutters. She tucks her gun back in her holster and looks over at him. 

His eyes are wide in disbelief as he struggles to sit back up. The movement causes another wave of pain and he hisses through gritted teeth, “You shot me!”

She rolls her eyes and gives him a blank look, “You’ll live.” He limps back to his own seat and lifts his shirt, watching as the hole closes over slowly and the blood stops leaking. She watches as he heals and sighs, “Unfortunately.” He tugs it back down and sighs at the state of his shirt. 

“My shirt won’t.” He digs a finger into the hole and tugs on it, watching as it rips wider. Two hundred years he’s kept these clothes, she ruins them in a month. Un-fucking-believable. 

“Sew it,” she gripes, still wiping at her mouth. “I can’t believe you just fucking kissed me,” she frowns and spits again, bits of crimson lingering on her lips. 

He sighs and leans back against the tree. “Felt right in the moment.” It did, he wants to do it again. They’re even now, they’ve both shot each other twice. No reason for her to shoot again. 

He wants to feel the way she shivers against him and moans into his mouth. She can be pissed all she wants but she kissed back, she can’t deny that. He’s sure if she wasn’t tied up she’d be a bit more receptive to him. Or maybe she just needs time to cool off after the whole compound incident, a month seems like a reasonable amount of time. Then again, women are so damn unreasonable. 

She tugs a knife out of her boot and positions it between her knees. She places it between her wrists and saws at the rope until it falls free. She slides the knife back in her boot and tosses the ruined rope at him. 

He catches it with a sigh and glances up at her. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

Her eyes are alight with a challenge, “I wanted to see if you would let me go yourself.” Well, clearly, he had failed her little test. “I wanted to see if there was even a possibility I could ever trust you again.”

He gives her an unimpressed look, slightly pissed off about his shirt. He never should have taught her how to shoot. If he’d known it would come back to bite him in the ass he wouldn’t have. “And?”

She gives him a disbelieving look and shakes her head. “And instead of letting me go, you kissed me.“ She throws her hands up in astonishment and glares at him. “Why the hell would you think that was a good idea?”

He smirks and revels in the way she shivers at the sight. “Well, darling, I’ve always been better with actions not words.”

“Yeah,” her voice is a challenge, eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly in frustration. He loves the sight of her all riled up. He loves it even more knowing he’s the one getting her like this. “What were you trying to tell me with that little display?”

He doesn’t answer her question, not wanting to just yet. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away from him. He laughs, leaning back and giving her a smug look. “You can be pissed off at me as much as you want, sweetheart,” the nickname rolls off his tongue like a taunt and she sneers at him. “But you want me just the same as you used to.”

“Do you like hurting me? Is that why you keep me around? You’ve been alone for two hundred years, Cooper. And for the majority of them you’ve harbored this hatred for me because you thought I had abandoned you just like everyone else.” 

Her words strike a place deep inside him that has him on edge. She knows what she’s doing. He’s forgotten, in his time with her, that in the same way he can get under her skin, she can do it too. She knows him just as well, she’s just always been the better half of their duo. She never feels the need to stoop to the level he does. But she’s doing it now and it feels like a kick in the teeth. 

“And I’m the only one that’s actually stuck by you.” She laughs, but there’s an underlying pain to it. She looks away from him and wipes at her cheeks and his fists clench within his gloves. “Is this your revenge? You think by torturing me you get back at everyone whose ever fucked you over. I’m sick of it, Cooper. I’m not gonna let you use me anymore.”

“I feel for you,” he forces the words out. He doesn’t want to tell her this. He shouldn’t have to tell her this. She should just stick with him, it’s what they’d always done, it’s how it always should be. Them, together. But she’s fighting against that, against him, so much that he doesn’t have a choice. 

She’s backed him into a corner he doesn’t know how to get out of. “In a way I haven’t in a very long time. I can’t let you go. Don’t you get that, sweetheart? We’re in this together.”

She shakes her head and he sighs. “No,” she looks at him and just shakes her head again. “No, you don’t love me, Cooper, or you don’t want me at least. I’m not the same girl I was, that’s what you’re after. That idea in your head, of us together, that’s who I was. You were right, the Wastelands changes you. I can’t be her for you and I don’t want to be.”

He chuckles and she shrinks away from the sound in suspicion. “Newsflash, darling, I’m not the same man. I loved you a long time ago, sweetheart, but I’m not capable of that anymore. Not for the girl you were, anyway.”

She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she accepted the answer, but he could see beyond that, could see that she thought he was rejecting her. It hurt, she could hate him as much as she wanted, but that still hurt her. “Good,” she muttered, “she’s gone.”

“Well, good.” She shrank further into herself and he grinned.  “You. You as you are now. That’s what I want. I don’t give a shit about who we were, the only person I’ve wanted since I’ve been out here has been you. You’re the only person I’ve met who can actually keep up with me. I don’t give a shit if anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland lives or dies, but I give a shit about you. You’re also the only one who can knock me on my ass.”

Her eyes darted to the hole in his shirt and a small grin came over her lips. “Haven’t been shot a lot, have you, cowboy?”

“No,” he chuckles again and grins at her, “I haven’t. Though, I am still pretty pissed about the hole in my hat.”

Her tone loses a bit of her playfulness and she glares at him, “You more than earned that.”

He acquiesces and holds up his hands in surrender, “Maybe.” She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes. “But I think we’re even now.”

“Barely,” she mutters, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She glances up at him and sighs, a surrender in her eyes. “But, it’s close enough now.”

He stands up and she eyes him warily as he throws himself down on the log next to her. He holds out a hand, “What do you say, darling, partners?”

She sighs and stares at his hand for a long time. He doesn’t mind, he leaves it there, hovering between them. He knows she’ll take it. “Deny it as much as you want but this is how it’s meant to be. You can keep fighting it or save us both some time.”

She reaches forward and tentatively wraps a hand around his, she uses it to yank him forward, their faces separated by an inch. “Shoot me again,” she whispers, “and I won’t miss the next time I knock you on your ass.”

“Oh shit,” you jump at the kickback on the rifle and nearly drop it to the ground. Cooper laughs and reaches around you, taking it from you. 

“Maybe I should have started you off with something with a little less kick to it.” He props the rifle against the tree and glances over to the cans you’d been shooting at. Well, you’d gotten one out of five at least. 

In all fairness this was the first time you’d ever handled a gun, you’re sure you’re doing fine for a beginner. He sucks on his teeth and looks at your targets. The serious look on his face cracks and he’s clearly trying to fight off laughing. 

You shove at his shoulder, smiling, “Shut up. I’ve never used one of these things before.”

He picks the rifle back up and starts laughing now, “You mean a gun?” 

You throw your arms in the air in defeat and slump into the patio chairs he’s dragged to the back of the cabin. “This is pointless, anyway.” He cocks the rifle and lifts it up to aim properly. In quick succession he knocks the remaining four cans off the fence. You roll your eyes at him, “Show off.”

He smiles and takes a seat next to you. You remain silent for a while, gazing across the yard and to the towering mountains across from his cabin. You appreciate him inviting you here. When you’d told him how overwhelmed you’d been feeling with all the new publicity you hadn’t expected him to drag you all the way out to his mountain home. 

You wouldn’t have accepted if you’d known it was just going to be you and him. You’d thought he was bringing his wife and kid, too. Spending a long weekend playing house with Cooper wasn’t going to do anything in getting rid of your crush. It was just getting worse the longer you were around him.

Waking up everyday and having him be the first person to greet you was going to send you into an early grave. You swear your heart’s never beat this fast around anyone else. He seems to be the only man who's ever had you feeling this head over heels. 

“I think it’s important you learn.”

You glance over at him, surprised at how serious he sounds. He’s still staring out at the mountains, but his gaze is distant. His mind is some place else. “Why?” You ask, voice quiet, afraid to spoil the moment.

He finally blinks, gaze darting down to his hands and the rifle still in them. “It’s easy for people to dismiss the war nowadays. They weren’t there, they didn’t watch as hundreds of good men and women died for them.” You frown, sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’d been fighting on the frontlines. He’s so good at being a socialite, you feel guilty that even you sometimes forget he was a soldier before he was Cooper Howard. 

His voice is heavy, the tension thick around the both of you. “They seem to think the war is over. I know it’s not, it’s just going to get worse. People can bury their heads in the sand as long as they want, but when the fighting is at their front door, what are they going to do?”

You reach out, hand covering his own. He finally looks up at you and you smile. “I appreciate it, Cooper.”

His eyes quickly look at your hand before looking back at you. “For what?”

You shrug, moving closer to him and lacing your fingers with his. You shouldn’t indulge yourself like this, but you can’t help it. He seems so sad and you only want to make him feel better. You just want to take care of him, the way he takes care of you. 

“For always looking out for me. You’re always there, I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

The sad cast over his face finally breaks and he smiles at you. His hand squeezes yours once, then again and he looks back out at the mountains without saying anything else. You don’t think he needs to, that either of you needs to. Sometimes you understand each other better without words. 

You’ll always be there for one another.

You eye him warily and he holds the jerky out further. “Aren’t you a little curious?” He taunts, waving the jerky around in front of your face. You know he thinks you won’t take it. That he’s just screwing with you. He’s been doing this ever since you agreed to tag along with him. Teasing you at every given opportunity. 

You snatch it from his hands and rip a piece of it off. It kind of tastes like beef, if not a little sweeter. There’s also that metallic radiated tang to it. You chew it slowly, savoring the slightly caught off guard look on his face. You swallow it down, forcing your face to stay straight and not give away how disgusted you feel right now. 

He chuckles, leaning back and looking at you with something that seems like appreciation. “I hope you know that was ass jerky.”

You gag now, glaring at him and tossing the rest of the jerky at his smug face. “You’re such a dick.” You take a swig from your canteen and swirl the water around your mouth. It gets rid of the taste well enough but you’re never going to get over the fact that you swallowed a part of someone’s ass. 

He suddenly gets serious, swatting at your arm and motioning to the front of the store. You crouch beside him, watching as a raider walks out of the front doors. You don’t get why they chose an old movie store for their hideout, but Cooper had it on good authority that they had a decent cache of supplies inside. 

The last time you’d followed him into one of these things, you’d nearly died, and then he’d sold you. You’re still not fully trusting of him. The only reason you’re with him now is because you need extra security from bounty hunters after getting booted out of Filly. 

If he wasn’t such a good shot, you would have never given him a second glance. Despite how much he insists the compound was an honest mistake, you find the trust slow to come. You’ll let him take the lead on this one, you’re not confident in him having your back if things take a turn. 

He moves forward and you hang back, keeping watch while he slits the guard’s throat. He lowers the body quietly to the ground and you creep behind him, following him through the doors of the store. 

This group is smaller than the last one you dealt with. Only five of them with no extra guards outside. Cooper ducks behind a dust covered shelf before they can spot either of you. You go to the other side of the store, moving slowly along the edge until you have a good shot. 

You take out one man and Cooper manages to hit two more before they start firing off their own guns. You dart back behind the shelf, willing to let Cooper handle the last two. But one of them dives behind the shelf and grabs at you. 

Another shot goes off and his friend’s body hits the ground while he rounds the corner with you. He’s got an arm wrapped around your throat and the barrel of his gun pushing so hard into your skull you can feel an indent forming. 

It wouldn’t be hard to shoot this guy, you still have your gun in your hand. Cooper seems to realize that, too, from the questioning look he gives you. You drop your gun to the floor, you want to see what he’ll do. 

Maybe you’re stupid, gambling with your life like this. But you don’t feel any fear, not from the guy holding you hostage at least. You just keep your eyes locked on Cooper’s. They’re so familiar to you, yet so distant. Like a stranger you’ve known all your life. 

He slowly rises from the floor, hands raised in the air in surrender. “Alright, let’s just see if we can’t talk this out like gentlemen.”

The guy holding you jerks you roughly, gun banging painfully against your temple. You wince but remain quiet. “Stay back or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”

Cooper’s eyes dart from your face to the guy. He huffs, frowning and pursing his lips like he’s trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this. He could leave, he’s got enough time to make it through the door before he fires at him. 

Or he could help you. 

It’s the only reason you let yourself get caught. If he wants your trust he’s going to have to prove it. Cooper looks at you and a grin splits across his face. It’s like he’s read your mind, from the knowing look on his face you think he might’ve. 

Then again, you never really needed words to talk to each other. 

With a speed that never fails to catch you off guard his hand darts under his jacket and he draws his gun. He’s shooting the man before you even get a chance to brace yourself. Your body gets dragged back slightly by the dead weight but Cooper moves forward and wraps a hand around your shirt, tugging you into him. 

Your hands shoot out, bracing yourself against his chest. He peers at you from under his hat and grins, “You didn’t really think I was gonna let you go that easy did you, darling?” Your eyes dart down to his lips, you feel like you can still taste him. 

The timing of his kiss might not have been appropriate, but he certainly hadn’t made it forgettable. Nothing about him was forgettable. As much as you wished he could be. You hated yourself for still letting yourself fall into his trap. 

Hollywood might have once labeled you as the most seductive actress of your generation, but Cooper had you beat. He kept you coming back even when you knew you shouldn’t. He had you wrapped around him and all you wanted to do was squeeze until he let you go. 

You push off of him, ignoring how much you want to pull him closer. You move towards their pile of supplies, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

There are a few different posters set up in the old movie store that intrigue him. But the one that’s caught his attention the most is set up directly behind her. Her back is to it, so she hasn’t gotten a chance to see it yet, but it’s all he can focus on. 

The Outlaw and The Sheriff

Their first movie together. 

He looks at her and huffs out a laugh, she glances up at him for a moment before she begins rifling through her bag again. She looks like she walked right off the fucking poster, hat and all. She’s the spitting image of herself, but she seems so different. 

Maybe it’s the eyes. The light there has changed, dimmed slightly from how it used to be. She used to seem so naive to the world, like a little lamb that just needed some guidance. Now, he wonders just how much of the world she’d seen before he found her. If maybe she had never been as innocent to it’s cruelties as he’d once assumed. 

She stepped into this new role of hers just as quickly as he had. You didn’t just change that quickly without knowing already just how awful people could be. 

“Sweetheart,” she looks up and he points behind her. She turns around and looks up to the poster.

She scoffs, moving to stand beside him, “I always hated how I looked in that.”

He glances over at her and shakes his head, “Probably shouldn’t show you a mirror anytime soon, then.” Her hands reach up to fiddle with the brim of her hat and she smiles, a real smile for once. 

“No, I suppose not.” Her hands trace over her lips, he glances back at the poster. At that old signature of hers. She always had to have those red lips. “It’s so different,” she whispers and he knows she didn’t mean for him to hear. Her eyes glisten and he frowns. 

He shouldn’t have shown her. It’s not like he enjoyed seeing those fucking Vault-Boy posters, he sure as hell hated seeing clips of himself. Why would she enjoy seeing who she used to be? Who they used to be?

Things used to be so simple. He loved her, she loved him. Now he’d fucked up so much he wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the way she used to. He didn’t want who she was before, he couldn’t handle that. This new her, well, he didn’t give her near enough credit. 

But he wouldn’t hate seeing someone look at him like that again. Endless adoration and unflinching loyalty. He knew he would follow her anywhere, he’d realized that a while ago. He didn’t have anything in the Wastelands, nothing but hate and spite to keep him going all this time.

Now, he had her. He just needed her to realize that she had him just the same. She had him wrapped around her and he hated it and loved it at the same time. Hated her and loved her for it all the same. 

He tugs his glove off before he reaches for her. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing over her lips before she turns towards him. His eyes meet hers and he smiles slightly at the familiarity and mystery to them. So much of her he recognizes and then there are these new parts he’s yet to discover. 

He wants to discover all of her. Learn everything he can about her all over again, feed his desire to consume her entirely. 

She pulls him in this time, her lips chapped and cracked. Her arms wind around his neck, yanking him closer and he tugs at her. She tastes as sweet as he remembers and it only makes him crave more. More of her, more of anything she’ll let him have. 

She pulls back from him, pressing her hand against his chest, slowly backing him against the wall. He lets her ease him to the floor and she throws a leg over his lap. She settles herself above him, both her hands tightly grasping his neck, crushing their bodies together, eyes gazing intently into his own. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for in him but she seems to find it when she leans in once more. 

She isn’t giving him a chance at control, she’s got a leash on him, pulling back anytime he tries to lead. He relents, following her as she slowly explores him. 

He’s not sure how long this peace between them will last before one of them inevitably fucks up. But they’re stuck together now. It doesn’t matter what happens, he’s not letting her get away from him again. 

She’s his, always has been, always will be. It’s been that way since before the fallout. He’s led her, guided her.

He had loved her as a different man. History always seems to repeat itself with them. As twisted as the world is, as twisted as they’ve become, they always seem to drift back together. No matter how much the both of them fight against it. 

He’s giving in now, giving into her. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

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