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oreomonsterhunter · 4 years ago

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Life Sucks

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Word Count: 10K (I know.....this was a surprise for me, too)

Genre: fluff, romantic comedy

Warnings: language (our characters have a tendency to curse, apparently)

Summary: Sunshine reader is in love with love, but hasn’t had much luck with it herself. When she meets Minho, a self-proclaimed cynic and disbeliever of “true love”, she’s determined to change his life. If she can’t find the love of her life, she’s going to try to find his.

This fic was inspired by a tag game once upon a time. It was supposed to be a short drabble, but apparently I can’t hold back with Minho. Tag game featured this specific Lee Know and just kinda spiraled from there lol

Nearing the end of January, winter sometimes seemed endless. Yet when you stepped out into the morning chill, you were pleasantly surprised to find the snow banks melting a bit. Your boots splashed through small puddles as you strode down the street, and you smiled softly at the lavender sky. It was still early enough—for a Saturday—that the sidewalks weren’t too packed yet, so you indulged in a more leisurely walk than usual, dancing along to the music from your headphones. You caught a few odd looks, but you simply smiled and waved at everyone you passed. They could judge your happiness all they wanted, nothing could possibly spoil your day when it was off to such a good start—

“Shit,” you gasped, jumping back onto the curb as a car barrelled through a red light. Had you been a second slower, you would’ve been a vehicular manslaughter case. “Asshole,” you hollered after them, flipping two middle fingers in the air.

You exhaled a sharp breath through your nose, attempting to banish the exasperation and get back into your music again. More careful this time, you double checked both ways down the street before entering the crosswalk.

Unfortunately, your streak of bad luck continued. Just as you hopped off the street, a truck passed by behind you, tires bumping through a pothole. And with the recent snowmelt, this resulted in a spray of cold water hitting the backs of your legs.

You froze, mind stuttering as you tried to comprehend how the morning had taken such a turn, all within your first five minutes outside. Pursing your lips, you twisted around to inspect the damage. The dirty water might stain your jeans, but the most pressing matter was the cold and wet denim now plastered to your legs from your calves to the backs of your knees. You bit your lip, contemplating just turning back and spending the whole day in your apartment. Pajamas, a blanket, hot coffee and tea readily available. Maybe a movie, just because you could.

Then you shook your head, determined to make the best of the day. You wanted a cappuccino, dammit. And chocolate babka from the cafe. No homicidal drivers or puddles could stop you. It was a Saturday, just past sunrise, and you had a whole day ahead of you. No need to wallow a few minutes in. And besides, who knew what would happen.

You set off for the cafe, determination heavy in each step. You forced a smile back onto your lips, though it was thinner than before. You switched to a different playlist so that your boots could thump the concrete in time. And you breathed, spooling calmness back into yourself.

It was a Saturday. You might meet the love of your life today. And nothing could stop you from finding out.

The bell over the front door jingled merrily, and you softened a little further, relaxing into the familiar surroundings. You hardly even noticed the damp denim chafing your legs as you skipped up to the counter.

Ruth, currently manning the register, chuckled as she rang up another customer. “Well would you look at that, the sun came shining right in our front door,” she said.

“Good morning,” you giggled. You waved to Jonathan, Ruth’s husband, in the back. The couple had been running the little cafe and bakery for years, and you were a faithful customer, coming by at least once a week since you first moved to the neighborhood.

“Morning, Sunshine,” he called, hands busy kneading dough for what would doubtless become something delicious. You hummed thoughtfully, considering the baked goods in the glass case before you.

“Your usual?”

You tapped a finger on your chin, “You know, the poppy seed muffins look awfully tempting. I might just have to switch it up today.”

Ruth nodded, tapping on the register. You handed over the requisite bills and she shooed you off, sliding the muffin over the counter. “Go on now, a table opened up by the window, perfect spot. I’ll bring the coffee in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you said, but Ruth was already fussing over the espresso machine. Shaking your head, you weave through the maze of tables and chairs, dodging patrons on your way to the window seat.

You had your eyes on the prize, and you were only a few feet from the chair when you pulled up short. A stranger, their back to you, plopped down in your chair. You blinked, suddenly and painfully aware of your wet pants, the muffin growing cool in your hand, the fact that you could give up now and walk home but perhaps you’d just get hit by a car and never get a chance to enjoy your breakfast. You sighed deeply, breathing out through your nose as you closed your eyes, seeking inner peace or something.

“Can I help you?”

The voice knocked you out of your momentary meditation, and you looked at the table thief in surprise. He loosened the fluffy scarf around his neck before sliding his arms out of his winter coat. A beret, of all things, tilted dangerously to the side before he adjusted it on his head. He looked like some kind of absent-minded professor, but for the youthful features that peered up at you. A sharp nose, tinted red from the cold, and a soft mouth. Dark and depthless eyes, paired with high cheekbones and a cutting jawline.

You realized you were staring when he waved at you, eyes widened. “Hello?”

“Um, sorry, I just,” you stammered, lost for words.

“Do you want to sit or something?”

You stopped again, mouth dropping open. You checked the time—you had fifteen minutes or so, enough time for another table to open up. “Uh, sure, if that’s ok with you. I was hoping for a table, I’m meeting someone,” you said, beginning to ramble.

“No problem, I don’t need all this space, and I’ll head out soon,” he cut you off, raising one brow at you when you continued to stand there, rooted to the spot.

Ruth’s arrival with your cappuccino was what ultimately forced your hand. You sat down, gratefully accepting the drink, your smile less shaky with a taste of the familiar.

“I didn’t think they did table service,” the stranger mused.

“They don’t, I just know the owners,” you shook your head, cutting yourself off when you saw his disinterest. “Sorry, I should introduce myself,” you switched tacks, giving your name with a bright grin. So what if it was forced?

The stranger looked at you, and his lips twitched in a shadow of a smirk. “Minho,” he responded.

Silence fell, heavy and awkward, and you found yourself leaning forward desperately. “So how’s your day so far?”

Minho snorted, reaching for his own drink—an iced americano, you guessed, despite it being the middle of winter. “Probably better than yours.”

“What?” your brows furrowed in confusion.

He gestured to your legs with one hand. “Unfortunate accident this morning?”

Your lips tightened, holding back a frown, “Puddles, you know.”

Minho sighed, sounding sympathetic now, rather than snarky. “Yeah, life sucks, doesn’t it?” And there was the sarcasm again.

“One or two bad things doesn’t mean life sucks,” you countered, sipping your coffee. “I’m excited about the rest of the day, it’s not even eight in the morning! And it’s the weekend, and it’s sunny and warm, and I have hot coffee and a delicious muffin, and the world is out there and ready to be enjoyed,” you finished, lips curling up as you looked out the window at the sunrise, the horizon flaming golden.

“Sounds like you’ve never had a job,” a harsh voice cut into your admiration. Your smile faltered as you looked back at Minho. You gaped at him, brain processing the way this soft-looking boy sounded like the king of cynics. The last thing you expected from someone wearing a fuzzy beret and looking like a sly teddy bear was this blunt conversation. “No one’s that excited when they have to work fifty plus hour weeks to pay the bills. Trust fund baby?” he inquired, sipping calmly.

Yep, there was no fighting the frown now. “No, and I don’t appreciate the judgement. Why can’t I just be happy?”

Minho smirked, “Never said you can’t. I just wanted to see if you had a personality beyond being Positive Polly.”

Your eyes flamed, but your phone buzzed, distracting you before you could smite the snarky boy. You fumbled at your coat pocket, whipping out the device to check for a new message. You slumped—just a spam email.

“Waiting for something important?” Minho asked, tilting his head.

You huffed, shoving the device back in your pocket. “As a matter of fact, yes,” you sassed, tossing your hair over one shoulder. “I’m waiting for a date.”

He hummed at you, expression unreadable. “You’re too excited.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, eyeing the clock on the far wall of the cafe.

“You’re significantly early, watching the clock like a hawk, and they haven’t even texted you an update.” He took a long sip. “What time is your date anyway? Eight in the morning? They’re not coming.”

Your smile faltered again. Damn him, why was a total stranger dimming your joy? You shoved your chair back, even though no tables had opened up yet. You’d wait by the counter and chat with Ruth. Anything was better than this asshole.

Minho glanced over his shoulder, checking the clock himself. “Five past, and still nothing,” he commented.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

A spark appeared in his eyes, and he grinned. “Good to see you have some backbone,” he commented.

You could’ve sworn steam was coming out of your ears, but your phone vibrated again. You checked the lock screen, seeing a new text pop up from Jay: hey I can’t make it. You swiped on the message, but nothing followed it. Seriously? That was it? No explanation, and not even a half-assed apology?

“Told you so.”

You spun to face Minho, glare renewed. “And what makes you so sure of yourself and my date?” you demanded.

He snorted, “Life sucks; so does dating. The only thing you’re guaranteed is disappointment.”

Your anger faded slightly as you watched the boy sip his iced coffee, his silhouette stark against the snow outside. When you took a breath to get past your own mingled frustration—both at Jay and your new snarky companion—you saw the tense lines of his face. You wondered what disappointment had left Minho so defensive.

“Alright, enlighten me,” you said, throwing yourself back in the chair. This time, you settled in, sliding out of your coat and leaning forward with your coffee. “Who broke your heart?”

A look of disgust slid over those pretty features. “No one broke anything,” he scoffed, turning to the window and giving you another dose of his sharp profile. You rested your chin on your hand thoughtfully, just watching him and waiting. “Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered. “You’re not my therapist.”

“But I am a perfectly kind stranger. And strangers are the easiest people to talk to,” you said sunnily.

“And don’t sound so happy.”

“No can do, people call me Sunshine for a reason.”

Minho gave a long-suffering sigh. “I’m not calling you that.”

Now you were the one with a cocky smirk, “Why, does it hurt your delicate masculinity?”

A beat of silence, and then, “One of my best friends is called Sunshine.” Minho looked at you sharply. “I’m not calling you that,” he said again.

You waved him off, oddly touched in spite of his gruff tone. This human version of grumpy cat had a best friend named Sunshine? Incredible, and surprisingly soft of him. “Ok fine, no arguments from me. Tell me about her. Or him, whoever it is,” you stumbled over your words.

Minho didn’t seem to notice your blundering. He stared somewhere beyond your shoulder, “No one broke my heart.” Then his eyes focused on you again as he asserted, “I’ve just experienced enough to know better than to hope blindly. The world isn’t looking out for you.”

Humming, you folded your arms as you considered his statements. “Well, I believe in true love,” you started.

“Why am I not surprised?” Minho groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I also believe in the power of positive thinking,” you continued as if he hadn’t spoken. Ignoring his dramatic moaning, you steamrolled ahead. “Yeah, my morning turned out pretty shitty, but if I just go crawl back in bed, I’ll have wasted a whole day over something as silly as wet jeans.”

“Wet jeans and being stood up.”

“And being stood up,” you allowed, gritting your teeth to maintain a smile. “But if I let that stop me from living my life, then I’ve let the negative win. If I go check out a new dating app or two and keep trying, one day I’ll have something good.”

Minho put his coffee down, resting one hand on the table as he met your eyes, gaze hard. “Listen, nothing good comes out of a dating app. You’re wasting your time. And didn’t you say you hate doing that?”

You wanted to argue, but your friends had told you much of the same. Minho was just less polite in his delivery. But you hadn’t had any luck with real life men, either. Case in point: your irritating argument with the perfectly attractive guy in front of you. So that left apps, even if the pickings were regrettably slim. And only growing slimmer, if the ghost date was any indication. You didn’t have the guts to tell Minho that this wasn’t the first time you’d been stood up.

Then you had an idea. Your grin widened, and Minho’s irritated expression faded into apprehension. “Well if I’m doomed to never find love,” you started, batting your eyelashes teasingly. “Why don’t I look for the love of your life instead?”

Minho blanched, recoiling with enough force that his chair rocked back on two legs. “Yeah, no. I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“I think it’s a terrific idea,” you beamed at him. “I’ve been a successful matchmaker for a bunch of my friends, too. I’ve just had trouble finding my own love interest.”

“What is this, a rom com?” he hissed.

You clapped your hands, overcome with excitement for the first time since the puddle. “Oh, a romance, I wish,” you nearly swooned at the thought. “I promise I’ll do my best. You’d get along great with one of my friends, they’re just as irritable as you.”

Minho exhaled sharply, massaging his forehead with one hand. He closed his eyes, muttering, “What am I doing here?”

“Wait, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. No matchmaking until I know you better,” you amended, whipping out a notebook and pen from your bag. You had just about everything in there—you never knew what emergency might pop up, like brainstorming a match for a stranger. “What are some of your hobbies? Favorite color? Ooh, what about first date activities you love? Oh my goodness, wait, are you looking for men or women?”

Part of you expected Minho to shove his chair back and leave. You wouldn’t be too upset, that just meant you’d have the table to yourself, even if you weren’t waiting on a date anymore. But you didn’t totally hate this guy. And another part of you kind of felt bad for him. He’d never experienced love! Not that you’d had a taste of true love, either, but you knew what was out there. And it was a shame that he didn’t see that too. It was like...someone hating your favorite holiday—unacceptable, if only because you wanted everyone to enjoy it as much as you did.

You begrudgingly admitted that another teeny tiny part of you thought he was too attractive to be so cynical of love. Some lucky girl out there was waiting for Minho, and you were gonna help her out, even if it meant dragging the man kicking and screaming towards her.

But Minho didn’t do what you expected. He didn’t storm off, coffee in hand, scarf flapping in the wind dramatically. He sighed and stood up, but made no move for his coat. “If we’re doing this, I need more coffee,” he said, then turned and made a beeline for the counter without any further explanation.

You blinked after him, more than a bit surprised. He was...going along with this? You tapped the pen against your chin thoughtfully, watching his shoulders flex beneath his turtleneck as he talked to Ruth. His head turned slightly, and you caught a glimpse of his smile—a real one—taking your breath away.

Now, if only you could get him to smile like that for any potential dates. You clicked your pen with renewed vigor, laughing when Minho approached with a new coffee, exasperation written into every line of his face.

* * * * *

It was a lovely Thursday night, and you were curled up on the couch in your comfiest pajamas. Your only companions were a blanket, a mug of tea, and your phone, which you checked every fifteen seconds. The first time all week that Minho hadn’t answered your messages, and it was the night of his first date. You were buzzing with anticipation, practically vibrating as you waited for news, not caring who it came from first.

Finally, you gave up waiting, throwing the blanket as you went to reheat your tea, since you’d let it grow cold while refreshing your messages. The second you reached the kitchen, however, you heard a buzz. You dashed to the couch, scrambling for your phone to find a text from Mari:

He had to dip early, lame date

You nearly screeched. He left? Your fingers pounded the screen:

What!?!?!! Did he say whyyy?

Mari’s response was short and to the point:

An “emergency”

You could read between the lines. Mari was irritated, to say the least, since the blind date had been your brilliant idea. But what on earth had happened with Minho? Your stomach dropped, considering that he might have an actual emergency. You quickly tapped out a message to him to check in, gnawing your lip in worry.

Hey, Mari said you had an emergency, is everything ok?

You waited what felt like ten thousand years before finally seeing the little bubbles appear. His message, however, was not worth the wait:

Didn’t get on with her

You fumed, pressing dial on his contact with enough force, you were amazed your screen didn’t crack. “You left because you didn’t like her?” you screeched as soon as he picked up.

“Yes.”

Gaping like a fish, you fumbled for words to explain how bad that was. “You can’t just—”

“But I did,” Minho cut you off.

“But you can’t,” you said, exasperated. “Jeez, I thought you knew what you were doing. Obviously not. You need a practice date or something so my friends don’t murder you.”

Now it was Minho’s turn to squawk indignantly. “I do not need practice,” he started.

“Yes, obviously you do. You might look like a player but you’ve obviously never talked to a girl for more than ten minutes,” you scolded him. “Who leaves in the middle of a date? With that bad of an excuse?”

“I hate wasting my time. Didn’t we discuss how we should avoid doing that with our love lives,” he snarked.

You groaned, “There’s a difference between not wasting your time and being rude as heck.”

“So what? She was abrasive, rude, cynical, and had a terrible sense of humor,” Minho said, as casually as if he was discussing the weather. “I can’t believe you’re friends.”

“That’s a pretty great description of you, too,” you sassed back, irritation taking over. “We might not be that close, but you can’t just insult everyone I set you up with.”

“Who said I wanted you to set me up with anyone?”

“I assumed you did, otherwise why are you going along with this?” you tried your best to calm down, lower your voice. But something about Minho just put your back up.

“Uh,” Minho actually seemed lost for words. Your ears perked up, eager to catch his answer. “My mom wants to set me up with her friends’ daughters,” he tossed out at last.

Seemed a bit too easy. “Sure,” you drawled, leaning back on the couch.

“Yes, really,” he sneered, and you giggled, picturing the exact expression on his face.

“Ok, whatever you say,” you allowed, laughing slightly. “But you’re still going on a practice date. Tomorrow night, six o’clock. Meet me at the cafe. If you’re not there, I’m gonna find your mom and help her out.”

You hung up on him before he could argue with you, grinning madly as you concocted your plan.

* * * * *

You half expected to wait for Minho to show up, much like your friend did, but much to your surprise, he was waiting for you under the awning when you arrived. “You’re late,” Minho accused, and you grinned sheepishly. You may or may not have lied about the time. Just in case.

“The queen is never late. Everyone else is simply early,” you quipped. Minho rolled his eyes—absolutely what you expected. You giggled, linking your arm through his and tugging him down the sidewalk with you.

“Woah,” Minho yanked at his arm, trying to free himself. “If you wanted to hold hands, you could have asked.”

“You’re too much of a grinch, you’d just say no.”

“Exactly. It’s called consent, sweetheart.”

He nearly fell at the sudden freedom when you released him, shoving your hands deeper into your pockets to escape the chill. “Alright, follow me then, you unromantic dork.” He muttered under his breath as you skipped away, having fun despite his attitude. Time to show him what a real date looked like.

Five seconds later, and not even two blocks from the cafe, Minho groaned, “Are we there yet?”

“No.”

A pause, then, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” you told him, not for the first time. He’d texted you all night, demanding to know, but your lips were sealed.

Except a certain someone seemed determined to annoy the answers out of you. “Are we there yet?”

You sighed, your skip feeling a little less peppy. “No.”

“Are we—”

“Minho,” you ground out. “If you ask me that one more time, I’m taking you to get your nails done.”

“Ok, sure. I could use a bit of pampering,” he said, the epitome of casual.

You stared at him. “This feels like a trick,” you said slowly.

A grin flashed, “That’s because it is. It’s after six, they’re all closed by now.” But then he frowned slightly. “Now you have me wanting a manicure though, I’ve never gotten one.”

Your brows were practically in your hairline but you just nodded. “Ok, another time, then,” you agreed. You caught sight of a familiar street sign and quickened your steps. “Almost there,” you were nearly vibrating in excitement. You felt Minho’s eyes on you, your skin prickling with awareness, but you ignored him in favor of racing around the street corner. And there it was—the zoo! All lit up...all lit…...not lit up at all. Your feet stumbled to a halt.

“So the zoo is open at night now?” Minho inquired at your shoulder.

You gaped at the dark expanse before you. “But where are the lights?” Because indeed, not a single light was on in the zoo. You’d just visited, not too long ago, and they had been open for night visits, so guests could walk around and see the trees all lit up, and wave hello to a few animals in the enclosures.

“Lights?”

“The Christmas lights,” you cried out, frantic. “They were up the last time I was here.”

“You mean a month ago? For Christmas? Back when it was still December?” Minho questioned you. You nearly snapped back before you realized. It was January. February next week. Of course the lights were down, what kind of idiot were you?

You groaned in defeat, slumping against the wall and sliding down to a crouch. You threw your arms over your head. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, then. I’m sorry I made you walk all this way,” you mumbled into your knees, wishing you could disappear into the sidewalk. Gosh, and you’d really dragged him along, hadn’t you? He obviously hadn’t been that excited, and all of your mysterious “it’s a surprise” nonsense only made this a bigger disappointment.

“It’s a Friday night, things are still open, you know,” Minho pointed out. “So what if you somehow forgot a whole month happened. I forget the year sometimes.”

“What are you, an old man?” you tried to perk up, but the tease fell flat.

“I’m only twenty-two. You must be ancient.” You picked up your head to look at him. A faint smile curled on his lips as he played along.

“Oh my gosh, I’m your noona. If you’re a grandpa, then I’m practically in the grave,” you forced out a chuckle.

Minho’s smile grew, and he extended a hand. “Come on, get up. Night’s still young.”

For a moment, you simply stared at his hand. Then you met his dark gaze, “You aren’t going to take advantage of this? I thought you hated the whole practice date idea.”

He sighed, wiggling his fingers at you. “I don’t hate spending time with you, alright? Now get up or I’m leaving you here.”

Your mouth twitched, a true smile threatening to form, and not just a cover-up. You slid your hand in his gratefully, and Minho pulled you to your feet with more strength than you thought he had. You blinked at him, realizing he hadn’t let your hand go yet. But the second his eyes followed your gaze, he dropped it, sliding his hands into his pants pockets instead.

“So where to?” Minho asked.

You opened your mouth to respond, remembering a pretty little outdoor skating rink, but the skies cracked open, interrupting you with a sudden deluge. You gasped as the first fat raindrops splattered on your forehead, eyes widening before you made a mad dash for the nearest storefront, Minho already a few steps ahead of you.

You’d barely been in the rain for a minute, but the icy water had your teeth chattering already. Had it been any colder, this would’ve been pretty snow. Instead, you got an arctic firehose.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you peered down the street. Beside you, Minho checked a weather app, hissing through his teeth. “Looks like rain all night,” he muttered.

You groaned again, wanting to cry. You’d completely messed up the evening, first with the lights, and now by not checking the weather. You’d planned an outdoor date, why hadn’t you checked?

A hand brushed your shoulder lightly, barely detectable through your coat. “Um, this might not be what you had planned, but my apartment is actually on this street. Wanna just order pizza?”

Your first instinct was a vehement “no”, but you stopped that answer on the tip of your tongue. Minho wasn’t one of the sleazy guys you’d gone out with in the past, the ones who’d thought an apartment invite was more than that. Plus, this wasn’t a real date or anything. It was a practice date, just pals, nothing crazy about that. So why couldn’t you grab pizza at his place? Especially with the monsoon and a long walk back to your own place. And no umbrella.

You found yourself nodding, shivers wracking your body. Minho’s teeth flashed in another fierce grin, “Alright, sweetheart, let’s make a run for it. In three, two, one—”

The two of you raced down the slick sidewalks, dodging lampposts and puddles alike. You skidded to a stop at one of the apartment buildings, nearly slamming into Minho’s back as he yanked the door open, and the two of you tumbled into the warm lobby. Once out of the wet, Minho shook his head like a dog, water droplets spraying everywhere, and you shrieked, hands coming up to protect yourself.

“Sorry,” Minho laughed, not sounding apologetic in the least. “I’m on the sixth floor, so we can take the elevator,” he said, pointing you in the right direction.

The ride up was awkward; the only sound was your jacket zipper rattling from the force of your shivers. Minho unlocked the door to his apartment, waving a hand dramatically. You stepped inside tentatively, toeing off your boots by the door. You watched Minho follow suit, then pad over to a closet along one wall. Your confusion abated when he emerged with towels, passing one to you with raised brows. The two of you were still soaking wet, and you didn’t want to track rainwater all over his apartment.

Minho was already drying his head off one-handed. When he stopped, letting the towel slip down to rest on his shoulders, you giggled at the sight of his hair. He made a face, only adding to the comic effect of his hair standing on end.

“I know you drink coffee, but what about hot tea?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen while you continued to dab at your clothes.

You nodded enthusiastically, eyeing the space from where you stood in the entryway. It was pretty minimal, not a ton of color or anything, but cozy. Black couch, gray curtains, some photos on the wall. Fairly tidy, but definitely nothing out of a magazine. A meow at your feet interrupted your train of thought, and you looked down to coo at the cats that were slowly approaching. “Well aren’t you gorgeous,” you complimented the bravest of the three, who nosed at your hand gingerly.

“Soonie, Doongi, and Dori,” Minho said, pointing at each cat in turn. He leaned on the counter while waiting for the water to boil.

“They’re adorable,” you beamed at him. “And much more friendly.”

“Hey,” he narrowed his eyes. “I’m friendly.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed at him. Your mirth was interrupted by a fierce shiver, reminding you that you might not be dripping wet, but your clothes were still icy cold.

Minho eyed you as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “I have sweats you can borrow.”

You started to protest, but the next shudder of cold made you change your mind. Besides, you didn’t want to get his furniture soaking wet. So you nodded and waited while Minho disappeared into the bedroom. You shuffled awkwardly to the kitchen, toes curling in your socks.

Minho reappeared. “Here,” he said, voice gruff. He pressed a pair of sweatpants into your hands, along with a fuzzy looking sweatshirt. Your turtleneck wasn’t too wet, just a little damp along the neckline, but you slid the extra layer over your head gratefully. Before you had to ask him, Minho pointed to a half-open door. “The bathroom. I’m going to get something dry on, too,” he added.

You smiled in relief, escaping to the small bathroom gratefully. As soon as the door was shut, you were scrabbling at the soaking wet denim, peeling it down your legs. You grimaced, not missing this experience at all after the last time. Minho’s sweatpants were soft and oh so warm by comparison. And fleece-lined, too. You slung your jeans over the shower rod to dry, rolled the ankles of your borrowed pants—just enough so you wouldn’t be drowning in excess material—and went in search of that promised hot tea.

You found Minho on the phone in the kitchen. When he noticed you, he waved you closer. “Do you like anything on your pizza?” he asked.

“Um,” you scrambled to collect your thoughts. “Cheese?”

Minho cracked a smile. “Cheese it is then. And peppers, onions, cherry tomatoes, garlic, basil,” he rattled off what sounded like an entire grocery list. When he noticed you staring, Minho raised his brows in confusion. You shook your head with a small laugh, leaving him to it. On the counter behind him, you found two mugs, tea bags already steeping. You wrapped your cold fingers around one, humming in contentment. Finally, the shivers stopped.

“Wanna watch a movie while we wait for pizza?” Minho asked, but then he froze, grimacing. “Oh shit, sorry. I mean, you can go home if you want. I don’t mean to keep you if you don’t want to stay. I have an umbrella, and you can keep the sweats I guess—”

“Sure how about a romance?” you interrupted him, grabbing your tea and making your way to the couch. You plopped down, eyeing Minho, who was still stiff as a board by the counter. You giggled at him, “Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from Mr. Darcy.”

That seemed to knock him out of his stupor. An indignant expression wiped away any trace of sheepishness, and he stomped over to find the remote. “Yeah right,” he scoffed. “I’m not watching a romance.”

“A romantic comedy then,” you decided, snatching the remote out of his hands.

He grabbed it back, lightning quick. “Action.”

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. “Drama. Fight me and I’ll demand a Hallmark movie.”

Minho smirked, “Fight me and I’ll make it a horror movie.”

You groaned in disgust, glaring at him. “Ok, fine, let’s fight over it. Rock, paper, scissors?”

He rolled his eyes, but ended up on the couch beside you, holding one fist out to meet yours. “Best out of three,” he smirked. “Get ready for a zombie fest.”

After a crushing defeat, Minho slumped on the couch, moaning dramatically when you selected Pride and Prejudice. You giggled at the grumpy man beside you, and his similarity to Mr. Darcy. Most notably their matching pouts.

To your surprise, Minho didn’t interrupt the movie once. Sure, he grumbled at first, but when you snuck a peek at him after about half an hour, you caught him watching intently.

You’d seen the movie at least a dozen times by now, but you still couldn’t resist the pull, and your heart fluttered at the brush of hands the way it did every time. Your breath caught at every interaction, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away to save your life. Until the pizza arrived, at least. You were about to press play, two slices at the ready, when Minho looked over at you. “Why are you so in love with the idea of love?” he asked.

You gaped at him for a moment, taken aback. “What?”

“Not just the movie, but real life,” he said, twisting to face you fully. “Why are you so determined to find Mr. Right? Or to set me up on the perfect date?”

“Don’t you want to find someone?” you questioned him, backing away from the question. “You can’t possibly be putting up with me just to avoid your mom playing matchmaker. I’m literally no better than that.”

He scoffed, “You haven’t met my mother.”

“Maybe I should team up with her.”

“Oh please no.”

You grinned, grabbing a slice of pizza. “Oh please yes,” you teased. “Two matchmakers are better than one.”

Minho shot you an unimpressed look. “I told her I already have a girlfriend, but I felt bad lying to her, so I’m hanging out with you instead.”

You nearly choked on your pizza. So you were a pity friend, great. Or worse, you weren’t even real friends, you were just a convenient excuse to alleviate Minho’s guilt complex. You set the slice back down, no longer hungry.

“Hey, you know I’m joking, right? That was a joke. I’m sarcastic all the time, remember?” Minho nudged you.

“Yeah, sure.”

Minho sighed, leaning over to bump his shoulder into yours. “I might not love the matchmaking, or this dumb movie, but I guess I’m glad we bumped into each other so I could tell you to dump ghost boy from Tinder.” You snorted, biting back a small smile. Noticing this, Minho forged ahead, “And this better not be part of the act to get me to forget my first question, because you still haven’t answered.”

“Minho,” you whined. “Why does it matter?”

“Pretend it’s girls night. We’re practically having a sleepover, minus the nail polish and braids. This is the part where we talk about boys,” he smirked.

“I hate you.”

“Do we need to watch 10 Things I Hate About You next?”

Your brows rose. “I thought you didn’t like romance, how do you even know that movie?”

“.....No reason. Now answer the question already,” he huffed.

You sighed, curling up on your end of the couch. “I guess it’s just something I’m not good at, so I can’t help wanting it to fall in my lap,” you said. “I can’t pull all nighters to find love, that’s not how it works.”

“Well no, studying isn’t the answer,” Minho agreed.

“My parents have the kind of love I want. I’m not rosy-eyed or anything, I know it’s hard work and commitment. But the friendship—that’s what I love the most.”

The two of you sat in silence for a little while, Minho chewing on your words. And you mused on your recent attempts to find a partner. Perhaps dating apps weren’t the way to go, you admitted. Not to Minho, though. He’d never let you hear the end of it.

“Maybe,” Minho started. “You should look for new friends instead of new boyfriends.”

“What do you think this is?” you laughed. “I’ve been setting you up, not looking on Tinder or whatever for myself.”

“Good, you’ve wasted enough time on those trash apps already,” he groused.

You grinned at him, “So I guess you don’t want me to start looking for Bumble girls, huh?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

You giggled, but Minho pressed play on the movie before you could tease him any more. To your surprise, he looked as interested in the ending as you were. You doubted he was misty-eyed like you, though.

A yawn snuck up on you, and you glanced at the clock in surprise. How had it gotten so late? “I should probably be going,” you started.

“I’ll walk you home. It’s late.” Minho grabbed your dishes to bring to the sink, snatching them right out of your hands. You blinked after him, then shrugged, making your way to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, your jeans were still damp, but they’d be fine for the walk home. You squeezed yourself back into the denim, emerging with the borrowed sweatpants. “Laundry?” you asked, since Minho was busy with the dishes.

“Just inside the bedroom, next to the door,” he gestured with his chin, hands still sudsy.

You slid the sweatshirt off as well, placing both in the hamper by the door. Despite your curiosity, you didn’t linger, but you caught a glimpse of an equally tidy bedroom. And a large bed with dark sheets. Why was your heart pounding? Mr. Darcy hadn’t been that distracting. You shook your head, hurrying out of the room. Only then you came face-to-face with Minho, and you had to fight a blush. What on earth was wrong with you?

The awkwardness continued, and you felt strange and itchy the whole walk home with Minho. You were hyper aware of how close you were under the umbrella, of the way your elbows brushed every few steps. Minho was surprisingly quiet, as well. Ordinarily, he’d be making fun of you by now.

As you walked the last block together, you tilted your head to look at him. “So tonight was a fail,” you said.

“What the heck are you talking about?”

“The practice date?” you giggled at his expression. “Total failure.”

Minho’s frown deepened, “I thought it was fun. Even if you made me watch a period drama.”

“Oh no, it was wonderful, but the date part of it was a bust. We need to do another, since tonight doesn’t count,” you told him, slowing to a stop in front of your building’s entrance.

“Well what does count?” Minho asked, exasperation dripping from his tone.

“Hmm, something in public. No one ever does a private first date, and obviously that’s what you need the most help with,” you sassed. “Maybe I’ll kick your ass in laser tag or something.”

“Maybe I should beat you in bowling,” Minho retorted.

You hummed, tapping a finger off your chin. “You might be onto something, actually. How about you come up with our next practice date. That’s your homework.”

“Since when is this a class? With homework assignments?” Minho demanded.

“Oh shut it, or I’m making profiles for you on every dating app I know.”

* * * * *

You looked over at Minho, suspicion tugging at you. “So when you said you should beat me at bowling, did you mean it?”

“I’m going to try and win at whatever we do, I’m competitive like that,” Minho said, holding the door open for you.

“No, I mean, are you secretly a professional bowler or something?” you corrected, making your way towards the shoe rental.

Minho chuckled, “I doubt you’ll believe whatever I say.”

You opened your mouth to object, but decided he was right. “You better not be hustling me,” you threatened, slapping cash down on the counter.

“Pay per game or pay per hour?” the attendant asked.

Minho cheekily slid a few bills beside yours. “Best out of three?”

“Insufferable,” you muttered, watching as the attendant took his money instead of yours.

At least Minho looked just as goofy as you did. The brightly colored bowling shoes looked very out of place against his “cool guy” outfit. You’d already poked fun at him. Who showed up to a date wearing sweats? Not that he looked bad in them, but you had at least dressed up a bit. Then again, you might not have worn a dress if you had known that bowling was on the agenda. You tugged at the sleeves of your sweater dress, feeling a bit out of place as you looked at all of the other couples. Jeans, slacks, more jeans...why had you decided to dress up? You should’ve known Minho would pick something casual.

“Hey, you wanna go first, or should I?” Minho’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you shook the negativity away gratefully.

“You go ahead,” you called over to him, trying to find a smile. What were you so worked up about? It’s not like this was a real date. You could have shown up in a potato sack if you wanted, you weren’t trying to impress anyone, least of all Minho. On that thought, maybe he had the better idea after all. You eyed his sweatpants enviously. You knew how comfy they were, and they’d doubtless be better than the tights you were terrified of ripping.

“Ok sweetheart, prepare for a thrashing,” Minho joked, selecting a bowling ball from the rack.

“You prepare for a thrashing,” you countered, despite knowing it was an empty threat. You probably needed the bumpers if you wanted anything but gutter balls. Then you caught sight of the names on the board. “Did you seriously make my nickname ‘Loser’? What are we, five?”

Minho smirked as he passed you. “We’ve been over this, I’m a grandpa, you’ve got one foot in the grave. Childish antics are beneath us,” he said with a laugh.

“So you’re ‘Lee Know’?” you inquired, curious about his chosen nickname.

Minho turned to face you, tilting his head. “Yeah, that’s what my friends call me.”

“...Am I supposed to call you that?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we? Call me whatever you want. Just not ‘asshole’,” he joked. Your heart warmed, and a true smile found its way to your lips. You watched as Minho wiggled a little, eyeing the pins at the end of the lane. Then, to your utmost surprise, he turned around and rolled the ball between his legs.

“What?” you choked on a laugh, nearly falling over at the sight. Minho backed up, and you both watched as the ball rolled down the lane, painfully slow. It ended up knocking down half of the pins, much to your surprise. Minho just looked proud as he picked up another ball. Miracle of miracles, he wound up with a spare.

You had no words, didn’t even bother trying to explain how his technique had any sort of success. Your own attempt was...pitiful by comparison. Your form looked good, but both balls wound up in the gutter in a matter of seconds.

Minho didn’t waste the opportunity to gloat. “Told you I’d beat you at bowling,” he said with a wink.

You grumbled, flopping down onto the bench next to him. “I didn’t expect you to be successful at the toddler technique.”

“Give it a go, maybe we’ll change your nickname if you win,” he laughed, getting up for his turn.

Halfway through the game, you even tried the ‘toddler technique’. This was also a fail, made worse with the mortifying realization that your underwear would be visible if you bent over too far. When your attempt ended up in the gutter, you resolved to get bumpers for the next game.

But Minho had other plans. You had just approached the lane when you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Keep your wrist straight, you keep twisting it at the last second,” he said.

You turned to face him, finding him close behind you. “Anything else, wise one?”

“Don’t overthink it,” he smiled at you. This close, you could swear his eyes were twinkling. “We can both go get bumpers next round, I need them almost as much as you. I’m amazed at my own streak of luck tonight.”

“I’m terrible at bowling,” you whined, looking away from him. Your cheeks felt warm. Gosh, it was embarrassing to be this bad.

“We can go do something else, we don’t even need to finish this game, let alone all three. As long as you’re having fun, I’m happy.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, but looked away quickly. He was watching you so intently, the flush burned hotter, threatening to run down your neck. “I’m sorry you paid for so many games. We can definitely finish them, it’s fine—”

“I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to do,” Minho murmured. You looked at him in surprise, surprised to hear him sounding sincere rather than snarky. “Otherwise, I’d be a shitty friend, wouldn’t I?”

“Right, yeah. An asshole friend,” you agreed, nearly stumbling over the words.

“Ok, I’ll let you focus on your first strike of the night. Don’t overthink it,” he reminded you, walking back to the bench.

You nodded, ignoring the tight feeling in your stomach that reminded you of disappointment. And you sank another one right into the gutter.

Minho’s solution to the bowling fiasco was consolation ice cream. Somewhat surprising, since a part of you had expected him to gloat. Instead, he talked about anything and everything but bowling, entertaining you while you both sat at the window of the local shop. You simply watched him, enraptured. He had hardly opened up at all to you at first. Visiting his apartment felt like the first peek into the real Minho. The happy memories captured in picture frames, the handmade mementos here and there on shelves, all hints as to the soft interior of your once-prickly friend. Now he was regaling you with stories of his best friends—brothers, by the sound of it. Loving rivalry, playful banter, sibling torment. And the look on his face...pride. He was proud of them, his family.

Then you paused, tilted your head to look at him anew. When had Minho stopped being prickly? Where was the cynical, negative, angsty boy you’d befriended, partly out of spite? When had he stopped trying to hold you back with barbed wire edges?

When Minho caught your gaze, he lifted one brow, mouth twitching into a crooked smile. “See something you like?” he sassed you. But his remark was devoid of bitterness. It wasn’t mocking, it was warm, inviting. It was asking you to join in on the joke.

“Yeah,” you said softly. Then you turned up the wattage on your smile, grinning widely at him. “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Minho rolled his eyes at your antics, spinning his ice cream cone between his fingers. But hidden behind your grin was more than a little truth.

* * * * *

You knocked on the door, stepping back tentatively. You could hear raucous laughter on the other side, which would ordinarily have you curious, maybe a little excited to join in. Not tonight. Right now, standing in the hallway outside Minho’s apartment, you were nervous as hell. And on top of it all, you were nearly an hour late, having dragged your feet the whole way there.

“Stop it, this is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, shifting from foot to foot. It felt like meeting the parents, which was dumb. Firstly, you and Minho were not dating. Secondly, these were his best friends, not his parents. And thirdly, you and Minho were good friends. You had nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing.

Which was why you were currently worrying all over the place about meeting Minho’s best friends. What if they hated you? Or worse, what if they pitied you? You thought you’d disappear into a crack in the earth if that happened.

Before you could spend too long contemplating your inevitable end, the door swung open, and a boy came rushing out at you. You gasped, jumping back before he could run into you.

“Sorry, sorry, excuse me!” he blurted, skidding to a stop, then immediately taking off running down the hallway.

You blinked in confusion, but your eyes only widened when a second boy came barrelling out of the apartment after the first. “Minho?”

Minho paused briefly, eyes alighting on your stiff figure. “Hi! Um, I need to take care of something, but I’ll be right back. Go on in,” he waved at you, breaking into a jog, and then a sprint.

Immensely confused, you peered into the apartment, now that the door was wide open. Now or never, you told yourself firmly. Easing through the doorway, you caught sight of six more boys in various states of chaos. Upon noticing your entrance, they all froze. “Uh, hello there,” came a voice on your right. You looked over to see two boys in the kitchen, appearing to be mid-struggle with a bag of popcorn. “You must be Minho’s friend, he said you’d be coming.”

You gave a tiny wave, pasting on a sunshine smile. “Hi guys, it’s nice to meet you, I think? Should I be concerned about the escapee?”

Popcorn boy number two laughed, arms bulging as he ripped open the bag. “Oh no, Hyunjin will be fine. Minho hasn’t made him eat toilet paper in years, he’s above that now.” You must have looked concerned, because the boy chuckled again, waving you off. “It’s all empty threats with that one. Mostly. I’m Changbin, by the way.”

Popcorn boy number one stepped forward, extending a hand to shake. “I’m Chan, and this is our menagerie of chaos. Let me introduce you to everyone,” he offered. You grinned at him, relieved.

By the time Minho returned, practically dragging Hyunjin with him, you were giggling on the couch with the rest of the boys, embroiled in a fierce MarioKart race. With Hyunjin still trapped in a headlock, Minho paused to watch. You just barely caught a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, too focused on staying on the track. Jeongin had chosen Rainbow Road for your first match, and you were determined to crush them in the dust. Even if it had been several years since you last played.

You watched as your character was knocked off the edge, a cry of dismay falling from your lips. “Dang it, I wasn’t even in first place, what gives?”

Han grinned victoriously, only to cry out when he accidentally drove over the edge as well. “Friends fall together?” he joked.

“You made me go ziplining. Alone,” Minho said, announcing his presence at last.

“Uhhhh,” Han fumbled for an excuse. “You love me anyway, though, right?”

Before Minho could retort, Seungmin stood up. “You can play next, if you want,” he offered.

The rest of you blinked at him in surprise, before looking at his screen and realizing he’d already won the race. Jeongin groaned dramatically, flailing on the couch as he came in second. You and Han just gave up entirely, letting your characters fall off the track once more. Meanwhile, Minho finally decided to release Hyunjin, and the blonde escaped to the other end of the couch, diving into a bowl of chips like nothing had happened.

Felix looked excited, so you tossed him your remote for the next round. “I believe I was promised food,” you said, arching an eyebrow in Minho’s direction.

“I believe I told you to arrive at six,” he fired back, stalking towards you. He finally stopped a foot away, looming over you.

You smirked at him, “What did I tell you on our first date?”

The room went silent, and you froze, realizing your mistake. “You guys are dating and you didn’t tell us?” Han exclaimed, eyes wide.

Your mouth opened and closed, but you couldn’t seem to find any words.

“Oh yeah, real fancy dates, too. We had dinner at the Eiffel tower last week,” Minho drawled. “Isn’t that right, sugar plum?” The cherry on top was when he reached out, lightly pinching your cheek.

A stranger might have mistaken his dry tone for sincerity, but everyone in the room knew Minho’s humor well. Half of the group dissolved into giggles. Changbin rolled his eyes and threw a pillow, but Minho caught it before it could smack into you. “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend,” Changbin joked.

“All those promises and no follow through,” Han clucked his tongue in mock-disapproval, then ducked when Minho tossed the pillow at him next.

Your cheeks threatened to catch on fire again. The situation only worsened when you met Minho’s dark gaze, his eyes ensnaring you. “So,” you threw out desperately, clapping your hands together. “The food? Or am I going to starve? Not very boyfriend-like,” you tried to laugh. The joke must have been convincing, because the boys merely chuckled, going back to their game.

Minho still hadn’t moved from where he stood over you. Instead of moving back so you could get up, he extended a hand. You bit your lip, teeth digging in, but you placed your hand in his rather than make a scene. The last thing you wanted was more attention, especially with your cheeks warming up past their usual temperature.

Fortunately, he released you as soon as you regained your footing. Your fingers flexed lightly, hand falling back to your side. You kept your chin high as you followed Minho to the kitchen, ignoring the prickling feeling that the boys were still watching you.

“Pizza?” you blurted out, incredulous. “Don’t you eat anything else?”

Minho snorted, leaning against the counter. “For the record, I do know how to cook.”

You snooped in the fridge, disbelieving. “Of course, all evidence points to you being a five star chef,” you said, casting a pointed look at the empty shelves within.

He chuckled, folding his arms while he watched you investigate. “Sweetheart, if you wanted me to cook for you, all you had to do was ask.”

You hummed, closing the refrigerator once more. “I’m kinda afraid you’ll burn something, to be honest,” you teased, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and selecting a slice of now-cold pizza. You popped the pizza in the microwave, then relaxed against the counter opposite Minho. He was still watching you intently, and you frowned. “What? Do I have something on my face?” you asked him.

Minho shook his head wordlessly. Self-consciousness took hold, and you looked down awkwardly, brushing your hair behind one ear. “Hey, I’m sorry about what I said. I totally didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“I know,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a half smile.

You tipped your chin again, unable to look at him for long. Even if Minho seemed to forgive your blunder, you still couldn’t believe you’d blurted that out. Your hair fell in front of your face again, and you let it, happy to hide behind the locks.

Then another pair of feet appeared a few inches from yours. Plain black socks next to your patterned ones, covered in cartoon rainbows. Then a butterfly touch along the side of your face, soft enough that you almost doubted the sensation. You lifted your gaze, but this time, Minho’s eyes weren’t on yours. Instead, his laser focus was directed on the hair he was gently situating behind your ear again.

You realized you had forgotten to breathe when he finally took a step back, and your lungs remembered to inflate.

“For the record, you’re right,” Minho said softly. “The queen is never late.”

* * * * *

It was nearing midnight by the time Minho’s friends started leaving. You eyed the clock, then went to grab your shoes as well. “I better get going, I want to get home sometime before dawn,” you joked.

“How close do you live? Are you taking the bus?” Chan asked, worry evident in his tone.

You waved him off, “I’m just a few blocks away, not too long of a walk. Bus doesn’t run after ten or so, anyway.”

Chan frowned, but Minho cut him off before he could say anything. “I was going to walk her home, it’s pretty late.”

That was a surprise to you, but seemed to alleviate Chan’s concern. The others waved goodbye on their way out, Chan following them. “Nice to meet you,” he said, shooting you a quick grin before closing the door behind him.

“You really don’t have to,” you started.

“I want to. It’s late,” Minho reminded you.

“I didn’t argue last time, but I didn’t want to steal your umbrella.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m not some little girl in need of protection. It’s a perfectly safe neighborhood.”

Minho didn’t look up, busy tying his shoes. “I like walking.”

“At midnight?”

“Any time of day, really.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you walk Jeongin home, too?”

“Sure did. He moved in with Han, though, so I don’t anymore,” he said simply. “You don’t have a roommate. If no one’s there to make sure you get home safe, I want to walk with you.”

You gaped at him, unable to fault his logic. And not really wanting to. “Thanks,” you murmured, scuffing one shoe into the floor.

Minho stood up again, a crooked smile on his lips. “Don’t mention it,” he said, snagging his keys. “After you.”

Walking home with Minho, you were reminded of the first time. Then, you’d been so awkward, quiet. Unsure of yourself. You’d been worried that you were some kind of pity friend at first, but after getting to know Minho, you knew that wasn’t the case. And now that you’d grown comfortable around each other, you could hardly get him to shut up. Even now, he was talking about his dance team’s newest choreo, his words running together from excitement.

You smiled, just listening. This was all you really wanted, if you let yourself admit it. The Tinder dates were just a shit attempt at finding someone to sit and listen to for hours. You wanted movie nights and quiet mornings with someone who cared about you. You wanted a cute little house and kids and a dog. Maybe a cat. Maybe three.

Shit.

You were so wrapped up in your realization that you didn’t realize you’d reached your apartment building until Minho snagged your elbow to pull you to a stop. “This isn’t a midnight hike, where do you think you’re going?” he asked incredulously.

You laughed nervously, “Oh, sorry, I was pretty lost in thought.”

“Apparently. Were you listening to a word I said? Some friend you are,” he snorted.

Friend. Right. Your realization didn’t mean much. Why were you surprised? You hadn’t had luck in the romantic department in years, why would that change now? Minho was your friend, and it was obvious that his opinion of you wasn’t going to change. Why would it? He was way out of your league.

Gosh, now you felt like a fool. You’d really just daydreamed about a happily ever after with him. Why did you ever bother getting your hopes up? You were always bound for disappointment. Hadn’t your crappy dates taught you anything?

Minho called your name, bringing you back down to reality. “Sorry,” you muttered, fumbling in your bag to find your keys.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Shoot, now he sounded concerned.

You pasted a sunny smile on your face, “Totally fine. Thank you for walking me back. I won’t keep you any longer.”

You turned away to walk up the steps, but the smile fell as soon as he was out of sight. How were you only just coming to the realization that you were halfway—or perhaps all the way—in love with him? His face was burned into your mind’s eye. Brows furrowed in confusion, slight pout, and those damned eyes. You’d probably been in love with his eyes from the beginning.

“I only agreed to let you play matchmaker so I could see you again.”

You stopped at the top of the steps, not quite believing your ears. Turning slightly, you looked at Minho over your shoulder.

Once he had your attention, he continued, “I bailed on the date with your friend because I knew you’d yell at me.”

Lips parting in surprise, you turned to face him fully. Minho put a foot on the first step, gaze locked on yours. You weren’t sure what he saw when he looked at you, but his mouth softened into a slight smile.

“I was going to do the classic move of teaching you to bowl, but I chickened out,” he said. “I wish I hadn’t.”

“What are you...why are you telling me this?” you asked, fingers curling nervously.

He ascended another step, “You only smile like that when you’re sad. When you start getting in your own head about what you deserve.” Another step, “And I’m tired of hiding.”

Now he was only two steps away. Close enough to touch, if you dared to reach out. You didn’t. “We’re friends,” you said, voice small.

“Yeah, we are,” he agreed. Then he bit his lip, drawing your attention like bees to honey. You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes firmly. When you opened them, Minho was on the step just below you. “Tell me to stop,” he said, voice low. You didn’t.

Your breath stuttered to a stop, your whole body stilling at the electric shock of his lips on yours. For a moment, you were frozen, utterly focused on the whisper of a touch. Then Minho pulled away, and you could breathe again, gasping for air. But you didn’t want it to be over. Your eyes fluttered open, finding his dark gaze melting into you.

This time, you let yourself fall into him, ignoring the voice in the back of your head that said this was a fantasy. He caught you, one arm wrapping around your waist, his other hand coming to your jawline. He ascended that final step, pulling your body into his. His lips were plush, a little dry. Real. Minho was here, warm under your fingertips.

His hand slid up into your hair, slowly enough to make you shiver. You sighed into the kiss, goosebumps appearing on your arms as his fingers gently tugged the strands. And then his mouth opened beneath you, and you let yourself tumble into sensation, drowning in him.

You don’t know how long you kissed, but your heart was racing when you finally came up for air. Minho panted, little breaths puffing against your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, the weight somehow grounding you.

“Do you understand now?” Minho’s voice was hoarse, deeper than before. You shivered, just a bit, and the corner of his lips twitched up.

You couldn’t find words, unable to string any coherent thoughts together. And you didn’t really want to, happy to have your mind all to yourself, no doubts in sight. You leaned forward, placing a small kiss on the tip of Minho’s nose. He scrunched his face up, making you giggle. But you needed to know one thing. “Are we—are things different now?”

“We’re dating. Unless you don’t want that,” he backtracked, eyes wide.

You grinned at him. “I do.”

He heaved out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I thought I really fucked up there.”

Now you really laughed, head falling forward to rest on his chest. Minho’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer than you thought was possible. You could hear his heartbeat, thudding just as fast as yours.

“You said the friendship was your favorite part of love,” Minho mused. You hummed in agreement, nodding against him. “Well I hope you don’t get sick of me. I hear I’m pretty annoying.”

“Minho,” you rolled your eyes.

“I know you just rolled your eyes at me,” he teased.

“Well, you are annoying. But I suppose it’s a part of your charm.”

He chuckled, “So that means you like my jokes?”

You smiled fondly, “Don’t push it.”

* * * * *

Masterlist

#skz fanfic #skz fluff #lee know fluff #lee know fanfic #lee know x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #lee know #skz minho #skz lee know #skz imagines #skz scenarios #lee know scenarios #skz minho x reader #minho x reader #lee know fic #skz fic #skz one shot

268 notes · View notes

clericbyers · 3 years ago

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T minus 26 hours... God! How are you feeling right now? With Byeler, I mean. Do you think it'll be requited. I'm genuinely so confused because we are getting so many mixed messages especially with/about Mike. At this point you could tell me that in s4, Mike turns into a muppet who knits socks for orphans and i would believe you sksksksks. Hope you're well btw! :D

I’m so excited !!! So ready to see how S4 goes down! It’s been a few hours since your countdown but now we’re only that much closer … I’ll be staying up until midnight to watch episode 1 since my gaming raid party goes until 11:30 tonight LOL then I’ll finish the rest as the weekend goes. As for Byler, I think it will be requited! I really do … Mike has a lot to discover and come to terms with about himself, especially when we see in the trailers how intense the upside down is becoming. There’s a lot at stake here for everyone involved and Mike’s character growth is still a huge factor in all of this. I do think it’s requited, as where else is there to go from here? Mike is so into D&D again, he’s allowing himself to enjoy what he likes, and I have a huge feeling being with El reverts him back to his worst self, which will be a revelation that hey—this isn’t good for anyone. But who is his best self with? Will. It has and always will be with him. Whether we get confessions or the beginnings of a relationship in volume 1 is unknown to me so far though I’m leaning toward no, unless in ep7 that when Mike at least says/does something to prove he likes Will back. I expect volume 2 to showcase their relationship if confirmed. We’ve got a whole movie and a half to look forward to in July, a lot can happen and I believe that part of that is Byler and their relationship!

Anything goes right now, so I’m excited to see where that anything , well, goes! I don’t trust reviewers with info like subtle things — this season, the potentials of byler, Mike’s character, etc— as a lot of the potentials are deep subtext that they frankly aren’t going to see unless they can relate to the queer coming out story Mike seems to be developing. And I highly doubt these reviewers do — though concerning everything, it’s up to ourselves to create and develop our own opinions. It does you no good to lean on someone else’s to color your first time watch experience! So , go in excited, expect what you want , whether that is everything or absolutely nothing , and enjoy yourself! I know I will ☺️

#yams speaks #byler #st4 #I’m so ready for this #I am negative abt many things still and worried that s3 attitudes might prevail into s4 but #in the long run I just hope everything settles in well

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captainsspnanon · 2 years ago

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C2E56 - The Favor - rewatch reaction

BEA-CON. BEA-CON. BEA-CON. BEA-CON. BAD. ASS. CA-LEB. BAD. ASS. CA-LEB.

Can you tell I’m excited for this episode????

Holy fuck I forgot Tal wasn’t here for this one!!

OH SHIT, Aimee’s in the Sam bit! HI AIMEE!!!!!!

Wait, Grey DeLisle too?? It’s just early cameo time!

Tony Hale, he was in TLOVM too, wasn’t he?

Skipped the intro again. It’s interesting, I haven’t skipped the C3 intro yet, but I think it’s because I’ve been watching it live or live-ish on twitch, rather than the youtube release. I think I’d be skipping it if I were on youtube. I skipped the C1 intros fairly early on, only watching them maybe one or two times apeice. C2 I watched for a bit but then started skipping.

(I also keep wanting to go on tumblr, but because I’m now in the watching of Calamity e3 to finish it sometime this weekend, I’m now trying to actually avoid full on finale stuff. Which makes it hard because I follow a ton of CR folks, so basically have to disconnect until I’m ready. ….I might give up by tomorrow)

(wow it is long past when I typed that up, isn’t it? It’s been...something. Left my dnd group halfway through the second session and been too mentally screaming at the world for CR. But time to jump back in! I want my Essek! [though I don’t even remember if he shows up this episode or if it’s the next.] Also Calamity was super fucking awesome, omg)

I’d actually paused right after the intro, for which I’m VERY glad, because having the refresher of ‘last we left off’ really helped this time. Also, I love how it’s now, after over a year of the M9 and years of VM, that Matt is finally accepting that the cast will shout obscenities at him before the game. I’m fairly certain they did this in C1 as well, how did he think that they would stop? XD

I do miss the Detect Magic, Identify, Comprehend Languages ritual I-know-everything of Caleb. This is a PC that is very unique to this campaign, as in C1 and so far in C3, we don’t have anyone else with that heavy focus into learning what things are and being able to share that with the group. It’s also good confirmation that it’s not something that is needed, but also doesn’t break a campaign when it’s there. The Nein, while more easily able to learn what things are, still end up muddling through the same way the VM did, and sometimes even with the knowledge end up going down the wrong path. Plus, as we know upcoming, Identify doesn’t always indicate that an item is cursed, so they are still tricked by that as well.

Matt giving the explanation that the demon heart didn’t collapse into sludge like the rest of the body because it was pulled out using electricity, and then immediately going ‘also ‘cause it’s fucking cool that you have a demon heart so you get to keep it despite RAW’.

FRIENDSHIP FRIENDSHIP!!!!! First they all crack up and get Matt to facepalm with the numerous pussy jokes, then Matt gets them sweating by very visibly holding up a d20 ‘just because it’s pretty’.

Matt!Caduceus just sounds like Sam Elliott from The Big Lebowski. Also, once again, having the players initiate and then Matt be like ‘nope we’re waiting for the player to be here’, though it seemed clear that the players weren’t expecting the moment to happen. Instead, it was 1) wanting to hear Matt’s impression, and 2) initiating the moment so that it won’t lead to any ‘you didn’t ask me about this for a WEEK’ type situations.

(also lol I typed Sam Eliot first then double checked the spelling. LOOK, Leverage is fucking awesome okay. And I will 100% be doing a Leverage rewatch reaction at some point too, because it’s so good and I have thoughts.)

I’m honestly not sure if Fjord was trying to check and see if Caleb was still willing to turn on the party, or if Travis was giving Liam an opportunity to admit that Ikithon used a memory spell to have Caleb turn on his family. My best bet is that it was a level of both combined. Liam is way too fucking good at portraying sad, broken Caleb though MY HEART. I had been looking forwards to the post conversations of the mental takeover, but thinking on it, I think this might actually be it? I don’t remember any big moments about it, so it might actually be more easily pushed aside as ‘it was mind control, no need to read anything further into it’. UGH YASHA MY HEART. I can’t wait until Ashley’s back. Matt does some good stuff as Yasha, but Ashley is the one who really captures how broken she feels because of the multiple instances of mind control, and just how much she hates it.

I will say that the biggest character jump for me, from C2 to C1, was seeing the transition from Yasha to Pike. Fjord to Grog is big, but Travis is very clever in the way he plays Grog and uses his own intelligence to KEEP Grog from being intelligent. But Yasha to Pike?? It’s just two very different extremes, and yet two utter badasses. While I’m still sure that watching C2 first was the right choice for me for a number of reasons, I do wonder what it must have been like going from the C1 PCs into the C2 PCs and seeing all of these different people suddenly. I didn’t have a jarring sensation moving into C3, but that’s because I’d seen C2 and then C1. I am looking forwards to my eventual C1 rewatch, to see if now that I’m more used to them playing different characters, if I might warm up more to the C1 PCs, which I’m much more neutral towards at this time. I like them, but I don’t really LOVE any of them the same way I adore the C2 crew. (I’ve got some that I love from C3, the remainder I think just need time to keep growing on me, but I like ‘em all!)

Have I ever given Laura enough credit for how she just thoroughly embodies her PCs? I don’t think I have. NOT ENOUGH, NEVER ENOUGH. Jester freaking out in excitement over another follower of the Traveler is just SO completely in character that it’s as if I can’t imagine the reaction any other way. Laura is just not there, there is only Jester. And Laura has done this fantastically with Vex and with Imogen, just embodying them SO well and so naturally!

I’m really just singing praise for all of these guys as actors because they’re all fucking phenomenal, each just hits me harder at certain moments, and right now it’s Laura.

Covak “thought it was strange that a fair folk would visit an old codger like myself” holy shit is this the first obvious hint we have that the Travler is Artagan??? And the language was completely breezed over in the moment! But no one in Exandria uses the term Fair Folk for the deities! *does a transcript search* okay maybe no one uses them for the fey either. The only other useage of it was Kaylie telling Scanlan off, in reference to herself. BUT STILL. It’s such common usage in the real world! I completely feel like it was a hint from Matt.

I forgot that the other followers of the Traveler tend to do a lot more mean spirited ‘pranks’. Shitting in wells? That’s….not a prank. That’s contaminating the water supply and making who knows how many people sick.

I also forgot how jealous Jester is of her position with the Traveler and being his favorite – though I’m now remember she has him remove other people’s ability to do Sending because she thought it was her own special spell. As much as she’s constantly a sweetheart, there are definitely moments where she’s a bit darker. I tend to forget that.

Lol at them being told that by finding the rift machine that they have done ‘a great service to the Dynasty’. LADY YOU AIN’T SEEN NOTHING YET.

I do like that the entire group doesn’t feel like they have to do the high Charisma = player must do all the talking. In each campaign, you’ve got the talkers and then you’ve got the Talkers, but because they don’t feel like they have to limit it to the best in order to Win, you get amazing scenes of people who REALLY SHOULDN’T BE TALKING leading to unexpected and wonderful outcomes.

I’m interested in finding out if I’m right or wrong, but I think Lythir is Lythir Tasithar, and is also the mage that they fought who is going to give them shit to the Bright Queen?

I FORGOT ABOUT THE BDSM GEAR HOW COULD I FORGET ABOUT THE BDSM GEAR

I’m so glad that they brought the moorbounders with them. Honestly, I wish they kept them more through the campaign, but once they weren’t in Xhorhas, it doesn’t really make sense. I headcanon that they got them back from Bazzozan and that they are kept at the Xhorhaus while the gang is there, but when they are not that they are treated well and are quite happy.

For as much that I don’t have to say during the waiting period, there actually are good character moments here. Imagine early campaign Beau being told that she’d be used as a human bench. She wouldn’t just joke about throwing a bench, she’d likely physically harm the person AND have some very nasty comments in return. Caleb wouldn’t just exasperatedly ask how he’d managed to get here with these people, he’d be thinking of plans to throw them under the bus and ways to ensure only his and Nott’s safety, and only his if it REALLY came down to it. It’s subtle, but it’s so much honest progress for these two, just the sheer growth that the Nein has put them through.

For all that this episode is SUCH a game changer for the campaign, I’m genuinely surprised to rediscover that the actual moment is so brief. For an episode that is three hours long only, the conversation with the Bright Queen doesn’t even START until 2:39.

This is also where I go ‘wait, that’s the voice??’ This has happened a few times during a campaign. Essek, while he’s not here yet, I’ve seen clips of him speaking and it always takes me a moment to remember how he sounds. As for the Bright Queen, I remember it sounding a bit more feminine, so I’m wonder if Matt adjusts how he speaks later in the campaign, or if it’s just a case of remember the character rather than the actor, and the voice changing accordingly.

I FORGOT NOTT USED THE MOTE OF POSSIBILITY AAAAAAA (This at 2:44. Man, the defining moment of this episode REALLY doesn’t come til late!)

I can’t imagine how the campaign would have gone if Caleb didn’t give the beacon (we’re not even at that moment YET!). Seriously! They VERY suddenly were in complete shit. Using the mote, and then with Lythir confirming that they attacked the Kryn (defended themselves but who cares about the technicalities here???), they were going to be attacked, arrested, guaranteed their bags would be searched and I completely agree with Liam that the beacon would have been found and then they would have been SUPER fucked. So it’s so interesting to watch this and have no clue how it could have turned out, and remember that pretty much everyone else did NOT like the choice that Liam made! And I say Liam and not Caleb!! Because if I recall correctly, especially during the Talks, that it was out of character disagreement with the choice of action! (correction from a few minutes ahead, okay, Travis is really against, but Laura is for, Sam seems to be either way, not sure how Marisha reads it, I think she was against? But also like, not against in that they’re going to hold it against Liam or anything like that. FUN disagreement, not anger disagreement)

2:51. Ten minutes left of the episode (including any end card time), and NOW Caleb is starting his desperate play.

LOL the episode ended RIGHT after and then it was just Matt being like ‘wtf do I do now’ for the next five minutes or so. I LOVE IT.

FUCKING GAME CHANGER. LET’S GO. (no essek yet sadface)

@suicidallyreckless

#critical role #the mighty nein #cr c2 rewatch #spoilers for c1 and c2

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puckngrind · 3 years ago

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Leave Her Wild: chapter 3 - N. MacKinnon

Summary: MacKenzie heads to Washington and cashes in her bet with Nathan.

Warnings: swearing, fluff and stuff

Word count: 2,565 (swear they will get longer)

Series masterlist / Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Washington.

The two texted back and forth over the week. Mostly randomness with a splash of real life. A friendship was blooming with the text conversation but what else could come of it? Neither one seemed to want to touch the subject. Kenzie wasn't even sure what to make of the attention from Nate. She threw herself into work as she normally would.

MacKenzie spent a few days in Colorado Springs for work but took advantage of her time off by hiking the Garden of the Gods. She was was halfway through Palmers trail when she feels her phone and decides to stop for water and take in the view plus check her phone thinking it was work. She laughs to herself realizing it was in fact not work.

Nate: how’s Colorado Springs?

She snaps a picture of her view and sends it.

Kenzie: gorgeous as always

Nate: holy shit are you hiking alone?

Kenzie snaps a selfie where you can see she’s alone and sends it.

Kenzie: don’t worry not anything too dangerous today. Lol

Nate: ok… not worried. Anyways, thought maybe dinner could be in DC since we will both be there next week.

Kenzie thinks about it and starts walking again. She realizes dinner out of town may in fact make things less awkward.

Kenzie: depends on my schedule but that should work

Nate: good. Enjoy the rest of your hike.

MacKenzie did just that. One thing most people knew about her was she loved adventures and trying new things. She rarely goes to the same vacation spot twice. Always wanting to try new restaurants and really only frequents Gus’s place in Denver. She liked to be free which drove her mother insanely crazy but MacKenzie didn’t seem to care. Her dad was her biggest supporter. Constantly sending her wanderlust Instagram posts after she taught him how. At least her mom had home in Kenzie’s brother, Cameron. Cam was doing everything he was expected to do including recently proposing to his high school sweetheart which Kenzie thought was dumb as seniors in college. His life was his life that was for sure, well and maybe their mother's life too. She couldn't control Kenzie which meant Cam got all of her energy.

The flight to D.C. was a breeze but busy would be an understatement as MacKenzie met her client at the end of the week. The demands were insane in the time frame. She spent almost all weekend in her hotel room working and talking with her team back in Colorado.

Nate: would you want to come to the game? I have tickets.

Kenzie: I would love to but I don’t even know if I can do dinner I’m so swamped

Nate: you need to eat right?

Kenzie: I mean, yeah. I’ll order in

Nate: how about you come to my hotel, we have an amazing restaurant here. You can work and eat

MacKenzie thought it over as she looked out her window. Walking the block and a half to Nathan’s hotel tomorrow night seemed doable. He had a point that she needed to eat and could work while they ate. It would complete their wager from the card game in the same instance. Wondered if Gabe or one of the other players would be around to ensure the dinner happened. MacKenzie thought she wouldn’t have the awkwardness of it feeling like a date this way. Plus, she wanted to try the restaurant out since last time she was in town and another client mentioned it. Mosi was all for the dinner when she called ensuring Kenzie her condo's mail was indeed checked. She thought this was the perfect arrangement and MacKenzie couldn’t find a reason to say no. Thinking Nate would already be at the arena for the game she sent a text.

Kenzie: Yes, to dinner at your hotel if you are still up to it after the game

She starts typing away again and laughs when the ping is almost immediate.

Nate: Perfect. I'll text you when we are back on the bus.

MacKenzie decided to turn the game on while she worked. She normally would have something on as background noise while she worked. She knows she can get lost in work and wanted to make sure she knew to pack up her laptop and such waiting for Nathan's call. She hears his name and looks up to see him score with less than a minute left. The Avalanche was already been leading but that goal ensured their win. She decided to change then couldn’t decide if she should pack up her work yet. “How sure how much time would he take between the game and the bus?” Kenzie asked her reflection. She texted him nice game to see if he would respond. He did a few moments later so she packed up slowly. Kenzie walks down to the street turning to head over to his hotel, humming to herself trying to not over think this very simple dinner. She slows down as she sees the charter bus in front of the hotel. Fuck.

"MAAAAC! Good to see you!" Gabe's voice comes booming out of the bus with some others chiming in as the stepped off the bus. MacKenzie awkwardly smiles at the team and then catches Nathan out the side of her eye. He’s staring at her as he walks down the step.

"Did you walk?" Nathan looks down at MacKenzie puzzled.

"Well, hello. Nice game. And yes. Just two blocks." MacKenzie pulls at her loose curl and then slides her finger down her messenger bag.

"Ready for dinner? I see you brought your work." Nathan taps her bag with his knuckle. MacKenzie nods and follows Nathan into the hotel. She awkwardly stops and he realizes it. “Whatcha doin’ there?” Nate walked back so he was standing in front of Kenzie.

“Isn’t the restaurant that way?” She points in the direction of the sign she stopped next to.

“Yes but they deliver to the room and I’d rather change into sweats and let you work in comfort.” He pulls at his tie. “Less eyes too. Come on.” Nathan placed his hand briefly on MacKenzie’s lower back to lead her to the elevator.

“I normally take the stairs.” MacKenzie looks around Nate for the steps.

“My room is on floor 12 and I just had over 20 minutes of ice time. Can we please take the elevator?” Nathan looked into MacKenzie’s questioning eyes.

“Fine. You have a point.” She smiles but gets lost calculating if that time is high or low for him.

They make their way to Nathan’s room. MacKenzie is surprised how nice it is. She’s not sure what she expected but it wasn’t this. Nathan’s suits neatly hanging up. Sweats sitting in his open luggage next to the closet. She realizes he hasn’t moved from behind her.

“Everything okay?” He moves to grab a pair of shorts and shirt.

“Yeah. Just not what I was expecting. You literally live out of suitcase don’t ya?” She watches him take off his suit coat and gulps at how his shirt is sticking to him.

“Some trips it feels like that. This one we won’t be home until the 26th… then a home stand with a few games on the road… and I’m boring you. Set up wherever you want and I’m gonna go change then will be right back.” He heads to the bathroom shut the door softly.

MacKenzie stares at the uncomfortable looking desk chair in a moment of indecision wanting to be set up so she’s working when Nate returns, she decides the bed was a better option for her to sit. Getting out her laptop Kenzie starts typing as soon as she hears Nate opening the door. He smirks when he sees Kenzie on the bed and moves to the desk to find the menu. She cannot help watching him. His muscles easily seen in the shirt and shorts he picked. He hikes up his pant leg exposing his thigh. Kenzie coughs focusing back on her work again.

"Here it is." Nathan turns around and walks towards MacKenzie handing her the menu. She stares at the menu then her finger lands on a cheeseburger and fries. Nathan moves to the other side of the bed, sitting to call in the order. He hangs up and starts to move.

"You can stay here. That chair is horrible looking." MacKenzie looks over at Nathan and he stops moving then looks down at his feet before swinging them up and adjusting to sit on the bed.

"Thanks." He looks over at her screen. "So what exactly do you do?"

"Simple description... I am a social media consultant." MacKenzie giggles. "Speaking of... your social media..." "Is non-existent." Nathan finishes her statement.

"Yeah, only two posts. That’s shocking for someone your age. Nate, do you know how you could amplify your earnings post career?" MacKenzie moves her computer and shift so look at him. He rubs the back of his neck and rotates on his hip to look at her better.

"Yeah. No, yeah. I get it. Just not my thing but you looked at my socials?" He bites his lip.

"I did after we ran into you at the bar post-game. Would've felt funny giving you my number if you had a girlfriend." MacKenzie admits.

"No girlfriend. So did you say you watched the game?" Nate changes the subject which Kenzie made a mental note of.

"Background noise while working. You can turn the tv on now or just talk to me. You scored." Kenzie looks over at Nathan.

"Empty netter but yeah. Nice win." Nathan says softly. The knock on the door stops their conversation. "Oh, dinner!" Nathan pops up and answers the door.

Dinner was delicious. The two shared backgrounds such as where they were from, college for MacKenzie, boarding school and early days of hockey for Nathan. They were laughing at each other's stories which lead to both laying on their stomachs watching a video for MacKenzie's work on her laptop.

"Kenz... Kenzie. Wake up!" Nathan whispers and MacKenzie's groggy self pops up and lands on Nathan's naked torso.

"Holy fuck!" She yells out. Nathan's hands steady her.

"Hey." Nathan backs up and bends to look her in face. Panic written all over her face. "You okay? We fell asleep talking." He looks at her.

"Why didn't you wake me? What time is it? Fuck. Sorry. I'm on a schedule." MacKenzie pulls away and looks for her bag realizing Nathan plugged her computer in at some point.

"It's 6:30. We just slept. I sleep shirtless and, uh, must've taken it off in my sleep. Sorry, should've put in on before I woke you. Hold on." Nathan moves to the other side of the bed and throws his shirt back on. "Let me call you an uber." He grabs his phone.

"I can walk. I don't have a meeting until noon so I'm fine. Thank you." MacKenzie points to the bathroom and Nathan nods.

She stands in front of the mirror for way too long just looking at herself. Pinches her cheeks and starts ranking her fingers through their loose blonde curls making them manageable enough to put up in a high ponytail. She grabs Nathan’s toothpaste and brushes her teeth with her finger.

“Well, Mac. This will have to do.” She bobs on the balls of her feet to psych herself up. Returning to the room she notices that Nathan had changed and slipped on some shoes. “Whatcha doin’ Nate?”

“I’ll walk with you. I wanted to grab coffee from down the street before we leave for the airport.” He grabs his wallet.

“You don’t have to.” Kenzie whispers as she heads to her bag.

“I don’t, but I wanna.” Nate smiles at her. She notices those soft eyes again. Almost gray but then again blue.

They head out of room to the steps. MacKenzie took a deep breath not realizing she was holding it until they got to the door.

“Why good morning you two!” Gabe’s voice comes from around the corner with a bag and coffee in hand.

“Mornin’” Nate answers and pushes the cross walk button.

“Glad to see you Kenzie.” Gabe nods and starts whistling while heading back to the hotel.

“Don’t mind him.” Nate breaks the silence after crossing the street.

“I’m assuming he’s thinking you got lucky last night.” MacKenzie tries to control her racing heart.

“I’ll talk to him.” Nathan assures her. She stops and looks up at him.

“Did you want to?” She puts her hand on her head not sure she really said it out loud.

“What?” Nathan stops and looks at her confused.

“Did you want to sleep with me?” She looks to see if anyone could hear her.

“No. Well… damnit. Hi. Let me start over.” Nathan looks deep in her eyes and cups her face.

“Go ahead.” She’s not sure if the words actually could be heard or not.

“I like you. You are easy to talk to. In the short time I’ve known you I’m constantly wanting to know more. I’m just bad at dating.”

“Why do you say that?” She moves closer to him without thinking.

“I’m not romantic. Plus my job isn’t the easiest for most of the year to maintain a healthy relationship. Plus, there is those who just want me for what I could give them.” He drops his hand to her hip. She sees his chest rise and fall.

“Who says you aren’t romantic?” MacKenzie questions.

“Every girl I’ve dated.” Nathan grumbles. This makes Kenzie laugh. “Well, they have.”

“I like you too, Nate. You intrigue me.” She feels the heat in her cheeks.

“So to answer your original question, yes. I would very much like to be physical with you but I also want to date you. Like not to fuck it up by…” She stops him by pushing herself to her tip toes to softly kiss his cheek.

“Well, saying all that is a start in how not to fuck it up.” She smiles at him. “Let’s get me back to my hotel then we can visit this whole dating thing when you return to Denver.” She starts walking and he quickly grabs her hand to walk with her.

“Here we are.” He stops at the doors of her hotel. “So, I’ll see you in two weeks, Kenzie.” Nathan drags out the two while contorting his face.

“It’s not that long plus you will be busy and I have this plus another project to finish before then.” She rubs the back of his hand with her thumb realizing how large his hand was in comparison which could crush her hand if he wanted. “Thanks for dinner Nate.”

“Can I?” He starts and gulps. MacKenzie watches his Adam’s apple bob. “Can I kiss you?” He asks with a quiver in his voice. She nods her head yes. Nate brings his hands up to her jaw holding her face up while he leans in pressing his lips to hers. Kenzie kisses him back and cannot remember a first kiss quiet like that. He releases while sucking in a deep breath.

“I…” Kenzie touches her lips.

“Well, see you soon Kenzie.” He kisses her forehead then turns quickly to head back down the street leaving Kenzie wanting more.

#leave her wild fic #nate the great 29 #N MacKinnon fic #2019 hockey season #nathan mackinnon

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matbarzyy · 4 years ago

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4 times you made Mat’s apartment feel like home and 1 time you didn’t

A/N: This is my first ever attempt at a 4+1, I figured it’d be fun to try. This is angst so that I don’t always post fluff/smut, I like to mix it up lol. It was supposed to be a relatively short one and I somehow ended up at 5k so enjoy I guess.

Word count: 5210

Warnings: Heartbreak I guess

One month.

It was the longest you had gone without seeing Mat since you had moved in together. You were both buzzing for him to come back so you could be sharing the same space again, you could never get enough of each other.

“Hello beautiful,” Mat’s grin was the biggest you had ever seen on his face, it was the kind of smile he could never fight off even if he wanted to.

“Hi handsome,” You returned the greeting with the words you used every time he called you. It started off as a joke but quickly became a habit that made both of your hearts flutter.

Mat didn’t hesitate to step forward and engulf you in a tight hug, his bags forgotten by the door.

“I missed you,” He breathed out, squeezing you against him and bathing in the feeling of holding you again. You smelled like home. It was everything he had been dreaming of alone in his bed, your warmth, the way you fit perfectly against his body.

“You’re never going anywhere without me again,” You mumbled against his chest, knowing you wouldn’t be pulling away for another minute or two at least.

You said it every time, you hated being away from him, but after you settled down together for a few days you went back to your usual mood. Mat needed to move, he loved hockey and visiting his family or travelling for games. You loved coming with him for those things, but sometimes he had to go alone and you were both okay with it.

Things never changed. You loved each other more than words could describe, some time apart would never break that. Every time Mat came home he still felt the exact same way about you, and you felt the exact same way about him. It was comfortable and safe to be together, you made each other happy.

“Do you mind if I go shower quickly? And then we can get cuddled up in bed?” Mat kissed the top of your head, rubbing your back gently as he pulled back to look at you.

“Can I come in the shower with you?” Your arms remained around his torso, refusing to let him go, and a soft smile grew on his face.

“Of course baby,”

There was nothing sexual about it, although you could never lie about what seeing Mat naked did to you. It was intimate and comforting, something you desperately needed after missing out on hugs and kisses for so long.

“You have no ideas how many times I dreamed of this with you,” Mat guided you under the stream of water so that you could rinse off the soap he had been rubbing over your body.

Steam was building up in the room, making the mirror foggy and warming up the air. You liked it that way, it meant less fighting between you and Mat to be under the hot water.

“It’s been the same here for me,” You kissed his jaw and guided him to turn around so that you could rub his back. “I think about you constantly,”

“You wanna go on a date tomorrow night?” He spoke softly as the tension fell from his muscles. You were magic.

“Of course,” You kissed his shoulder blade. “We always go on a date the day after you get back,”

“I know,” He hummed, turning back to face you. “I always look forward to it, it makes things feel normal again,”

“Mat?” You whispered because of how close he suddenly was, his hands at your waist and his forehead resting against yours.

“Mmh?”

“I love you so much it still overwhelms me every time I see you.” You told him without shying away. Mat was your safety, the person you confided everything in, and you opened your heart to him without hesitation.

His lips found yours without a reply, but the way he kissed you told you enough. You wrapped your arms around his neck to get closer and felt his own tighten around your body, pulling you in until the rest of the world disappeared. Mat murmured something against your lips when he gently pushed your back against the wall, but his lips were still so close to yours that you couldn’t decipher the words.

What he said didn’t really matter, Mat was home.

“It’d be cute if we had a puppy,” Mat finished folding your favorite blanket on the couch to tidy the living room. It was all he had found to keep himself busy, but since the place was already clean there wasn’t much for him to do.

“Mmh, yeah, maybe,” You smiled at him as you looked up from your laptop, barely hearing his words but replying anyway because you didn’t want to ignore him.

You still had a lot of work to do but Mat was being the most distracting person ever. He thought it was fair, it was his first weekend home in a long time and he hadn’t spent time with you apart from sleeping in at least three weeks, if not a month. He had then spent two days away and just got back. He knew it wasn’t like he left for a roadie or some other long trip, but he had still expected you’d catch up on quality time together.

“What kind of dog would you want?” He interrupted your focus once more, hoping it would start an actual conversation that would stop him from being so bored. He knew there were other things for him to do, but nothing he wanted to do without you.

“I don’t know Mat,” You half sighed, frowning as you struggled to put the end of your sentence together.

“I think a golden retriever would be cute,”

“I’m still working, you mind giving me just another hour of quiet?” You eventually tore your eyes from the screen to give him your full attention. It was what he wanted, but not exactly like this.

“Yeah sure,” Mat tried not to take it to heart, you didn’t sound snappy, but he still felt like you didn’t want him around.

He missed you and everything you used to do together, he couldn’t help being needy, and your rejection, although justified, hurt him.

You bit your lip as you got through the last of your emails, doing everything you had to get done by the end of the night while Mat stayed in your shared bedroom on his own. You almost called him over to tell him he could watch something with you while you worked, but it would be too distracting for you and you didn’t know if he was mad at you.

“Hey champ,” You quietly opened the door to the bedroom, tiptoeing to your side of the bed because it was the closest. “Can I join?” You knew he’d be watching hockey for a while still, and while you weren’t particularly in the mood to focus on a game you just wanted to be with him.

“Course,” He glanced at you but focused back on the screen quickly. He was clearly in work mode too, watching players carefully to see what he could pick up from them to up his game.

You hesitated for a second, wondering if you were bothering him, but you climbed into the bed anyway. Mat opened an arm wordlessly, inviting you to cuddle, and you didn’t need more to come rest against his side. Your eyes fell shut faster than you thought they would, you were too tired to focus on the game and the warmth of Mat’s body was all you needed to start feeling sleepy.

His body slid down with yours, putting you both under the covers while you blinked your eyes open. You didn’t realise it had been that long, and you stirred a little as you tried to look at him.

“What…”

“Shh,” He kissed your forehead, pulling away to grab the remote and turn the TV off. “Go to sleep,” He didn’t let you move much, wanting to keep you in the position you were about to fall asleep into.

“You were watching the game,” You mumbled, not complaining that you had to keep your head on his chest. It was warm and comfortable, you liked feeling his heartbeat under your palm where you rested your head.

“I don’t care about the game, just wanna cuddle you,” He usually watched players carefully, but he had only put this one on to wait for you. There was nothing he wanted more than to be in bed with you, every problem of the day long forgotten as you held onto each other.

Right there, watching you fall asleep on his chest, Mat felt at home.

“What are you all dressed up for?” You looked up from your work to see Mat just finishing to button his shirt.

“I just got back, it’s date night,” His heart deflated when he realised you had forgotten, but he felt a little bit better when you closed your laptop without hesitation.

“Shit, I’m sorry. What time do we need to be there?” You glanced at your watch and bit your lip nervously.

“In half an hour, it’s fifteen minutes away,” He had picked a restaurant you mentioned wanting to try, but now that he thought about it he figured he should have made reservations somewhere he was curious about.

“I’ll hurry, we might be five minutes late?” You hoped he wouldn’t be too mad at you.

Somehow, you would have preferred a little bit of anger you could talk out than the disinterested shrug he gave you as he replied.

“Sure, it’s whatever,”

You were still thankful he never, ever raised his voice. You couldn’t take that, he had known from the start that it would only make things worse. You had enough bad experiences with men yelling in your life and you didn’t want to have to deal with more, so he had promised to always talk things out with you. He promised that no matter the temper he sometimes had on the ice, that would never be him off it.

It was part of the reason you trusted him so much. He was a wall of muscles compared to you, but you were never scared of him because he had always acted as soft as a golden retriever puppy around you.

Mat busied himself on his phone while you rushed to put on a nice blouse with trousers you recently bought. You tied the look with a pair of heels and put on a little bit of makeup before grabbing your purse and phone to meet him at the door.

“Okay I’m ready,” You followed him quickly, heading to his car while you ran your hand through your hair in hope of making it look alright.

“You’ve been working insane hours lately,”

“So have you,” You didn’t want to be mean, but Mat was always training. Working overtime wasn’t that common for you, once you were out of the office you were the most normal person, whereas Mat’s job followed him everywhere and was much harder to plan around.

“I guess yeah,” He nodded, eyes focused on the road.

Things were different lately. You were distant, barely doing anything with him, and he knew part of it was his fault too. It was one of those hard times when everything felt out of place, but they had never lasted so long in your relationship before.

“The position for general manager is open, I’m really hoping I have a shot at it,” You explained to hopefully settle the mood in the car. There was a reason you were pushing yourself until late at night, and Mat felt bad for reacting that way.

“Oh wow, shit that’s good,” He cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You were busy,” You shrugged it off, trying not to make him feel like it was another dig at him.

“It doesn’t mean I don’t care,” His palm faced up when he rested his hand on his knee, hoping you’d take it.

“I know,” You placed your hand in his and squeezed reassuringly.

Dinner was still a little uncomfortable, but it wasn’t as bad as the moment you spent in the car.

It was hard to place why, but the conversation felt forced. You had never found it so hard to talk to Mathew before, things had always flowed between you, but for the past few months you had grown on your own sides without sharing as much as you used to. The hockey season was just starting and you were following it, but you didn’t know as much as you should about what was going on with the team.

Mat told you about the guys and you struggled to catch up, not knowing much of what had been going on with any of his friends lately. You used to be tight with his team, they were like family, but you couldn’t even remember the last time you had even seen Tito.

Things were different, somehow, you had drifted apart and you were both clinging to something that would bring you back together. The drive back from the restaurant was quiet, music from the radio filling the gap that neither of you could acknowledge out loud.

You didn’t know where you fit in the bed that night, holding your pillow rather than Mat because he was taking too long in the shower. He never did that before, on any other date night you would immediately go to bed together, cuddling or more. Mat rarely took more showers than he needed unless he had something heavy on his mind, and he certainly never took that long in them.

You were half asleep when Mat slid into the bed behind you, burning hot from the water as he wrapped himself around your body to spoon you. You naturally relaxed against him, the tension you didn’t realise you were holding in your shoulders disappearing when he left a kiss on the back of your head.

“You know I love you, yeah?” Mat snuggled closer and made sure you were both comfortable under the covers.

“I love you too, so much,” You grasped his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips to kiss his knuckles.

As silence filled the room your hearts still beat together, soft thumps lulling you into a peaceful sleep. There were things to talk about, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed. Mat knew that no matter what, you’d forever be his home.

“It’s just a week,” Mat told you as he put his bags by the door, Tito was already on his way to pick him up, it was only a matter of minutes now.

“Yeah,” You tried to smile weakly, but he didn’t make the same effort.

“Can we talk about whatever the hell is going on with us?” He forced himself to bring it up now. He didn’t want to come back and pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t, some issues needed to be addressed before he left.

He knew that when he came back you’d both fall back into each other, blaming this week of distance for everything that was wrong, but there was more to it.

“I feel like we’re falling apart, Mat,” You voiced the fears that had been in your mind for weeks. “I just… I don’t know. I should be excited you’re going to play, or sad you won’t be home, but things have been so empty lately,”

“It feels like it won’t even change anything,” He nodded, glancing down at his feet. You were both weirdly calm about starting this conversation, days of apathy towards each other leading you to feeling numb.

“But that used to be a good thing, it didn’t matter that you were home or away, we were always fine when we talked,” You didn’t understand how or when things shifted. Mat had always been your safety, your person. You could talk easily and feel close no matter how much time you spent apart, so how was it that you were never close even when he was home lately?

“We don’t talk though,” He pointed out, making you frown although you knew what he meant.

“We do,”

“You know it’s not the same,” He shook his head a little, biting his lip to bite back tears as he thought of a way to tell you what he needed without hurting you.

He couldn’t find one.

“But-“ You didn’t want to acknowledge how wrong things were. It was still okay, there were no big fights, things could all be fixed.

“Please don’t,” His voice was soft, apologetic for the words that were about to come out. “This isn’t working the way it used to,”

“It still works, I love you,” You couldn’t look away from his eyes, and Mat tried his best not to stare at the floor or somewhere else in the room. He could see the pieces of your heart falling apart one by one, and it was all his fault.

“I love you too, that will never change but… we can’t keep on going on like this,”

“Maty please,” Your voice cracked and your heart rate picked up from the panic that took over your body. His words had never scared you more than they did right this second.

“I’m sorry, you know I don’t want this anymore than you do,” His chest tightened, it killed him to see you like this. There was nothing he wanted more than to hug you, but it wouldn’t fix anything.

“Then don’t do it,” You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, barely bothering to wipe them away.

“I’ll be gone for a week, and I think it might be good for us to get a break,” He tried to soften the blow as well as he could. “Maybe we can just think about this for a bit rather than try to talk or whatever, and we can… we can have a conversation when I get back,”

“So what? We’re just going to ignore each other for a week until you come home and tell me you want to break up with me?” You took a step back when he tried to reach for your hand. The look of hurt that finally became obvious on his face was nothing compared to how much of a mess you already were.

“I don’t want to break up with you,”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re very sure about that,” Your chest shook with a single sob, forcing you to bite down on the inside of your cheeks.

His silence told you everything you needed to know.

It was suffocating.

Your eyes searched his for a sign that he still wanted you, but they lacked the spark they used to have whenever he looked at you.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” He eventually spoke up, his voice soft, like he was afraid anything he said could break you.

“I don’t want that either,” You were too shocked to say anything, the weight of his silence still hanging in the air.

“So let’s talk when I get back, okay?” He concluded before you could process anything else, completely numb and frozen on the spot.

“Okay,” You vaguely felt his lips brush over your forehead, and a second later the front door was falling shut behind him.

Calling in sick to work was your only option.

You could barely drag yourself out of your bed, let alone take a shower, get dressed and head to the office.

You didn’t receive a single text from Mat, not even when his flight landed. He always told you he had arrived safely. Always. Checking your phone for what felt the millionth time since you woke up made you sigh. The screen was still blank apart from a couple of notifications from your friends trying to make sure you were okay.

You weren’t, but they knew that already. They’d understand if you took ages to reply, so you kept on ignoring them as you buried your face in Mat’s pillow and shed some more tears.

How could he do this? How could he leave for a whole week and never want to talk to you? You were struggling not to call him with every second that passed, it consumed every bit of energy in your body, so how was he having fun with his friends and playing games at his best while you couldn’t even bring yourself to eat?

The only answer that came to you was something you never thought you would ever consider.

Mat didn’t love you anymore.

He fidgeted with his phone on the way back from the airport, wondering if you remembered what time he was supposed to land. He hoped you did, because he still didn’t text you. He had gotten plenty of time to himself, too much of it even, and if it wasn’t for the team keeping him busy he would have never made it through so many days of not talking to you.

He had made up his mind. It was easy once he was out of the apartment, all he had to do was imagine himself coming home. The only thing he wanted when he pictured that was you, and it told him everything he needed to know. No matter what was wrong lately, there was a way to make it better. You were the love of his life and he’d never give up.

Now all he had to do was come back to you and fix it.

“I’m back,” He called out after closing the door behind himself, leaving his bags down and listening carefully to see if you were home. You were always there to greet him, surely you had to be there.

You came into view a second later, dressed in leggings and an old concert t-shirt that was so worn out the band logo on it was almost gone. Your hair was messily pulled back, but the thing that hurt Mat the most was the look on your face.

He had seen you in plenty of messy, lazy outfits, but you were still always smiling. This was different. The bags under your eyes told him you hadn’t been sleeping, and you were so pale he worried you’d pass out right there in front of him.

His heart almost stopped knowing he caused this. He was the reason for your pain, and he needed to fix it.

“Can I hug you?” Mat stepped forward hesitantly, but you moved back and shook your head, tears already brimming in your eyes.

“I love you so much Mathew,” You wrapped your arms around yourself, not knowing where to start but with the way you felt.

“Hey, don’t-” He felt himself crumble at your broken tone. How could he have done this to you? How could he have left you thinking he’d ever want to break up with you?

“No, stop,” You sniffled, trying your hardest not to break into sobs. You had prepared yourself to say this in your head, but you couldn’t realise how much harder it would be once you were facing him. “I just- I don’t get where you stopped loving me,”

“I didn’t,” He replied instantly, his eyes widening and his heart sinking in his chest.

“That’s not true,”

“Why are you saying that?”

“Because this week has been the worst week of my life,” You clenched your fist so tightly your nails dug into your palm. The pain was grounding, it was always better than acknowledging the ache in your chest. “And you just went about it like it was fine,”

“I just needed some time to think,” The guilt was so overwhelming he felt sick in his stomach. You had never doubted his feelings for you before, he was always good at reassuring you, but he had ruined years of trust before leaving.

“I don’t need time to know how much I love you,”

“Love isn’t all you need to keep a relationship going,”

“Well, it sure as hell can’t keep going when you don’t have at least that,” You bit your tongue as you hinted to where this conversation was going.

It was the only way to make it right. If Mathew didn’t love you anymore you had to let him go.

“You don’t want this anymore,” His shoulders dropped and he had to catch himself against the door, ready to collapse. Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision.

“This is all I want. You’re all I want, but I can’t have that if you don’t want it as much as I do,”

“I don’t want to be without you,” He wiped his cheeks repeatedly, annoyed at the flood but unable to stop it. His voice trembled as he continued, short quick breaths making his chest shake. “I’m sorry I left like this, but we can work on this- I- I just got home… Just let me make this right,” He couldn’t bear the thought of being alone here, without you. You gave the place life, you gave him life. He had no home if he wasn’t with you, he couldn’t let you go like this.

“Mat… I’d go to the end of the world for you, I don’t even think you realise… I- it’s been so hard for me, I’ve had to keep up and deal with so much,” You couldn’t even begin to count the reasons you shouldn’t have gotten together in the first place, and Mat knew it too. There was a lot to sort out on both sides, but you had decided to ignore it all together to make it work no matter what. “It was all worth it to be with you, and I’d do it a million times again, but I’m not strong enough to do this if you can’t love me the way I love you,”

“I do love you,” He needed to repeat it a million times again, but you wouldn’t listen. Mat lip trembled as he thought he couldn’t even hold you to make it better.

“Not in the same way,”

“Don’t do this please,” He begged, knowing where he messed up but refusing to let it happen so easily. “How- how can you think I don’t love you?” He choked on his words. “After everything, I- I just-”

“You said it yourself, this isn’t working the way it used to,” The way you reused his words made him feel like you were stabbing him straight in the heart. This was all his fault, so why was there nothing he could say to make you believe he loved you?

“So we’re not even to try and talk about how we can fix it? I didn’t need to think about my feelings for you when I was away, I’ve always loved you, I love you, I-”

“There’s no way to fix this, look at us!” You interrupted and motioned between the two of you, the space that was there was unnatural. It was the first time he made it through the door and didn’t immediately cross the distance to hug you.

“I can’t lose you,”

“I’m sorry Mathew, I’ll… I’ll come get my stuff over the weekend,” You had already made plans to sleep somewhere else, but you didn’t have the heart to pack before he made it home.

“No,” He stayed in front of the door, shaking his head vehemently and clenching his jaw while you took a step closer to the exit. “You can’t do that!” His voice boomed through the apartment. You shrunk on yourself before he even realised what he had done. “Baby no,” His eyes widened in panic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I’m sorry,” He repeated, watching the tears flood your cheeks.

He left without reassuring you he still loved you, he let you think he wanted to break up with you, and just as he tried to fix it, he managed to break the most important promise he ever made to you.

“Let me go,” You sniffled, waiting for him to move.

Mat could do nothing but step aside.

+1.

Empty.

It was a fitting word for both the apartment and Mat.

He should have been happy to be home, but this place wasn’t it. He thought it would be for some time, but nowhere would ever feel like home unless you were there.

Dealing with you leaving had turned him into a wreck, so for some time Tito told him he should come live with him. It helped a little, he wasn’t as lonely and it stopped him from getting in his head.

He knew he’d have to come back eventually, Tito had his own life and Mat couldn’t constantly be in the middle of it.

Everything he was normally happy to find was missing. The plant on his coffee table was dead from the lack of water, and he thought it was a pretty good representation of how things were going for him lately.

He didn’t get to come home to you, he didn’t get a hug, he didn’t feel his heart flutter at the softness of your voice when you said you missed him, he didn’t feel your warmth or take in the sweet scent of your perfume.

Dropping his bags in the bedroom was torture.

The closet was open, showing off the empty half he couldn’t bring himself to start using. He remembered how he used to joke about being annoyed his shirts always ended up in your pile because you wore them so much.

The apartment was dead silent, it left plenty of room for Mat’s thoughts to take over his mind.

He missed you like hell. Every time he thought he was over it he turned around and got reminded of you by the smallest thing. Finding a hair tie under his bed felt like a slap in the face, a painful reminder of what used to be. Mat knew it probably ended up there after he took it out of your hair one night because he liked running his fingers through it as you both fell asleep, and his thoughts then moved on to the bed itself.

He could barely look at it, let alone sleep in it. The bedsheets no longer smelled like you although he still used the fabric softener you liked, your pillow remained untouched now that he was done crying into it, and Mat had to clench his jaw to keep tears at bay as he moved to the living room.

The soft red blanket you had bought to bring colour to the place was still on the couch. He slept with it when you left, and his pillow was still resting against the armrest. He almost considered moving for a moment, there were plenty of places to live in New York, he didn’t need to keep this apartment if he couldn’t even deal with standing in the bedroom anymore.

He knew it might help, but it wouldn’t fix anything. He’d have less reminders but just as many thoughts.

He’d never find a home without you.

I’m not 100% happy with how this one turned out but I don’t have a lot more energy to give it so I’m posting it anyway. Hope it was still okay to read for you guys, comments and feedback are always much appreciated.

Please reblog!

#mat barzal #writing #fluff #angst #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal fluff #mathew barzal angst #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #nhl imagine #nhl fic #isles13 #islanders

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moldy-mold · 3 years ago

Text

August Blog My life is out of my hands.

I’m embarrassed at how often I tell people “depends on the schedule” when I’m trying to make plans. When I can eat, when I can spend time with friends. I can’t even go to the grocery store or do laundry when I want to. My life is determined every Sunday when my bosses send out the schedules for the upcoming week. However, if I wanted to, I can make it all finally stop...

“It didn’t feel daring, it just felt like the right thing to do for myself. I feel the best when I am in control of my life.”

I was talking to someone who just quit their job and this is what they said. That really resonated with me.

After a year of failure, I am going to leave my design degree behind me to pursue something else entirely. I kept holding on because I didn’t want to “waste” what I learned in college. I may be a creative person, but I don’t need a creative job. I hate doing portfolio and I always have because the projects I actually loved were never “useful” enough to be put on display. Maybe that’s why I keep failing to get a job (that isn’t min wage). Maybe a design job is no longer applicable to the Moldy that exists at this very moment.

I don’t know if I’ll succeed where I’m headed, but I think it’s time I try. I remember being so optimistic at the beginning of the year! Now I’m just exhausted. There’s only so much I can take. T_T

Daily Routine August 2021 ver. My days are split between 4 routines. I no longer have a concept of weekdays or weekends because work days are scattered and change every week. Hours change too, but this is an average.

cafe days 10:00 am: wake up, read webtoons, skincare, brush teeth 11:00 am: yoga, water plants, make breakfast 12:00 pm: check email/social media 1:00pm: zestiria/drawing, freelance/commission 3:00 pm: make lunch, get ready for work 4:00 pm: work 10:00 pm: get home, shower 10:30 pm: eat dinner, watch chinese drama 11:00 pm: get ready for bed 11:30 pm: read webtoons/zestiria 2:00 am: sleep

office days 7:30 am: wake up, skincare, brush teeth 8:00 am: eat breakfast, check email/social media 9:00 am: work 3:00 pm: get home, eat lunch, water plants 4:00 pm: work out 5:00 pm: shower 6:00 pm: zestiria/drawing 8:00 pm: eat dinner 9:00 pm: get ready for bed 10:00 pm: zestiria/read webtoons 11:00 pm: watch anime with friends 1:00 am: sleep

rest days 11:00 am: wake up, read webtoons, skincare, brush teeth 12:00 pm: yoga, water plants, make breakfast, check email/social media 1:00 pm: walk in the park, think about my life and my choices 3:00 pm: stretching, shower, eat lunch 4:00 pm: zestiria/drawing/clean apartment 8:00 pm: eat dinner 9:00 pm: get ready for bed 10:00 pm: journal/read webtoons/zestiria 2:00 am: sleep

game days (once a week) 10:30: wake up, read webtoons, skincare, brush teeth 11:00 am: yoga, water plants, make breakfast 12:00 pm: go out and grab boba tea of choice 1:00 pm: tales of xillia 2 lunch and snacking all happen at some point during game hours 8:00 pm: shower 8:30 pm: eat dinner, watch a movie 11:00 pm: get ready for bed 11:30 pm: read webtoons/journal 2:00 am: sleep

Gaming My roommate and I started Tales of Xillia 2, my final Tales game. I find it to be a rather unusual Tales game because it doesn’t feel like I’m on a journey with a story unfolding. It’s more like I’m going through a chain of related side quests put together into a game. I like Ludger though, very relatable lol.

Now that I’ve finished Xenoblade, my new solo game is Zestiria NG+. With Berseria’s lore still fresh in my mind, I was curious about the connections between the two games. I’ll have to say that it is very satisfying to reverse-find the references made in Bersy. This time around, my best performing character is Mikleo. Human character of choice is Rose - I played Sorey the first time. You know, this game is pretty short for a Tales game imo. Like, once you do the trials, it’s not that much more until the game ends, especially if you’re not doing all the side content. I am doing them though since I am interested in the lore for research.

Finished Watching...

Demonslayer: Mugen Train ◆◆◇ How could they do that to me?

Tales of the Abyss Anime ◆◆◆ I felt like I watched a speed-run but they did a pretty good job.

Mystic Pop-Up Bar (kdrama) ◆◇◇ It was alright.

Perfect Blue ◆◆◆ Not for the faint of heart. I was definitely triggered by some scenes, but I really liked its execution and themes.

Resident Evil: Infinite Darkness ◆◇◇ Pros: it was very Resident Evil. Cons: it was very Resident Evil.

Masters of the Universe: Revelations ◆◆◇ I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. I am a fan of Skeletor now lol.

Projects I’m working on a Tales comic series (again) but it’s more Webtoons format instead of 4koma like I usually do. It will probably look best on Tumblr thanks to how vertical it is but I’ll have to settle for whatever it turns out to be for other platforms. I won’t reveal too much - it is my personal take on what happens to Rokurou post-game. Although I’ve been struggling to find time/energy, I hope I finish this one too.

Happy that people read Undercover! and liked it. It’s definitely... niche. So I didn’t expect it to do well. But hey, I can say I finished something for once.

As usual, thanks for being here.

#diary

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jamilelucato · 4 years ago

Note

hi!! I just followed and saw your open request for hp fics!! congrats btw!! I was wondering if you could write for me either a Fred Weasley x reader or Sirius Black x reader with Enemies to Lovers? If y/n could be a hufflepuff that'd be awesome too lol ❤️❤️ also I'm here for the banter + unresolved sexual tension 👁️👄👁️ thank you!!

Gryffies and Puffies [F. W.]

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: Fred and [y/N] were never close, in fact, they hated each other, but Angelina is determined to change that.

A/N: Hi! Thank you, really! I tried to follow your request as much as I could, sorry if the Hufflepuff portrait is not much Hufflepuff like, I’m not one and I don’t have many friends that are, but I tried to keep it as I knew. Hope you like it! (gif not mine)

Last chance to send a request! || Harry Potter Masterlist

Although, generally, [y/N] doesn’t bother doing her homework way earlier than needed, this time she knew she had to start soon if she wanted a good grade.

Professor Snape wasn’t very fond of the Hufflepuff’s students, so, as a proud member of her house, [y/N] felt like she had to prove the Professor wrong, and show the authoritarian how smart Hufflepuffs can be.

It was the third book she had got from the Library, and this one specifically was just about the subject — Ageing Potions — but [y/N] seemed more lost than before while reading it. Sh even asked, politely, to the Librarian if the book was in English because she couldn’t understand a full paragraph.

“Having trouble there?” asked Angelina Johnson before sitting down in the chair next to [y/N]’s.

[y/N] smiled at her long-time friend. Angelina’s mom was a great friend of [y/N]’s mom, and so, they grew up together, as a weird but cool duo. Angelina had a more explosive personality, when [y/N] was generally softer and prefered to talk instead of punching.

“A lot, actually,” [y/N] sighed. “Have you started yours yet?” the sixth-years Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors shared Snape’s classes, so [y/N] knew Angelina had the same assignment as her.

“Oh, haven’t even started,” answered Angelina, catching one of the books in front of them and flipping through it.

“Angie! Professor Snape already has something against you, don’t give him an extra to work with!” [y/N] retorted, genuinely worried for her friend.

Angelina chuckled. “By something against me, you mean because I sit with the twins?”

“Exactly!” the girls burst into soft laughter.

Angelina knew that [y/N] was out for the Weasley twins ever since third-year when they painted the whole Hufflepuff common room black for one week. Professor Flitwick had to step in to help get rid of the magical paint.

But that wasn’t just it. It seemed as if whenever [y/N] got into trouble, the twins, and more specifically, Fred Weasley, was around.

“So... Hogsmeade this weekend. You comin’?” asked Angelina when the laughter calmed down.

“Nope, got this to finish,” [y/N] sighed, pointing to the parchment blank. “Or gotta start it.”

Angelina protested, “come on, you never come!”

“With you, I don’t!” [y/N] frowned. “You always bring them!”

“They’re my best friends!”

“Ouch,” [y/N] pretended to be offended, but only gained a shove from Angie before her best friend started laughing again. Those two were always laughing.

“I promise they’ll behave,” Angie sparkled her dark brown eyes towards [y/N], and seeing a pit face, [y/N] knew she had lost.

“Fine,” the Hufflepuff agreed, closing the books in front of them, knowing very well that no preparation in the world would make her homework worthy of a good grade in Snape’s eyes. “But you owe me one.”

“Put it on the account,” smiled Angie.

***

“Here she comes, the Hufflepuff princess,” smirked an inpatient Fred Weasley, watching with a brow raised as [y/N] finally got out of the train.

Without staring the identical redheads, [y/N] apologized to Angelina, “sorry, got stuck with Bryan and Clary, they were tellin’ me about the...”

“No one cares, puffie,” Fred whispered, in a voice that sounded almost like a whistle.

“Shut it, Weasley,” [y/N] warned, with a tired look. If her visit to Hogsmeade was going to be like that, she did not know if she’d be able to honour the motto of kindness and forgiveness of her Hogwarts House.

“Oh, she acknowledges I’m here,” Fred smirked again, “finally.”

[y/N] rolled her eyes, wrapping her arm around Angelina’s, while she murmured apologies. The two girls took the lead, while the twins followed, and [y/N] could swear that every announced turn she and Angie decided to take, she could hear Fred sighing in complain — and she was loving that.

“First stop: Honeydukes!” [y/N] shouted, stating the way.

Angelina stopped when she noticed Fred had stopped too.

“No way — Zonko’s first,” he debated.

[y/N] turned around, facing the redhaired boy — really facing him, like she had not done yet. She sometimes forgot how cute he was.

Well, any boy taller than her, she considered cute really, because she loved how they leaned down to look at her — and Fred had a lot of leaning down to do.

“Honeydukes,” [y/N] said, hoping her voice sounded as scary as Professor Snape because he was the one she was trying to imitate.

“Look, you can eat later, puffie, but the good products will sell out if George and I don’t go to Zonko’s now,” he continued his pledge.

“You two go then — I’m going Honeydukes first,” [y/N] was trying her hardest to stand her point, but when Angelina and George puffed next to them, she lost a bit of her posture.

“You expect George and I will let you two girls walk around alone?”

“I don’t need a bodyguard!” [y/N] shouted, crossing her arms.

“If that’s supposed to be your scare-people-away face, then yes, you need bodyguards,” Fred argued.

“Let’s go to Zonko’s first, y/N. It’ll give less time for the chocolates to melt,” Angelina stepped in the argument, knowing that the two would continue to argue all day if they could. In fact, Angelina had already witnessed them arguing two whole hours about which team was better at Quidditch — and it seemed to be horrible to [y/N] offend Angelina as a player just to win the argument.

Puffing the whole way and not daring to face Fred, [y/N] followed them to Zonko’s. It was easier to avoid looking at him when the boys entered the store (already crowded) and got lost from the girls in the middle of the shelves, their eyes shining with new and classic products.

Taking advantage of the momentary peace, [y/N] wandered around the store, looking for something that could be used for good fun, like some board game. She didn’t realize that Fred was right behind her until he opened his mouth.

His voice a whisper so close to her ear, that it shivered all over her: “you should buy it if you can’t stop staring,” he smirked.

She turned around to face the boy way too close than she expected. Trying to step away, she bumped into the shelve, but fortunately, nothing fell.

“I don’t want a stupid...” [y/N] battled with herself if she should say or not the next word, “furry bear,” she ended up saying because she hated leaving phrases unfinished.

“Yeah, okay,” Fred pretended to believe, puffing his chest.

“I don’t,” [y/N] stated again.

“Sure, if you say so,” he continued his little game.

“Just because Hufflepuffs are kind, it does not mean we like all cute and fluffy and soft things, okay,” [y/N] tried to prove her point using of more complex sentences, but noticing his smile, she thought she only contradicted herself.

“Not all Hufflepuffs are the same,” Fred tried to help her.

“Exactly,” [y/N] crossed her arms.

“But you like the fluffy and plushy,” Fred raised an eyebrow, but he did not look into her eyes.

“Yes,” [y/] agreed, before even realizing what she was saying yes to. She only had time to listen to Fred burst into laughter, she could no longer take back what she said.

But for a second, it didn’t matter; his laugh was worth it. Until it wasn’t.

“So you like plushy, huh,” he repeated non-stop.

“Oh, for Helga’s sake,” [y/N] she puffed, desperately trying to get away from the ginger boy.

***

When the boys had finally bought all they wanted from Zonko’s, [y/N] and Angelina were already outside waiting. There weren’t many things that the girls founded interesting there. Angelina favours Quidditch stuff and, [y/N], as pointed out by Fred himself, prefers fluffy things.

“That took a while,” you pretended to whisper when actually you spoke loud enough for the twins to hear.

“Oh, did we make you wait, puffie?” Fred teased, but [y/N] just rolled her eyes, not ready to fall into his traps again.

“Well, for fairness, it’s you girls’ time to pick a place,” George said, and [y/N] involuntarily smiled at the more delicate Weasley twin.

“Honeydukes!!” [y/N] shouted before Angelina could say anything, but it didn’t matter. The three Gryffindors immediately started giggling at the girl’s excitement to visit the candy store.

Angelina and George got themselves involved in a talk about the new best broom in the market, leaving Fred and [y/N] behind. They both played Quidditch too, but George and Angie made no effort to include them in the conversation.

“See,” [y/N] decided to tease Fred since they were closest, “if we had gone to Honeydukes first, you wouldn’t need to carry those many bags around.”

Fred almost forgot how to walk. He was generally the one that started the teasing — [y/N] wasn’t much of the provocative kind unless she was provoked. However, Fred liked it.

“You would be the one carrying the bags then, genius,” Fred pointed out, turning his face sightless to the right to get a glimpse of her reaction.

“How many sweets do you think I’m buying?” she asked, analyzing the three plastic bags in his left hand and the two others in his right one. She compared it to the three chocolate bars and a couple of chocolate frogs she had in mind, and she was sure it would be just one bag.

Fred shrugged, letting out a soft chuckled. [y/N] might have had a point, but he was not going to admit it.

When they finally arrived at the candy shop, Fred lost sight of [y/N] because she fastly ran inside. Angelina entered the shop too, but George and Fred had so many bags they were afraid to walk in, so they decided to take turns inside.

Fred went in first, excited to see how [y/N] would be in her environment, but he didn’t like what he saw. As soon as he walked in, he saw her in a corner on the left-back, surrounded by some boys. At that distance, Fred would not guess they were Hufflepuffs.

His first instinct was to suppose she was in danger, but then she laughed. Really laughed, in the sweetest way possible, in a way she had never laughed to his jokes.

He knew she was alright, but he wasn’t. He rushed out of the store, surprising George.

“Back so soon?” George asked.

Fred was not in the mood to tell his twin that might have caught feelings for a certain uneasy girl, so he lied.

“Yeah, had no money left. I mean, if I still want a butterbeer,” Fred said, shrugging and taking his brother’s place as the guard of their Zonko’s products.

George said no more, glad to have the chance to buy something sweet for himself. In the middle of the night, after running around with Fred, George loved having a chocolate frog to recharge his energies.

“Next stop,” said Angelina, once the three got out of the candy store, “Three Broomsticks.”

Everybody agreed with ununderstanding whispers. [y/N], as she planned, got out of Honeydukes with only one plastic bag, that she teasingly raised towards Fred, who rolled his eyes, with a troubled expression.

His reaction wasn’t the one [y/N] was anticipating. She wanted him to make a quick remark, mess with her bad eating habits, anything like that. But ignore a clear chance to mess with her — she did not expect that.

She rushed to Angie’s side, happy to get a chance to gossip with her best girl about what the boys she had met in the shop had just told her.

“So, Luke told me that Cormac McLaggen is chasing after your friend Alicia, is that true?” [y/N] asked.

Angelina turned her face to her best friend, confused with such a question. Not that the two never gossip before, but [y/N]’s tone was generally less invasive and judge than this.

“Why? Are you interested?” Angie asked, raising a brow.

[y/N] almost choked.

“Interested? Me?” she puffed. “Please.”

Behind the girls, one of the twins was paying very close attention to the conversation.

“He’s not really your type, is he?”

“I’m not interested in him,” [y/N] debated. “I could be, but I ain’t.”

Angie turned her face to the front again before pulling the door of the Three Broomsticks. The four got in, and George was looking around for an empty table when [y/N] asked: “what are you guys taking?”

“Butterbeer,” the three Gryffindors answered together, causing the girl to smile at their synchronization.

“I’ll get it; you go sit down,” she was actually being nice because, of all of them, she was the one with fewer bags.

Being friends with Madam Rosmerta had its privileges, such as [y/N] was first attended as soon as she reached the counter.

“Hey, Madam Rosmerta! How’s it goin’?” [y/N] asked, working extra hard her charm. The whole counter was staring at her, half angry, half not believing, that she was being served before them.

When the woman finally gave [y/N] her drinks, she headed to the table her friends had picked, noticing with an exhalation that the only chair left was in the middle of Fred and George.

“That was fast,” pointed out George, getting his butterbeer with a smile and tossing you a sickle.

“No need, it’s on me,” [y/N] said, giving George his coin back. “Actually on Rosmerta, but that’s supposably to be a secret.”

Angelina smiled, reaching for her cup and savouring the butterbeer as if it was more tasteful because it had been free.

Fred looked at you without exactly turning but grabbed his drink anyway.

“Thanks,” he whispered, this time Fred’s tone had no sign of banter.

[y/N] was scared they would remain in that dreadful silence, bt Angelina took her chance to tell everyone about her father’s newest accomplishment and how it would affect them — he had a bought a summer house near the beach. She was sure he would allow her to bring them for a weekend.

“Wow, Angie, count me in! Would love beach day!” [y/N] beamed.

Angelina chuckled. “I’ll see if we can go next holiday.”

The whole table cheered in excitement, and George was so happy that he decided to buy them the next round of butterbeer.

When the day in Hogsmeade was over, [y/N] and Fred got back to their usual bickering. George knew that would happen, but Angie was, in fact, hoping for them to finally develop a real friendship, better than the day to day teasing.

Days and months went by. [y/N] ended up getting the better side of Professor Snape, after all — he said her essay was the best one from that class.

Angelina kept trying to connect Fred and [y/N], but it was like she was running from him. Fred seemed neutral about it all, and that was a first.

“So my father got back to me...” Angelina started telling the twins as soon as the Quidditch practice was over.

“And?” George was genuinely enthusiastic.

“And we can go for the Easter holiday!” cheered Angelina. “Unless your mom doesn’t allow you to come...”

“Molly will be pleased to have two less in the house,” admitted George.

“Is [y/N] coming?” Fred asked, raising his voice so he could be heard since he was in the back of the tent.

Angelina exchanged looks with George before answering, scared that he wouldn’t like her answer. “Yes, she is, and I hope you behave.”

“Are you saying that to her?” Fred retorted.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t the one who messes with her,” Angelina tilted her head towards Fred, who just shrugged, puffing as if he was innocent. “Well, gonna invite Alicia and Katie. See you later.”

***

Part of [y/N] wondered why she had said yes. Sure, Angelina Johnson was her best friend of all times, but still, as her father drove you two to the beach house, all she could think of was that it would be a house filled with Gryffindors and she would be the only outsider.

She wasn’t friends with the others. She could become friends with Alicia and Katia, she guessed, and George was somewhat of a colleague, but Fred? Oh, Helga, she signed in for a nightmare.

Since the Hogsmeade trip a couple of months ago, things without explanation kept on happening with [y/n] more often than before. Clothes coloured in bright pink, her cat turning in with two tails instead of just one, and she even received letters with nothing written on — those were the most confusing of the pranks. Again, she was almost sure it was Fred’s fault, but since the pranks were harmless, she never confronted him about them.

Angelina and [y/N] had time to settle themselves down in a room just for the two — Katie and Alicia were getting another one, and Fred and George the one far most at the end of the corridor.

When the six kids were all together, things started getting, well, exciting. There was no way Fred and George were going to let that trip be a bore.

Without parents around, you six stayed on the beach until 4 a.m, watching the sun rising far away. Alicia had brought some firewhisky, but since it was only two bottles, the group decided to save for later.

When [y/N] woke up on the second day, she found herself lying in a mattress-shaped floater, tossed in the middle of the pool.

“WEASLEYS!!” she shouted, waking the whole house up.

With no wand around, [y/N] had no option but to jump in the pool and swim to get out of there. When she managed to cross half of the backyard, Fred and George appeared at the door, and you took a glimpse inside the house, where the girls ate breakfast like nothing was happening to [y/N].

“Morning-swim, huh?” Fred crossed his arms, smirking slightly.

“You’ll pay for that, Fred,” she replied, shaking, the coldness of the water that soaked her combined with the wind of the beach was not doing her good.

“Cute pyjamas, puffie” he continued teasing as she passed him by — his eyes following her back as she went upstairs. The nickname was not something she was quite fond of, especially because she knew he used it just because of her house.

George nudged his twin. “Don’t ask why she doesn’t like you,” George said, leaving his brother at the door and sitting down next to Alicia.

“What? You helped,” pointed down Fred, sitting too.

“Yeah, but she likes me,” George raised a brow, his confident expression did not even shake at the dark look his twin cast.

*** When the night came, [y/N] was sure she had gotten a tan, but after she got in the shower and took a good look in front of the mirror, it was like the tan was gone. She wasn’t hurt, though, so it wasn’t all bad.

Getting downstairs, she noticed that the group hadn’t been able to keep themselves away from the firewhisky any longer, because the only two bottles were displayed in the middle of the table set outside in the backyard.

[y/N]’s white dress was practically sparkling in the dim light of outside, and for a minute, Fred was out of breath, staring at her in a way he had never before.

Well, actually... Never before since they arrived. But Fred was not gonna mention the other thousand times she left him breathless by her looks.

“Where’s Angie?” [y/N] asked before sitting down, noticing that her bestie was the only one left.

“Still showering. Angie says she can feel the sand everywhere yet,” explained Katie.

“And who’s to blame...” [y/N] wondered aloud, trying to provoke the twins who had been fighting everyone in the sand earlier.

Even though Fred teased her the whole afternoon — how she would never win him in the fight, how she was laze, how he was fast — she didn’t give in, preferring to get sunbathed. It didn’t work though, but at least she didn’t have sand in all weird places now.

Angie finally got outside, wearing a beautiful set of shorts and a floral blouse.

“Let’s start the game, come on, I really need it,” she said, and the whole table agreed.

They played an updated version of beer pong, the muggle game, and [y/N] was losing badly to everyone else. That meant that she was the one drinking more, and, for Helga, she was not used to it, but with time, the effects seemed to disappear.

When the game was over, [y/N] had been sitting for minutes at the edge of the pool, wetting only her feet. There was a cup of firewhisky in her hands, but even if not drunk, she knew she shouldn’t keep drinking it.

Someone found a way to play muggle music, and Angelina, Alicia, Katie and George were having the time of their lives in the improvised dance floor.

Fred was walking, as silently as he could, towards [y/N]. He wasn’t very fond of the music playing, and he wasn’t as drunk as the others. Generally, he would have pretended to be, like George was doing, just for the fun of it, but watching [y/N] all alone, he knew he had to something about her.

“Hey,” she smiled softly, noticing the boy sitting down next to her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, but she never answered. She put the cup down though — Fred thought that was a good sign. “I’m sorry about the pool earlier.”

[y/N] stared back at him, this time trying to analyze every aspect of his face. Like how he had moe freckles on his left cheek then the right. How his nose was big but yet perfectly pleasant to look at. How he was leaning towards her even though he wasn’t noticing. But she did. And she leaned in too.

“You know, if you wanted my attention, there were other ways to get it,” she said, surprising herself with the bravery to speak up.

Fred froze.

“You could have apologized to my cat, that would’ve been nice, for starters,” she said, this time surprising him, who laughed it off.

“He didn’t like the extra tail?”

“He actually did,” she joined him in the laughter, remembering her pet playing with a smile in her dorm room because he now had two tails. “Hey, how did you found out that he was my cat and not any other?”

Fred smiled in the dim light.

“He was the fluffiest,” was his answer. [y/N] elbowed him, pretending to be angry, but she knew that, unfortunately, her cat was the furriest cat Hogwarts had ever seen.

After a moment of silence, [y/N] decided she better get back to her room — and she hoped this time she would wake up there too. Getting up without warning, she ended up scaring Fred.

“Where are you going?” he asked, getting up too.

“Back to bed,” she said. “Better get a good night sleep before tomorrow — it is our last day after all.”

Fred wrinkled his nose. He knew she was right, but he also knew that it was his last chance to do something with her, at least, under the spark of the moon.

But she seemed so far away...

“Well, at least let me accompany you,” Fred offered [y/N] his arm, which she took with a smile.

They walked in silence — the rest of the group didn’t even notice they were gone.

[y/N] was about to get to her room when Fred stopped her.

“Wait,” he was confused whether it was the best time or not, but it was his only time so... “wait here, I’m gonna grab something for you.”

He walked to the end of the corridor, rushing to his room. Fred was rummaging through his suitcase, looking for what he wanted to give her.

[y/N] waited patiently — and quite anxiously — for whatever Fred was going to give her.

“Here, ” he said, giving her something he had hidden in his back. [y/N] grabbed from his hands, surprised with the texture of what she got. “I don’t know if Angelina ever mentioned me and my brother want to open a joke shop, and well, this product... You kinda inspired me to do it.”

She studied the hairy, yellow ball in her hands. Thankfully, she held it gently, because when she turned the thing over, she noticed that two little blue eyes were staring at her, startled.

“Oh my Helga, Freddie, is this alive?” she asked, but the answer didn’t really matter because she was already petting the small furry ball.

“It’s she, actually,” he smiled, noticing how happy she was with the gift. “Has no name, though.”

“What is she?” she asked while playing with the pet, noticing she was warming up to [y/N]’s touch.

“George and I named it Pygmy Puff — a miniature Puffskein,” Fred explained, petting the furry ball too. “They are generally pink or purple, so yours was made with a lot of care.”

[y/N] looked up from the yellow Pygmy Puff to Fred and tilted her head, uncontrollably smiling.

“Guess the Pygmy Puff has something to do with me too,” [y/N] teased.

“The whole thing has something to do with you,” Fred let out, blushing immediately, but [y/N] didn’t notice. Fred fake-coughed. “So, what will you name her?”

[y/N] thought about it for a while. “I guess it would only make sense if she was named Gryffie. After all, her creator is a Gryffindor,” [y/N] blushed but avoided looking at Fred, focusing solemnly in the Pygmy Puff.

“It makes sense,” Fred looked from the pet to the girl and bit his inner cheek. “Two houses come together for an invention.”

“That’s the Hogwarts spirit,” [y/N] laughed it off. “Thank you, Fred,” she said before leaning on tiptoes to place a kiss on Fred’s cheek.

The Pygmy Puff enjoyed the time with no attention and walked from [y/N]’s hand to her shoulder, and Fred stared at the fluffy thing while [y/N] kissed him.

And somehow it felt like the pet was trying to say something.

[y/N] stepped away and said good-night, entering her room with a sad look. She didn’t want the night to end. So, after placing Gryffie on the bed, she turned to the door, ready to open it again. But Fred was faster.

They stared for a full second before both rushed towards each other, locking their lips in a soft but potent kiss.

Fred’s hands found her waist and pulled her closer, as closer as Fred could — close as he always wished she was. [y/N], of course, ran her fingers through his hair, something she had been wanting to do for a while now, and she was glad to find such fluffy and soft hair.

They were breathless, but neither wanted to pull away. Fred leaned to her neck, finding her sensitive spot right away, and there was nothing better than hearing her moan so close to his ear.

Behind them, the Pygmy Puff made some sound weird, but they just laughed it off and pulled each other closer again, as if they could be closer than they were.

The Pygmy Puff cried again, and this time non-stop, so [y/N] had to pull away. She was the mother of that pet for only a couple of minutes, but she was very protective over it already.

“What is it?” she murmured towards the fluffy ball at the same time Fred cleared his throat, making [y/N] turn to Fred again, who was looking at the stairs.

“Hi, little love birds,” giggled a very drunk Angelina.

Fred and [y/N] were instantly red, from head to toes, but Angelina and the rest of the group didn’t even care, they just couldn’t giggling and bumping into each other.

“Hey, George, I think I’ll better sleep in your room,” Angelina spoke again. “I believe you’ll have an empty bed.”

“Good idea,” George said, locking arms with Angelina to protect her from falling — she could do it at any moment now. “Good-night, love birds. Or should I say love puffs?”

The four teenagers were laughing out loud, they could wake someone up if only someone were sleeping. George and Angie closed their door as soon as they walked in and winking at [y/N] and Fred, Alicia closed the door of hers and Katie’s room.

“Well, I guess I just lost my bed, puffie” Fred sighed, pretending to be upset, leaning on the door frame.

His eyes sparkled in the dim light of her room. [y/N] smirked, pulling him by his collar, suddenly very aware of her Femme Fatale powers.

“Good thing I have an extra one here,” she said, kissing him again, and again, and again...

#fred weasley #Fred and George #Fred and George Weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff #pygmy puff #gryffindor #hufflepuff #fred and george imagine #fred imagine #angelina johnson #george weasley

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sunkissedspider · 4 years ago

Text

You Do? | Tom Holland

MASTERLIST

***taglist is open!!! just send an ask or message me and i’ll add you :)***

***requests are open!!! just send an ask or message me your request if you have one :)***

pairing: university!Tom Holland x university!reader

summary: even though you and Tom were roommates, you didn't have a relationship outside of that, but what happens when you tell him that you have feelings for him, and what happens when he gets jealous?

warnings: angst, Tom kinda being a douche for a lot of this lol, smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), making out, language, fluff, etc.

listen to: Let’s Fall in Love for the Night - FINNEAS (it doesn't work perfectly for this, but i love that song lol)

word count: 4.4k+

a/n: thank you so much @spideysquackson13 for requesting this, this was so much fun to write. plus, i'm a sucker for frat Tom/Peter lol. i hope i did your idea some justice :) sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!!

"Come on, just tell him!" Melissa, your study partner and close friend, said, chuckling quietly as you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"Why the hell would I do that, Mel? It's not like he's gonna feel the same way." You laughed, trying your best brush off the subject.

"But he might, you never know." She shrugged, taking a sip of water as she looked around the courtyard from your spot underneath one of the large trees.

"It's Tom. He's not gonna feel the same way about me, I barely even talk to him, to be totally honest with you."

"He's your roommate... how do you barely talk to him?" She asked, confusion prominent on her face and in her voice.

"He's usually in his room, or at a party, or..." You droned, not wanting to finish your sentence.

"Or fucking some girl that isn't you?" She said, finishing your sentence with a smirk on her face when she saw how your jaw clenched slightly.

"Yes, Melissa, fucking some girl that isn't me." You said through gritted teeth, trying your best to not get too upset.

"How long ago did you last have sex, anyway?"

"Uhm," You said, closing your eyes in thought as you exhaled, trying your best to sift through your mind as quickly as possible. "Six months?" You said, the answer coming out as more of a question.

"Six months?!" Melissa yelled, most of the people outside near you two whipping their heads around to look at the both of you.

"Yes, Mel, six months, and will you please quiet down?" You said, trying your best to cover your face with your notebook.

"Who was it with? I don't even remember if you were dating someone six months ago." Melissa asked, the both if you waving to some of your fellow classmates that walked past you.

"Well, I wasn't dating him... Uh, do you remember Carl? We both had him in our fourth lecture... Brown hair, brown eyes-" You started.

"Oh! Yeah! The guy that... looks like Tom." She stated, looking at you with piercing eyes, silently telling you to get over yourself and to just confess your feelings to him already.

"Ha ha." You say in a monotone voice. "I was just horny and he was nice and hot, so he and I fucked. It... wasn't the best. I mean, I only kinda got off. But, whenever I hear the girls that Tom brings home through the walls... holy shit. Goddammit, why can I just fucking tell him? He and I are barley even friends, it's not like I'd be risking anything." You say, cursing yourself for being so stubborn with your feelings.

"Honestly, love, I don't know what to tell you. You seem pretty fucking infatuated with the guy. I would just tell him. Just to get it over with and so that I could stop worrying about it." She smiles, before standing up. "I'll see you later, okay? I've got a date." And with that, you're waving her goodbye, your eyes wandering the courtyard from your spot underneath the tree, eyes eventually landing on Tom's.

"Shit!" You mutter under your breath, quickly putting your belongings into your messenger bag, standing up and quickly walking to your car, trying your best not to connect eyes with him again.

You're practically speechless whenever you're around him, and you really didn't want to act like an idiot right now, especially with the fact that Tom was surrounded with his friends and... girls.

"Fucking perfect," You think, your cheeks not only temporarily stained red with embarrassment, but with anger over the fact that you had fallen for such a player that very obviously had no interest in you.

***

"Hey, uh, Y/N?" Tom asks, tapping your shoulder as he walks into your shared kitchen.

"Y-yeah?" You stutter, taking your earbuds out, pausing your music to give him your full attention.

"You're fine if we throw a party here sometime this weekend, right? It'll be... small. Just a few friends and some beer, at the most." He lies, knowing that at least 80 people would be flowing through your shared house and backyard.

"Oh, yeah. That's fine." You smiled, trying your best to hide your blush from Tom.

"Alright." He smiles, turning to walk away.

"Actually," You start, getting Tom's attention, causing him to turn towards you. "Can I tell you something?"

"Yeah, sure," He smiles, taking a seat next to you on one of the other bar stools. "What's up?" He asks, his eyes locking with yours.

"Well, I..." You start, rubbing one of your hands onto the neck of your neck as you let out a few nervous chuckles. "I kinda... have a crush on you? God, I sound like a little kid. And I'm not expecting you to feel the same way or anything, but I felt like I should tell you." You rush out, not meeting his eyes until you hear a burst of laughter.

You turn your head to look at Tom, and he's doubled over, laughing his ass off at your confession. "Oh, Jesus Christ. Oh my God. Fuck, that's funny." He says, wiping a tear caused by laughter from his cheek, meeting your eyes. "Wow, Y/N L/N has a crush on me? I feel so honored." He says with a sarcastic, mocked out version of shock and surprise in his voice, before standing up, grabbing his beer before walking upstairs to his bedroom.

***

"You told him?!" Melissa asks, shock evident in her voice as you sit across from her, sipping on your whiskey, trying to forget how embarrassed you were.

"Yes, and I fucking regret it so much." You say, slamming your head onto the surface of the table at your and Melissa's favorite pub to go to together... which just so happens to be Tom's favorite pub to pick up chicks at.

"Okay, don't freak out and don't look behind you, but Tom just walked in here." She says, her voice low, trying to go undetected by Tom.

"What?!" You ask, your head immediately whipping around, eyes meeting with Tom's almost instantly, the smug grin on his face growing even wider when you blush heavily.

"I said not to look!" Melissa scolded, bringing your attention back to her.

"What did you expect me to do? If you tell me not to look, I'm obviously going to look!" You say, downing your drink before grabbing your bag and standing up.

"Where are we going?" Melissa asks, standing up and grabbing her bag as well.

"Fucking anywhere, Mel. I don't wanna be around him."

***

"You're still having the party, right?" Melissa asks, sitting down at your desk, playing around with your makeup as you sit on your bed, doodling mindlessly on the blank parts of your notes, not studying like how you originally wanted to.

"Yeah, I guess." You say, looking around your room, the sunset bearing slightly through your curtains, washing the room in a slightly orange tint.

"Wouldn't it be tonight, then?" She asks, Turing slowly to look at you, a devious grin on her face.

"Yeah... it's Friday, isn't it?" You ask, looking up at her.

"Why the fuck are we not getting ready, then?!" She asks loudly, standing up and walking over to your bed, sitting down next to you as she looks at you with excitement and wonder.

"I don't really feel like partying tonight, Mel. Plus, I don't wanna be around Tom. I haven't talked to him since Wednesday." You shrug, groaning loudly when Melissa pulls you to your feet.

"We're fucking partying tonight, love." She says, looking at you, a small smirk coming to up to your lips, knowing that you'll end up having a blast tonight since Melissa alway brings out the more confident side of you. "You're gonna go get a shower, shave everything... you never know what might... happen." She winks, smiling widely at you before continuing. "I'm gonna go grab some more outfits and makeup from my place in case we can't find anything you wanna wear in your closet, were gonna put on some bomb makeup, and then, hopefully, get laid tonight... God knows that you at least need it." She laughs, teasing you lightly.

"All right... Okay, all right, I can do this. This is gonna be fun." You smile at her before she grabs her bag, blowing a kiss at you before leaving through your door.

***

"What about this?" You ask, turning around to show Melissa one of your outfit choices.

"In the nicest way possible, love... You look like my gran." Melissa smiles, trying her best to stifle a few giggles.

"Ugh, rude!" You say, a fake shocked look on your face, both of you laughing loudly.

"What about... this?" She says after thinking for a few moments, moving to pick up a black tube top, black bralette, and high waisted shorts.

"Only if I can wear sneakers with it. If I'm gonna be drunk, lord knows I won't be able to walk in heels." You laugh, Melissa playfully rolling her eyes.

"Fine, but only because I love you... and I think it'll look super cute." She laughs, handing you the outfit and some high top Converse.

After both of you and Melissa get dressed and get your makeup on, you both walk downstairs, and see that the supposedly "small" party is in full swing.

People are in the corners making out, half full red solo cups are sprinkled all around the kitchen and living room, beer kegs placed strategically everywhere... and that's not even the end of it. The party ends up being even crazier outside; a trail of people leading out of the back door, the pingpong table being used by different people for various games, splashes of water coming out of the pool as people jumped in, and there was Tom. Right in the thick of it.

"Melissa, I don't know if this is a good idea." You said, turning to see her smiling and waving over to a group of guys, one of them being Jeremy, a guy that she had been seeing for a while.

"Uh, you've met Harrison, right?" She asks, looking around for him.

"Kind of? I mean, I've seen him around the house and stuff, and I know that I have biology with him, but I don't-" You say, soon getting interrupted by Melissa as she starts to shove you over to him.

"Just go say 'Hi'! Whats the worst that could happen?" She asks, a big smile on her face when she sees how horrified you look.

"He could hear me!" You answer, causing a loud laugh to leave her lips, before she blows you a kiss, turning around to walk to Jeremy.

"Okay," You say quietly under your breath. "Nothing bad is gonna happen... He's only beautiful and best friends with the guy that you can't stop thinking about, but you'll be fine."

"Hi." You say, walking over to stand by Harrison, his eyes meeting yours as he smiles, a red solo cup in his hand.

"Hi," He smiles, eyes widening a bit when he sees your outfit. "You're Y/N, right?"

"Yeah," You breathe out, trying your best to relax next to him. Your breath hitches slightly when you see Tom walk by you, his jaw clenched tightly in anger, but you honestly didn't even want to know what he was upset about

***

"Oh, shit! I'm sorry, do you want a drink? I forgot to ask earlier, you're just really fun to talk to." Harrison says, smiling at you as he sits up from his spot beside the pool.

"Oh, it's fine. I can go get one." You say, standing up before making your way over to one of the beer kegs that Tom happened to be at.

"Hey, Tom," You say, leaning over towards him to get his attention. "Can you grab me a beer?"

"Grab your own fucking beer." He says, smiling so sickly sweetly that it makes your teeth hurt.

"What's wrong-"

"It's nothing." He dismisses, getting ready to walk away before you place a hand on his arm, stopping him from walking away.

"What's wrong, Tom?" You ask, concern in your voice as you look at him straight in his big, brown eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it. And even if I did, I wouldn't talk about it with you. You're not my fucking friend, Y/N L/N. You'll never be my friend. You're just my roommate. So just leave me the fuck alone." He says, his voice stern, ripping his arm from your grip, putting on a smile as he walked over to his friends, laughing loudly at a joke that someone had made.

"What was that all about?" Melissa asks, standing net to you, handing you a beer as you both look at Tom.

"I don't... I don't fucking know. You know what? I don't fucking care. I'm just gonna go talk to Harrison and get drunk." You say, causing Melissa to laugh as you walk over to Haz.

***

"So, how long have you and Tom lived together?" Harrison asks you as you both walked around, far enough away from the party so that you probably wouldn't be interrupted.

"Uhm, since the beginning of this term." You say, looking into his blue eyes as you continue walking.

"Why do you live with him if you guys don't get along?" He asks, turning to stand and look at you, the moonlight shadowing over his face.

"What do you mean?" You ask, turning to look around the sky that outlines his figure.

"I saw you guys fighting at the party... Tom can be a proper arsehole at times." He chuckles, causing you to laugh.

"He really can be." You breathe out, your eyes meeting with his blue ones.

"Can I kiss you?" Harrison asks, one of his hands softly going over your neck, the other resting on one of your hips.

"Okay..." You manage to squeak out, eyes closing as Harrison dips his head down to your lips.

You lips are that close to each others, until you hear a laugh... Tom's laugh, and you get interrupted.

"What... the... fuck is going on here?" Tom says, laughing loudly at how you and Harrison look. Your eyes are wide in shock, and Harrison is just angry, his jaw clenched tightly as his hand still rests softly on one side of your neck.

"What do you want, Tom?" Harrison asks, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Oh, nothing... Just making sure you two weren't banging it out in our garden." Tom says, chuckling lightly.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Harrison says, leaning in close to you.

"Don't worry about it, it's fine." You smile, walking away from the two boys, meeting Melissa by the pool.

"What happened?" She asks, laughing at how your eyes are still blown wide.

"Well, uh, Harrison and I almost kissed, and then Tom walked over and started being dickhead again, so, uhm, now I'm here." You say before downing a beer from a red solo cup that she had handed you, knowing beforehand that you'd definitely have a horrible hangover tomorrow if you kept drinking like you were.

***

"So, he still won't talk to you?" Melissa asks, her eyes meeting with Harrison's as they listened to you talk about how Tom had been avoiding you ever since the party.

"Not at all. Not even a 'Hi' when I pass him in the kitchen. It's been a fucking week. I just don't understand why he's so mad." You say, your head banging onto the table of the coffee shop you were in as you let out a quiet groan.

"He may be my best friend, but I'll never understand him. I mean, nothing even happened between you and me, we were drunk, shit happens. We didn't even kiss, but now he's all pissed off at you and me." Harrison says, his crystal blue eyes looking even bluer when paired with his tight black t-shirt.

"At least he still talks to you." You say, lifting your head up to meet his eyes.

"Yeah, true. I just... I don't know what to tell you, to be honest. He's acting like a little kid." Harrison says, causing Melissa to laugh quietly.

"Maybe just try talking to him? It might work, but we all know that guys are stubborn and never really listen." She says, giving you a sympathetic smile.

***

Another week passes, and you and Tom still have talked. It's around three in the morning when he walks through the door, and you're sat on the couch in the living room, some random reality show is play in the background when you finally speak up to him.

"Tom," You start, causing him to stop in his tracks to the kitchen and turn around to face you. "What's going on here? Please just talk to me." You say, standing up to walk over to him.

"It's nothing, just go back to the t.v." He says, trying his best to dismiss you and walk to his room.

"Tom, please." You plead, grabbing onto one of his arms to stop him from leaving.

"I said it's nothing, Y/N." He says again, his eyes immediately softening when they meet yours.

"I can handle the 'no talking' thing, Tom, but I can't handle thinking that you're mad at me. So if you wanna go back to only talking to each other when we're planning a party, then that's fine, Tom. But I can't pretend like I don't want you, because I do, and I know you don't want me back. And I'm sorry, but I can't be around you if you're going to use my own feelings against me like you did at that party." You say, tilting your head back as you try to not let your tears fall.

"You think I don't want you?" He asks, tears pricking up in his eyes.

"Of course I do, Tom. You laughed at me when I told you that I have feelings for you." You said, scoffing as small tears fell down your cheeks.

"I only laughed because I thought you were lying. I didn't want to tell you that I have feelings for you too because I thought that you would've counteracted it and say that you weren't being serious." He says, his eyes straining a blood shot kinda of red.

"Then why were you such an asshole, Tommy?" You ask, his hands holding yours.

"You seemed like you wanted to be with Harrison at the party, and I got mad. I'm usually not an angry drunk, but I guess I was that night, and I'm sorry." He laughs quietly under his breath, before returning to a more serious tone. "I really am sorry, though. I treated you badly, and you, of all people, deserve that the least."

"I really like you, Tom." You say, laughing quietly at yourself and how you sound like a little kid confessing to their crush.

"I really like you too, Y/N." Tom says, leaning his forehead against yours.

"You do?" You ask breathlessly.

"Of course I do."

You sucked in your breath quietly, your nose touching with Tom's as he leans in slightly, your lips just inches away from each others. Your heads seemed to move in sync, your lips moving to touch each others at the exact same moment.

The kiss started off as soft and sweet, and it felt perfectly familiar. Even though you had never kissed Tom before, it felt as if your lips were made for each other's. Until the kiss grew heated, and passionate, your hands moving to grab his brown curls loosely as he rested his hands on your hips, he grip tightening as you pulled him closer to you, deepening the kiss.

You let out a quiet moan when Tom moved his lips down to your neck, sucking lightly onto the soft, sensitive skin.

"Tom... please." You moaned out, head falling to the side as you let Tom's mouth explore the soft skin of your neck.

"Are you sure?" He asked in between the wet, openmouthed kisses he was leaving all over your neck and the barely exposed skin of your chest.

"Fuck, yes. Please." You plead, Tom's eyes meeting with your until he grips at your thighs, causing you to jump up and wrap your legs around his waist, and then his lips are on yours again.

Your teeth sink into his bottom lip, making him dizzy, causing him to accidentally crash your back against the wall as he carries you to his room.

"Fuck, sorry." He says, causing you to laugh and shake your head, your hands cupping his cheeks, bringing his face closer to your, your lips connecting yet again.

Before you know it, you're practically tossed onto Tom's bed, his sheets puffing up around your head before Tom moves in between your legs, settling his body there as he continues to kiss you deeply.

Both you and Tom let out moans and groans when he starts to grind his hips against your heat, your hips bucking up instinctively. Tom places his hands on the backs of your thighs, gripping tightly to flip the both of you over, you now being on top, the already passionate kiss deepening as you put your boy weight into it.

Tom reached to the hem of your loose t-shirt, tugging it slightly to signal that he wanted it off of you. You lifted your hands above your head, causing Tom to sit up and rip the shirt off of you, your bare breasts now exposed to him. He sat there like a deer in the headlights for a few minutes, staring up at you in awe. You reached your hands to your waist, grabbing his wrists and placing his hands just underneath your breasts.

"You can touch me if you want to, Tom." You breathe out, a quiet giggle leaving your mouth.

Tom's hands move up to cup your breasts, squeezing lightly as he sat there, mouth open slightly as you both let out heavy breaths.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." He says, sitting up more to connect your lips again, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip, causing you to groan and grind your hips against his, gripping at his hoodie for him to pull it off.

When he does, he lays back down on his back, causing you to move forward and connect your lips to the skin of his chiseled chest, causing him to moan quietly when your teeth scrape against the already red skin, your nails scraping down his chest as well.

Tom's hands toy with the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down slightly, causing you to stand up and take them off, Tom staring at your naked body in awe once again. He lifted his hips up, trying quickly to remove his sweatpants and underwear, his cock springing free up against his stomach. Your mouth watered as you took a look at his cock, moving your body over to the bed again, straddling Tom as he sat up more to kiss you with heated passion once again.

He looks deeply into your eyes when you both pull away, his cock lined up with your entrance.

"Ready?" He says, gulping as he stares up at you.

"Yeah." You breathe out, finally sinking down onto him.

"Oh my god." You moan, your head rolling back.

"You okay?" He asks, kissing your chest and the parts of your neck that he can reach with ease.

"Yes." You say, moaning more as he sucks dark purple marks onto the tops of your breasts.

The both of you moan in sync as you start to bob up and down on his length.

"Fuck, you're tight." Tom groans out, his face inches from yours as you rode him.

Tom leaned up, connecting his lips with yours as your speed increased, the sound of your skin slapping together quietly filled the room. His hands went to grip at your waist, laying down fully as his fingers held onto your soft skin tightly.

"God, fuck, Thomas." You moaned, loud whimpers leaving your lips as Tom's grip on your waist tightened even more, sure to leave small bruises, not that you were complaining.

"Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good." He groans, his hands leaving your waist to hold onto your breasts, alternating between massaging them and rolling your nipples between his thumb and index fingers, both of which had you moaning and whimpering loudly as you rode him.

He moved one of his hands to your clit, rubbing quick circles as he started to thrust up into you, practically unable to restrain himself from the pleasure you were giving him.

You practically screamed as your bobs on his cock met with the pace of his upward thrusts, his cock hitting a place so deep inside of you that it made your head spin.

You leaned down his kiss him again, the pace of his fingers on your clit never faltering, as you neared your high.

"Holy shit!" You screamed, your walls clenching tightly around Tom's length, causing him to groan loudly as his thrusts up into you sped up, choked out, breathless moans from you following his actions.

"God, fuck! Shit, are you gonna cum?" He groans, trying his best to get you to reach your high before he reached his.

All you could do was moan and clench around him, signaling to him that you were close, and with just another deep, upwards thrust from him, practically screaming as you came undone above him, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

His high followed soon after yours, him groaning loudly as he came, his cock twitching deep inside of you, his mouth hung wide open.

He finally stopped thrusting upwards into you when you breathlessly moaned out, "Too much, Tommy.", a quiet giggle following.

Tom pulled you down onto him, your chest flush against his as his cock stayed resting inside of you.

"How long had it been for you?" He asked, his beautiful brown eyes meeting yours, the moonlight streaming through the curtains framing his face perfectly.

"Too fucking long." You say, the both of you laughing.

You giggled quietly when he connected his lips to yours, the both of you lazily for what seemed like hours.

"Be mine?" Tom said after pulling away, your foreheads resting against each other's.

"Is that a request or a demand?" You say, laughing underneath your breath.

"It depends on how you answer." Tom says, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips.

"I'll be yours, Tom. Of course I'll be yours." You say, your lips connecting with his again in another sweet kiss.

__________

@ertherealrose @peter-tiingle @petertiingz @fallinfortom @spideyyeet @am3l1a-24

#tom holland smut #smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #fanfic #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader angst #tom holland x y/n angst #tom holland #spider-man #frat!tom holland #university!tom holland

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retrievablememories · 4 years ago

Text

moonlight | jaehyun (m)

title: moonlight pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: smut request: “Hi 😘 Nct members going to a strip club and jaehyun getting a private dance that turns into fucking scenario please? Can be smutty” word count: 3.2k warnings: sex work, oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk, riding a/n: I admittedly don’t know much about strip clubs at my big age of 23 💀 I researched what I could but took some creative liberties. I only included a handful of nct members here since that is a looot of men lol

“Don’t look now, but your pretty boy and his group of friends are back. Diane says their car is outside,” Anya says, walking into the dressing room where the rest of the girls are. Your interest is piqued at this, though you pretend not to hear her as you finish applying your makeup. Serena isn’t so quick to let you off the hook.

“Isn’t that your boyfriend? Your little boy toy?” Serena asks, leaning closer and batting her eyelashes at you.

You pause with the mascara wand in your hand. “What boyfriend?” you scoff, though you already know exactly what she’s talking about.

“Girl, stop pretending like you’re not into him or some shit. You look at him almost as much as he stares at you!” Anya rolls her eyes and puts her hand on her hip, looking every bit of an Amazon in her 6-inch heels.

“He’s yet to request a private dance, so…I’m not sweatin’ over him. And anyway, he’s no boyfriend of mine if he ain’t paying the bills.”

“Okay, I heard that one!” Both Serena and Anya laugh at your comment. But now that you know he’s here, you are suddenly a little more motivated to dance well tonight. Not that you don’t already, but a little extra never hurt anyone.

Him and his idol friends come around to Moonlight every so often, one weekend or so a month, to get their rocks off. They’re from that kpop group NCT, and you’ve figured out the one who stares is Jaehyun. But you don’t know a ton about them other than those bare facts.

With Moonlight being one of a few ultra-diverse strip clubs in Seoul, it rose to popularity fairly quickly after its establishment. And to no one’s surprise — no one who truly knows the game, anyway — there are always a lot of kpop idols who come to watch the dancers. Their fans would undoubtedly be scandalized if they knew, but hey, that ain’t your problem. You’re here to make money, have fun, and seduce starry-eyed, lonely men. If they’re attractive, that’s only a bonus.

The House Mother, Daya, comes to stand in the doorway and calls your name. “You’re up next girl, so move that ass!”

“I’m coming,” you sigh dramatically, but there are no hard feelings at all. She’s one of the nicer club owners in this part of the city, one who treats all the girls like equals no matter what their skin color or creed is. And when you work in a club as popular and as multicultural as Moonlight, you need someone there to keep the drama to a minimum.

The club is as dim as ever, but the stage lights remain at a low shine, ready to come on full blast once the next dancer appears. The music thumps so heavily that the bass seems to become one with the building, making every part of the club feel alive with energy. A group of 5 men enter, weaving their way through the seats to make it to their usual spot next to the stage.

“Wow, can’t believe we’re actually in a strip club right now, haha…” Mark tries to play it cool, but he’s not very good at hiding his nervousness. This is only his first strip club outing with the other boys, after all. He taps his fingers on his legs like he’s playing the drums.

“Yeah, could’ve sworn we were on Mars instead,” Doyoung says, and the others laugh while Mark rolls his eyes.

Mark isn’t the only one whose nerves are getting to him, though. Johnny notices Jaehyun’s restless demeanor as the rest of them settle in, and he muffles a laugh, nudging the younger man. “God, I hope that one dancer you like is here tonight, you look like you’re about to come out of your clothes.”

“She’s way out of your league,” Ten snickers.

“Stop acting like I’m ugly. I could get her any time,” Jaehyun argues, glaring at the other man.

“She’s a woman of her own, not something you can take as you please, Jaehyun!” Johnny says, and both Ten and Jaehyun laugh.

“Johnny, you should keep an eye out for your own crush.” Doyoung gives him a knowing look, and he only laughs sheepishly in response.

It isn’t long before you appear on the stage, the club bursting with cheers and claps and the dual spotlights flickering to full illumination. The spotlights glisten on your skin and reflect off the light pink lingerie set you’re wearing, making you look akin to a goddess—at least in Jaehyun’s eyes. You step out from behind the velvety curtains, letting the fabric caress your body before making your way towards the pole in the middle of the stage.

Your signature song plays as you twist yourself around the pole and perform your favorite tricks, letting yourself be hyped up and carried away by the people around you calling your stage name and throwing bills at your feet. The world spins as you do, revolving around the pole with your legs touching the sky. You grin at the upside-down faces staring back at you, leaving your charm to do all the talking.

You finish your pole routine by slowly sliding down to the base of it and landing carefully in a split. Your back is facing the NCT boys, though you look over your shoulder to flash a sultry look at the audience. This one is always a crowd-pleaser—though you also use this move as an excuse to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun’s expression. You aren’t disappointed by the hunger written across his gaze.

You gracefully turn your body to them, getting on your hands and knees so they have a full view of your chest. As you crawl closer to the end of the stage, Jaheyun’s figure grows clearer underneath the club’s simultaneously dark and light atmosphere. He’s close enough to reach out and touch.

So you do—bringing your legs out in front of you and spreading them in an appealing stretch before resting them on his shoulders, one after the other. Other men in the club seethe with envy. Jaehyun himself is stuck like a fish out of water, blushing madly but also completely into your display.

Beside him, Doyoung whoops and Johnny whistles. You lift your legs off of Jaehyun gracefully and follow the move by letting your silk robe slip off your shoulders, fully exposing the bare skin of your shoulders and back. Even this is enough to get the men riled up again, and you revel in their cheers.

Jaehyun knows enough strip club etiquette than to try to touch you, and you take advantage of this by gliding off the stage and circling him like he’s your prey. You purposely brush your silk robe over his body, letting it cocoon him in your scent. His fingers drift across it, and he wonders if it could possibly be as soft as your skin looks—or maybe you’re even softer.

Before he can truly get into it, you’ve flitted off to another nearby table of men, taking your silk with you.

“Holy fuck,” Mark looks like a deer in the headlights, and his legs are crossed uncomfortably to hide his obvious boner.

“The baby’s gonna implode!” Ten laughs.

“Well hold it, because the night is just beginning!” Doyoung shouts.

Jaehyun’s eyes keep coming over to you even as you rotate to one of the other, smaller platforms in the club, another girl taking your spot on the main stage.

“You really put it on him tonight, huh?” Serena says, putting her arm around your shoulders. “He’s totally in love. Watch him come to the next show with an engagement ring.” You chuckle at that idea. You find it strangely endearing. You wouldn’t marry him without knowing him, of course, but the idea of having him that tightly wrapped around your finger makes you grin.

You don’t have long to think about it before Daya is coming to break up your kiking fest.

“You’ve got a request for a private dance from one Jaehyun. Sound familiar?” Daya announces. Serena nudges you, and you nod. Daya raises her eyebrows. “You up for it?”

The corners of your lips curl up in a smile. “Give me 5 to freshen up.”

Moonlight holds a dozen or so rooms within its second story, all solely reserved for private dances. You climb the stairs slowly in your heels, partly because you don’t want to trip and partly because you’re slightly nervous about what to expect. There’s an abundance of security guards stationed on this level—and each room has an emergency button—so you’re not worried about safety, per se. Whoever this Jaehyun guy really is, you hope he can meet a few of your expectations, at least. Maybe it’s a little embarrassing, but you’ve built him up in your mind more than you’ve allowed yourself with other club-goers.

The room number is 202. You stand in front of the door for a few moments to take several deep breaths. Then you relax your body, talking yourself back into your Performance mode, and open the door.

“Who’s this handsome man?” Jaehyun looks up to see you standing in the doorway, still wearing your outfit from the stage. He sits up on the plush black couch that stands out from the blazing purple hue of the rest of the room. A row of mirrors frames the wall behind the couch, reflecting your own figure back to you. He looks a bit disheveled, with his shirt unbuttoned and his slacks crooked, but it’s a good look for him.

He leans forward to drink in your body, his eyes drifting up from the garters resting against your thighs to the lacy bra covering your breasts, and you smile underneath his gaze. “Jaehyun. And you’re ______...right?”

“Of course. You should know me by now, special boy,” you tease, sauntering over to him to sit on the couch beside him, instead of his lap like he expected. Still, you hover incredibly close to him, your hand sliding against his lapels and stroking the fabric of his button-up right where it unfolds against his skin. “After all, you’ve stared enough.”

“It’s hard not to.” Jaehyun rakes his eyes across your body as if he’s dying to touch it. You smirk and stand up again, sliding off your silk robe and throwing it to him as you wind your body to the music coming from the room’s speakers.

“What would your girlfriend say?” you tease.

His eyes widen at that. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Don’t act so scandalized about it...men with girlfriends and wives come here all the time. It’s shitty...but it’s life.” You say this while twisting your hips in his face, and he initially seems a little too distracted to realize you’ve said anything. Then it registers.

“That’s....do you like this j-job, at least?” Jaehyun’s breath hitches at the end of his sentence when you drape yourself across his body, your head resting back on his shoulder and your ass pressing against the undeniable bulge in his pants. Still, he doesn’t touch you, which you are grateful for—many other men haven’t been so tactful during private dances—so you continue servicing him without a care in the world.

“It’s fun, and I get to meet handsome men like you.” Your fingers ghost across his jawline, drifting only inches away but not making contact. “There’s a lot to like about it.”

You move away and he thinks you mean to get up, but you only turn to face him. “You can touch me now, if you’d like. I think you’ve been a good boy…”

You grind in Jaehyun’s lap and are delighted when he responds in kind, pushing his hips up to meet yours. Your faces are inches apart. You are practically breathing in sync, smiling like there’s a secret only the two of you know.

You make the first move by kissing him, and he slants his mouth against yours as if your lips have always belonged together.

You grasp Jaehyun’s hand and lead it to your hip, and he takes the cue to rest both of his hands on your waist, simply following your directions.

He does take the lead with the kiss, though, biting your lip as you gently pull away, and tugging you back in. He tastes like alcohol, and as cliché as it is, it makes you feel a bit drunk—but that might also be due to his demeanor itself.

“How long have you wanted this?” you ask, sliding your hand into his black shirt and drawing your nails across his skin—not painfully hard, but enough to make him throb under you.

“Maybe too long,” he says. “You’re very beautiful.”

You smile. “Aren’t we a perfect match, then?” Your hand slides lower, to his abdomen and the muscles you can feel even under his dress shirt, and then to his belt. “Would you like to continue?” you ask.

“Yes.”

You unbuckle his belt, sliding the leather through his belt loops and dropping it off to the side somewhere. You slide yourself off his lap to kneel in front of him as you caress his lower half, rubbing your hands up his thighs and across his bulge, underneath his clothing to feel his abs, and then back again.

Unzipping his dress pants is equally fun. You watch him sweat and feel him shudder as you drag the zipper down with your teeth. You pull his underwear down after, slowly drawing the material over his skin on purpose. His cock springs out, hard and thick and flushed with need, and you lean forward to drag your mouth over it, base to tip.

Jaehyun is heavy and warm against your lips and he smells good, like male musk, like pheromones and desire. You hold the base as you slap his dick on your tongue and he rolls his head back, making a sound between a groan and a laugh as if he can’t believe this is happening.

He doesn’t want to rush or hurt you, so he lets you do the work of sliding him into your mouth as far as you can take, drooling over his dick and sucking him so messily that it makes his knees quiver. The groans and grunts you pull out of him are lovely to hear—you feel good to know that you can bring him this much pleasure so easily. His precum drips into your mouth, salty on your tastebuds.

Jaehyun is pliable in your hands as you stroke his shaft, focusing your tongue on his leaking tip. You feel his thumb brushing the back of your neck, his hand settling on your nape as he watches you suck his dick. He curses under his breath when you scrape your teeth against him very gently, giving just enough pressure to make it feel good.

Soon, you feel Jaehyun nearing in your mouth, his cock throbbing harder and his thighs trembling around you.

“I-I want to fuck you,” Jaehyun says abruptly. You pull back to look at him through your eyelashes. You leave a trail of spit lingering between your lips and his dick, and he looks like he might come right then.

“Such a greedy boy.” You lift yourself to be level with his eyes, tilting his chin with your fingertips. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?” He looks like he isn’t totally certain that’s the right answer, and it makes you laugh. In response to his request, you turn to face the door, bending over and making a show of unclipping your garters and sliding your thong down before straightening to remove them completely. Jaehyun moans at that.

You turn back to see that he’s already taken care of the condom. He groans beautifully for you again when you crawl back onto his lap and slide him inside of you, clenching around his hard length.

You start with a slow and winding rhythm at first, not entirely hellbent on teasing him but not willing to let him blow his load too soon, either. His hands are all over your body at this point, gripping your ass and your breasts and whatever else he can get his hands on. He pulls your bra down and tugs your nipples into his mouth like a man starved.

You laugh at his eagerness, riding him harder.

Jaehyun plants his feet straight on the ground and starts thrusting up into you and you cry out at the added sensation, his tip hitting against your g spot and making you sweat and tremble.

“Fuck, you’re good,” you sigh, digging your nails into his shoulder as you fuck each other at the perfect pace.

“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had,” he says in between sucking your nipples. “I’ve gotta taste it.”

“N-next time.” Your body squeezes around him again as he brings one of his hands to the front to rub your clit. You’re glad the music is loud, otherwise there’d be no hiding your noises or the sound of your skin slapping together.

You feel wild and free in a way you haven’t in a long time, and you let yourself scrape your nails across his skin and bite at his neck as you fuck yourself harder on his dick.

You and Jaehyun kiss and thrust against each other like you’ll never get to do it again, with all the delicious hurriedness that a quick and tension-filled type of fuck can offer.

“I’m c-close.” Jaehyun groans this into your hair as you’ve gone back to biting his neck again. He grips your ass and holds you tighter against him, if at all possible, and pushes himself into your spot with renewed energy. His hand still works your clit, just shy of being firm enough to hurt—but practiced enough to provide pleasure.

“Not without me,” you say, licking the shell of his ear. “What would your friends say?”

“They wouldn’t know, because right now, you’re mine alone.” He slaps your ass and that’s enough to get you spilling onto him, crying his name right into his eardrum as you shudder and tighten around him.

Jaehyun comes soon after, thrusting a few more times and settling himself deep inside you as he fills the condom. He leans his head against the couch and you watch as he vocalizes his pleasure, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he arches into you.

You feel sated and a bit sleepy now, but your shift isn’t over yet and there are still more shows to be done. You lay a kiss on Jaehyun’s throat before gingerly untangling yourself from him and redressing, making sure everything is in place.

Jaehyun throws away the condom and does the same for himself, though there won’t be any hiding the bruises you’ve left on his neck. He looks in the mirrors behind him and blushes at the sight of them, brushing his fingers over them.

“Sorry honey. Hope your friends don’t tease you too much over it.” You smile sympathetically, though you aren’t terribly sorry. You move to open the door but Jaehyun calls out wait, and you pause.

He slides a piece of paper with his number on it into your hand and gives you a smirk. “Don’t forget our promise. ‘Next time,’ remember?”

You tuck the paper into your bra and make a note to put it somewhere safer once you get to the dressing room. “Of course, baby.” With that, you are gone, and Jaehyun is left with the memories—and the marks—to remind him of you until you meet again.

#jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct ambw #ambw fic #ambw scenarios #nct scenarios #nct jaehyun #nct fic #nct 127 fic #nct 127 imagines #ambw imagines

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katie-writes24 · 4 years ago

Text

Say It Don’t Spray It

Pairing: John Laurens x reader

Warnings: Language, alcohol, suggestive material, FUCK TON OF ANGST KIDS, kinda sad, John doesn’t know when to shut up :,)

Part 2

Request: hey! my request was a laurens x reader where they're frenemies, n one day they get into this huge fight that stems from nothing, angst angst angst, and then he comes to her house to apologize. they simultaneously realize they have feelings for one another, and fluff fluff fluff...idek know after that lol - @notebookgirl30

Okay....WAYYYY OVERDUE I TOTALLY APOLOGIZE! Ngl this was a bit of a struggle to write because I just wanted to get a good feel of their “relationship/friendship” but I think I got it. Maybe? But I built a bigger storyline than expected so there’ll be a part 2. But yeah, hope you enjoy! Thank you @tinywhim for the title (you’re a real one, you don’t even know). Let me know if you want to be tagged! Leave me some feedback PLEASE!! And yeah! Enjoy!

“Has anyone ever told you you’re super boring?”

Y/N scoffed, “I’ve always loved your compliments, Angelica.”

She rolled her eyes, giving her coworker an exaggerated look. “You have nothing better to do on a Friday night. Normal people go out, and party and have fun! It’s the weekend, Y/N, you don’t have to worry about anything!”

That was an overstatement. Y/N actually did have lots to do, like finish her report and pay her bills and visit her parents and do actual adult things. Her partying days were over in college, and she knew that nothing good could come from a night surrounded by all of Angelica’s friends, some who happen to be their coworkers.

This was different though, in a way. Yes, it was Angelica’s birthday, but she was never good at social interaction, especially not at a club. These days she’ll go out with the Schuyler’s for a couple of drinks and go home and call it a day. That was enough for her, and she was okay with it. She was perfectly fine with her own friends telling her how she’s a buzzkill when it comes to partying. She was fine with not putting herself out there to guys because she didn’t think it was necessary right now.

She was comfortable at this point in her life, and she wasn’t going to ruin that over a drunken night at the club.

“Aren’t you two like best friends? You’re gonna miss your best friend’s birthday party?” Y/N turned to find John tutting in mock disapproval, swaying slightly on his chair.

“Will you butt out?” Y/N glared hard but it didn’t have the proper effect when he only laughed.

That’s the other problem. John is going to be there, which could only mean chaos. She’s been to enough office parties over the last two years to notice that he can’t hold his liquor and is incredibly loud. Not only were his obnoxious traits an issue, but there was something about him that got under her skin, not totally in a good way.

Eliza would never make her forget her little crush that sparked at the beginning of her job, when John was always nice to her and would give her this blinding smile. That sailed long ago, but apparently, a drunken night full of shared secrets was enough for the Schuyler to remember. Now, maybe there were some things that Y/N could pick out to prove to herself that he was an actual decent human being, but the John Laurens that had been sitting beside her for years was still John Laurens.

“I’m sitting three feet away from you,” He gestured at their desks that were only separated by a couple of inches. “I can literally hear everything you’re saying.”

“And he’s right!” Angelica reached over her desk and grabbed her hand. “It wouldn’t feel right if you weren’t there. Please, Y/N, it’s just a couple of hours. I promise if you really get uncomfortable you can leave, but I know you won’t because it is going to be amazing!”

Rolling her eyes yet again, Y/N did feel a little guilty. Angelica has always been there for her, through all the ups and downs, she’s been her biggest support system. It wouldn’t be fair to not celebrate her birthday with her.

“Fine,” Angelica practically squealed at her grumble. “But don’t count on me as your designated driver, because I might really dip out if it gets too rowdy for me.”

“Might as well not go then. Put me and Alex together, pshhh, you’ll be walking out the door as soon as you step in.” John winked, like he just knew how to get Y/N fired up and ready to argue back. Angelica knew too, as she pulled her hands toward her again, gaining her attention.

“Ignore him, I swear we will all have a good time! Plus, who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone there.”

She looked hopeful, almost as if this was her intention all along. But Y/N knew better, no matter how many times Angelica tried to set her up, she wouldn’t invite her somewhere only to be mislead and be set on a blind date.

“I am not interested, I am perfectly capable of finding someone on my own, if I choose.” She made sure to point out the last part so her friend would drop the subject.

“I’m just saying,” Angelica put her hands in up in defense, but still had that knowing look on her face like she didn’t believe her. Y/N sighed and got up from her chair, heading towards the break room for another coffee.

Upon entering, she noticed Thomas was already by the coffee machine, pouring his own cup. He looked up and raised a brow. “Long day?”

“And it’s only getting started,” Y/N rubbed a hand over her face and motioned towards the machine. “Are you done hogging that now?”

“Woah, woah, what did I do to be treated with such attitude?” Thomas chuckled and grabbed a cup for her.

“Sorry, I’m just...kind of stressed, not really looking forward to the weekend?”

“You mean Angelica’s party?” Thomas handed the cup over to her, nodding at her thanks and watched her add cream into the liquid.

“Yes, actually. I’m not really good at parties, I think they’re too exciting for me. Go on, say it, I’m a boring buzzkill.” It’s not like she’s ever heard anything different before when trying to explain how she’d rather stay at home and unwind while reading a book or watching tv and just relaxing, instead of being surrounded by sweaty bodies and drinking till she grows numb.

“Now why are you putting words in my mouth? I was actually going to say I agree with you.” Y/N looked up in shock, not believing that Thomas Jefferson was one to refuse a party invitation.

“Really? You don’t like parties?”

“Not that I don’t like them, sometimes they grow old. It’s the same scene over and over again and I’d rather switch it up a bit, change the location, you know?” He had a small smile on his face, looking like he was fonding over some memory.

“You’re right, it must be so hard being invited to parties all the time!” Y/N smirked as he gasped dramatically in mock offense. It only lead to them giggling to each other, only stopping when someone else cleared their throat from the doorway.

Y/N found John standing, his usual smile gone and replaced with a frown and furrowed brows. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, no, I was just leaving actually,” Thomas made way to the exit before hesitating, turning back to look at Y/N. “I’ll see you at the party, Y/N.”

She waved shyly, watching him walk away. It was comforting talking to Thomas, in a way. They didn’t do it very often, but when they did Y/N felt relaxed.

Lost in her thoughts, a cough startled her and she realized she was standing in John’s way. Y/N stepped to the side, muttering an apology and thinking how Friday night might not be so bad.

~~~

It’s not that Y/N doubted that Angelica would not settle for less than a full out, top quality club. But she didn’t think that it would include a private floor, filled with a bunch of people that Y/N didn’t know. Luckily, she spotted the birthday girl herself from across the room.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Angelica screamed over the music that was blasting from the floor below. She was well passed tipsy already, but she knew that Angelica would want to sober up before the night was over. She was never one to purposefully forget her birthday. “Come on, let’s get you a drink!”

She pulled her over towards the overcrowded bar, pushing passed drunks and couples dancing, Y/N even got stumbled into and turned to find a familiar head of curls.

“Watch it, Laurens!” The glare sent his way was enough to make him sheepishly smile.

“My bad,” John walked off towards a booth in the corner, surrounded by a few other men, one who she had recognized as a friend of Thomas.

A shot was shoved into her hand and soon enough, so were two more. Once a proper drink was in her hold, Angelica invited her to a game of pool with her sisters.

Somehow, Y/N got surrounded by a bunch of people that she didn’t know. Angelica had been dragged over by a short man, which meant Y/N was dragged as well. It was the booth full of John’s friends, and they had made their impression, that was for sure.

“Ah, and who do we have here?” Thomas’s friend came over and smiled, making Angelica smirk and push his chest.

“Laf, this is Y/N,” Even though they had never met before, Lafayette beamed at the mention of her name.

“So, this is the famous Y/N we have heard so much about, heh?” He grinned devilishly, like he knew something that she didn’t. It was strange, what would Angelica have said about her?

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N stuck out her hand politely.

“Oh please, the pleasure is all mine, cherie!” He took her hand and placed a gentle kiss in her knuckles. She giggled at his performance, looking to see if anyone else was buying the act. But when she looked around to see if anyone else knew something, she only saw John glaring at his friend while sipping on his drink.

Her coworker’s odd behavior was enough for her to move herself to the bar, ordering another drink for herself. As the bartender handed her the cup, he told her that it was already paid for, pointing her in the direction to a man across the room. He was cute, and if the look in his eye told her anything, it was the words Angelica had said.

You don’t have to worry about anything.

Maybe you’ll meet someone.

Perhaps she was right.

She was tired of everyone telling her how boring she was.

Y/N found herself dancing with the guy, not bothering to learn his name and more focused on her hips moving with his. The lips on her neck gave her a rush, like she was finally doing something fun and risky.

His hands were pulling at the hem of her dress when she was jolted forward. The guy had bumped into her hard, and when she turned around she found out it wasn’t the guys fault, but John’s.

“What the hell man?” The guy got up in his face. Y/N couldn’t really hear what they were saying, but it looked like it was something threatening. Laf, the short man and another one of John’s friends appeared, trying to pull him back and tell him to just leave it alone. John wasn’t having it, took to pushing the guy hard once more.

It was a giant commotion that got security involved, and Y/N was over it. She ran out of the club, tears brimming her eyes as she thought about what exactly just happened.

John always had to ruin the night. John always had a problem with her.

John also stopped her from calling a cab, grabbing her hand just as she reached the sidewalk and calling her name.

“What the fuck, John? What the hell was that for?” Y/N screamed, wide eyed and wondering why when she was finally having a good time, he had to fuck it up.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry! I just- I couldn’t let him-”

“Couldn’t let him what? Touch me? Dance with me? Why? How does that have anything to do with you, John?” Nothing was connecting, there was never a time she could recall where John cared about her love life.

“He was an asshole anyways, alright? Was he really all that to you? Okay, if anything I was helping you!” If he could actually believe that, John was growing angry, too. He had no right to be, but his kept spitting out words that only made Y/N fill with rage.

“What did I ever do to you? Why? Why do you have such a problem with me?” While furious was an understatement, she seemed to be more confused as to why John got involved anyways. She was finally inching out of her shell and he just had to give her a reason to want to never leave her apartment again.

“I don’t have a problem with you, Y/N. I’m drunk, I’m-I didn’t mean to do that, I just-”

“Just what?” While John was stumbling with his words, she knew better. “Being drunk is not an excuse against your actions!”

"I was just trying to make a point! He was all over you, I thought you were uncomfortable!” He narrowed his eyes, and he’d grown more angry than regretful only a few seconds before.

“Well, I wasn’t! I am a grown woman, John, I’m allowed to have fun and meet guys! I was having a good time until you had to ruin it!”

“Jesus- I was just looking out for you! It’s not my fault you’re such a whore-”

The world seemed to stop as the two screaming voices died instantly at the sharp sound of the hit. John locked his jaw before he lifted his hand to rub his cheek. When he finally lifted his eyes, he saw Y/N pursing her lips in pure rage, a single tear streak ran down her cheek. She looked so small, fragile in a way that made him want to wrap her in his arms and promise that he would make sure that nothing ever hurt her.

He had already proven that he could never do such a thing.

“Fuck you, John.” Y/N whispered and turned, leaving him standing alone, full of regret.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Laurens taglist: @alievans007 @etjt1821 @dontblinkumightmiss @hj-creates

#john laurens x reader fic #john laurens x reader #john laurens imagine #john laurens x oc #my writings #hamilton imagine #hamilton fanfiction #hamilton fanfic #John watch your mouth #we respect women in this house #anyways #I’ll probably rewrite this but it’s fine

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