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itneverendshere · 3 days

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the way i can see rafe rolling his eyes when he hears you yell across a party for jj to knock it off in picking a fight, and laughs at jj when he listens to you, and is like an embarrassed little dog.

a perfect world where rafe realizes he and jj are the same person in different fonts <3 thank you for the request, i love jj in this lmao😭🩵

you say you got it & you have to let me see - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

The annual boneyard party was in full swing, and like clockwork, someone was trying to start shit.

You stood close to Rafe, your hand loosely gripping a beer bottle as you watched the mess unfold in front of you. "JJ!" you called out, voice loud and clear across the sand. "Knock it off!"

Rafe felt the corner of his mouth twitch, suppressing a grin. It wasn't even surprising anymore.

JJ Maybank—still the same hot-headed teen who grew up a few doors down from you—was in some guy's face, already half a second away from getting clocked.

His first instinct was to roll his eyes. Every year. Every damn year, JJ managed to start up some bullshit. Rafe glanced down at you, saw how your brow furrowed in annoyance, and the urge to laugh took over instead.

It was kind of funny, watching JJ go from ready to swing to immediately backing off the second you opened your mouth.

JJ turned like a kid caught stealing cookies from the jar, hands half-raised in defense as he looked at you with wide eyes. “Chill! I wasn’t even—”

"Yeah, yeah," you cut him off, pointing your beer in his direction. "Save it. Just walk away, okay?"

And, of course, he did.

Like a scolded puppy, he muttered something under his breath before shoving his hands into his pockets and trudging off. Rafe snorted, shaking his head. "Little brother still listens to you, huh?"

You shot him a look, half-smiling. "Someone's gotta keep him in line."

"Yeah, well," Rafe glanced at JJ’s retreating figure, still chuckling under his breath, "It's funny watching him tuck his tail between his legs every time."

He wasn’t usually one for parties like this anymore—too many reminders of who he used to be—but being here with you made it easier. You grounded him. Three years of dating, living together, dealing with life’s shitstorms, and somehow you still managed to make everything feel lighter.

You narrowed your eyes, “Don’t think you’re so different from him Mr. No one talks down to my girlfriend.”

Rafe’s grin widened, and he took a long sip from his beer, savoring the burn of the carbonation on his throat. You had him there. Not that he was gonna admit it. “That was different,” he drawled, flashing you a smirk.

“Uh-huh,” you said, arching an eyebrow. “How, exactly?”

He scratched at his jaw, the familiar prickle of stubble reminding him he hadn’t shaved in a few days. “I mean, I didn’t throw a punch every time. Just made it clear no one’s gonna talk shit.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips twitched. “You’re lucky I love you, Cameron.”

Rafe’s heart did that stupid thing it always did when you said stuff like that, even after all these years. He could play it cool all he wanted, but you knew how to get to him. Always did.

“Yeah, I am,” he said, stepping a little closer, his body blocking the cool breeze coming off the ocean. He could smell the saltwater and smoke, but all he cared about was the warmth radiating from you. He took a swig of his beer, watching the flames from the bonfire dance against the night sky. “How many more times you think you’ll have to pull him out of a fight tonight?”

You tilted your head, thinking for a second before shrugging. “Depends on how much he’s had to drink.”

JJ was like a golden retriever sometimes—quick to rile up, but just as quick to bounce back. Rafe watched him for a second, the way he moved through the crowd, all ego and no direction. It reminded him of himself when he was younger. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“He’s gonna make it hard for me to take him seriously if you keep saving his ass.”

"Like you’ve ever taken him seriously," you shot back, giving him a playful shove.

True. Rafe couldn’t remember a single time in the last few years where JJ had been more than an annoyance.

"God, it’s like he’s still twelve or something," you muttered, shaking your head. You took a step closer to him, your arm brushing his. The firelight flickered in your eyes, making you look impossibly warm.

The kind of warmth Rafe had gotten used to over the years. The kind he was lucky to have. He turned to face you, an easy smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, but at least it’s entertaining.”

You smirked. "For now. I give it an hour before he’s passed out in the sand."

He tilted his head, giving you a mock-serious look. “You wanna place a bet on that?”

You squinted at him like you were actually considering it. “What’s the wager?”

Rafe leaned in, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Winner gets to pick what we do tomorrow.”

You raised an eyebrow, your smirk deepening. “And what exactly do you have in mind?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool but knowing exactly what he’d want if he won. He could feel the stupid velvet box burning in his pocket. He carried it everywhere, hoping he’d man up and do it already. He couldn’t do it now—not here, not like this, not with JJ stumbling around somewhere in the background and the sound of half-drunk partygoers laughing around you.

“I don’t know. Maybe spend the day out on the boat. Just the two of us.”

“Alright, deal,” you said, holding out your hand for him to shake, “Sounds nice.”

Nice wasn’t even close to what he had in mind.

He took your hand, but instead of shaking it, he pulled you in closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. You let out a small laugh, leaning into him. The beer bottle in your hand dangled lazily at your side. You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Rafe let out a breathy chuckle, turning his head to capture your lips with his. The kiss was slow, lazy even, like there wasn’t a party around you. “Still think I’m cute, huh?”

You gave him a look, lips curving into a shit-eating-grin. “When you’re not acting like JJ.”

He groaned, tipping his head back dramatically. “Don’t compare me to that fuckin' idiot.”

You just grinned, pulling away slightly, though your hand stayed on his chest. “Relax. You’re cuter, baby.”

“Damn right,” Rafe muttered, tugging you back to him. He liked having you close like this—reminded him that no matter how much shit had changed, some things stayed solid. You. Him. This.

He kissed the top of your head, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair, and let out a contented sigh.

JJ had somehow found another beer, and as Rafe glanced his way, he saw Kie giving him a hard time, probably for almost getting into it earlier.

“You think they’ll ever figure it out?” you asked, following Rafe’s gaze.

“Who, JJ and Kie?” He shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. “Maybe. Probably not, though. They’re both too stubborn.”

You hummed in agreement, resting your head against his shoulder. “Sounds familiar.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, we turned out alright, didn’t we?”

You smiled up at him, the firelight dancing in your eyes. “Yeah, we did.”

Just as you and Rafe were starting to get lost in your own little world, a sudden shout cut through the noise of the party. Rafe glanced up and spotted JJ again, this time charging toward some guy who was standing way too close to Kie.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

JJ's posture tense, fists clenched at his sides, and his voice already rising in that familiar way that screamed trouble. "Hey, man, back the fuck off!" He growled, pushing the guy away from Kie. The dude barely had time to react before JJ was already up in his face, looking like he was seconds away from throwing a punch.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Rafe muttered under his breath.

Without a second thought, he downed the last of his beer and started striding toward fight. You followed, a little concerned but mostly impressed by how quickly he handled it. He was always the one who kept things calm now—so different from his hot-headed younger days.

“Maybank!” Rafe’s voice boomed across the beach, and you could hear the change in tone.

He was done playing around.

JJ, too focused on trying to defend Kie’s honor, didn’t even hear him. Rafe didn’t hesitate. He grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from the guy before anything could escalate further.

The younguer blonde whipped around, ready to argue, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Rafe. “Dude, I—”

“Start walking,” He hauled him a few feet away, practically dragging him while the other guy quickly disappeared into the crowd.

You couldn’t help but watch the way Rafe took control of the situation, handling JJ like a dad trying to wrangle a rowdy teenager. You could see the way he deflated in response. He’d grown to respect Rafe too much to keep pushing.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Rafe said, his grip still tight on JJ’s shirt. “You’re gonna get yourself knocked out one of these days if you don’t stop acting like you need to throw hands over every little thing.” JJ scowled but didn’t say anything, and Rafe shook his head, letting him go. “Seriously, Kie can handle herself. And if she needs backup, that’s what we are for—not you getting your ass handed to you every time some guy breathes in her direction.”

JJ kicked at the sand, muttering something under his breath, but he knew better than to argue. Rafe’s voice softened a little, seeing JJ’s shoulders slump. “Look, I get it. But not like this. Not here.”

He nodded once, reluctantly, and Rafe gave him a rough pat on the shoulder before turning back to you. He caught your eye, and you felt the pride bloom in your chest. The way he handled himself, the way he diffused situations—it wasn’t just about being strong anymore, it was about knowing how to lead, how to take care of the people he loved. And, honestly? It was a turn-on.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes lingered on him as he came back over to you. He looked so composed, so solid, and that arm of his, the way he pulled JJ back without breaking a sweat—it had your mind going places. Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk on his lips.

“What?” he asked, already knowing you were checking him out.

You stepped closer, trailing your fingers up his arm, feeling the strength in the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.

“Nothing,” you murmured, biting your lip as your eyes met his. “Just proud of you.”

Rafe chuckled, his hand slipping around your waist, pulling you against him. “Proud, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whispered, pressing yourself closer, feeling the warmth of his body. “It’s kinda hot.”

“That what does it for you now? Me playing babysitter?”

You laughed softly, your hand still resting on his arm, fingers trailing along his bicep. “Not just that. The way you handled it. You’re just—”

Rafe’s hand slid down your back. “Just what?” he asked, his breath hot against your neck.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart pick up speed. "Strong.” You smirked, letting your hand slide lower, down the curve of his chest. “Kinda makes me wanna—”

He cut you off with a kiss, his mouth moving against yours with a kind of slow intensity that had you melting into him. His hand gripped you tighter, pulling you even closer, because he could never have enough of you.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you a little breathless, he smirked down at you. “You keep talkin' like that, we might need to leave this party a little early.”

You grinned up at him, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Might not be the worst idea,” you teased, your voice low. “Think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

Rafe chuckled, his lips brushing against your forehead before he pulled away just enough to glance over his shoulder, making sure JJ wasn’t about to start up more trouble.

When he saw everything was calm, he turned back to you, “Let’s get outta here, baby.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

He pulled you in close as you reached the car, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, making your head spin all over again.

"You're somethin' else, you know that?" he whispered against your lips, his hands sliding up your back, fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"Get in the car, Cameron.”

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aesthetictarlos · 16 hours

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I don't think Buck has realised how much Tommy hides behind that confidence and coolness and smoothness he shows. Of course he knows there's a story there, knows about Gerrard and that Tommy doesn't talk to his parents but he doesn't know about his insecurities, about his past, yet.

Doesn't know that Tommy's fucking terrified because he might not have abandonment issues like Buck does, but a lot of people left him behind. He doesn't know that Tommy's still learning how to let someone in, how to let someone take care of him, how to be vulnerable. Doesn't know that Tommy still has nightmares from his time in the army, doesn't know that he's the first person to make Tommy feel like he matters, like he's worthy of love. Doesn't know that Tommy still struggles to show his emotions because no matter how many therapy sessions he attended, sometimes he still feels the need to bottle everything up and shove it down. Doesn't know that Tommy's insecure, too, that sometimes he looks at himself in the mirror and sees the asshole he was a few years back.

He's not being naive, it's just that Tommy's so cool and funny and sarcastic and he always knows what to say, what to do and they're still in the honeymoon phase and things are great and their bubble is so nice but then one day something bad happens and he would like to help, to be there for his boyfriend but he realizes that Tommy's holding back, because that's what he's used to doing. He takes care of himself, he hides and licks his wounds, because he's never had someone like Buck before.

Buck doesn't know what to do when his boyfriend clams and shuts down and barely talks to him. He doesn't know what to do when Tommy's distant but still looks at him fondly, doesn't know what to do when he wakes up in the middle of the night to Tommy's quiet sobs. He just reaches a hand out and brushes his palm up and down Tommy's back, soothing him as best as he can, and when the next morning Tommy crumbles in the middle of his kitchen while Buck is making them breakfast, Buck is right there, holding him up and holding him close.

He tells Tommy that he can be vulnerable with him, that he won't leave, that he wants everything, the good and the bad, and patiently listens to Tommy telling him that he doesn't know how to be vulnerable, because he never had someone picking up his pieces before. He listens as Tommy finally tells him about his father and his heavy hands on his tiny body, tells him about the screams he heard at night when their parents fought, tells him about the group homes he lived in because no one would want to foster or adopt a ten year old, tells him about the army and that one time he watched his co-pilot bleed out on the cold sand of the desert. Buck listens as Tommy tells him about Gerrard, and his early days at the 118 and the guilt that still eats him alive sometimes. Buck listens as Tommy tells him about his disastrous dates, about the first guy he hooked up with, a guy that wasn't as patient and soothing and delicate as Tommy has been with him when they had sex for the first time. Buck listens as Tommy bares his soul to him, crying his eyes out and handing him parts of him he kept hidden for years.

Buck listens to him patiently, and holds him, murmuring promises into his ears. I love you, all of you, even those parts you hate. I'm not going anywhere, I'll take care of you, I'll show you how much I love you every day. You are everything I've always wanted. I'm here, I got you, I have your back. I love you. I love you.

For the first time, in that kitchen, with Tommy still crying into his arms, Buck realizes that yeah, Tommy handed him the missing piece of his heart but he did the same for Tommy. He realizes that they healed each other, and there's a reason why it never worked with anyone else before.

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 #bucktommy discourse #buck and tommy #tevan #kinley #allie rambles #idk what this is but probably a ficlet

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nadvs · 23 hours

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push and pull (part two) (end)

pairing twin!rafe x female reader x twin!zach

summary life felt complicated enough when you started falling for zach. then you meet rafe. he’s the complete opposite of his twin brother, but he captures your attention just the same.

content warnings alcohol use, mental illness, mentions of parental abandonment

» intro post | part one

» masterlist

When Zach wakes up the next morning, he fully understands the term hangxiety.

His temples pound as he stares at his ceiling. At some point last night, he slipped from tipsy into drunk.

Thankfully, he didn’t get so wasted that he’s forgetting anything. But then again, that means every time he made an ass of himself is a memory etched into his brain.

He remembers welcoming his date. Having a decent time with her. Walking her downstairs. Her lips on his cheek when she kissed him goodbye. Feeling like something was missing, and then, that something wasn’t missing anymore when you came downstairs to let him in.

And he remembers looking over at you across the party. Wishing he was next to you. Feeling crappy for thinking about you while he was with another girl. Knowing he was idiot for thinking he could ignore his feelings for you and date someone else.

Talking to you in the elevator. Crap.

He buries his head into his pillow. Why did he blabber to you like that? His brother would kill him if he knew what he said. He probably already wants to kill him for loudly proclaiming how much he loves him in the hallway. Rafe’s not one for any sort of PDA.

Zach picks up his phone to text you: Trauma dumping to you was just a dream I had, right? Please tell me it didn’t actually happen.

You reply minutes later: you mean in the elevator? definitely a dream.

Despite his embarrassment, he smiles at his screen.

He replies: Sorry about that.

You send another text: it’s no problem. i’m guessing you have a pretty bad hangover.

He replies: Everything hurts.

You text back: make sure to hydrate and rest ok?

Zach smiles again. He can’t help but daydream about you coming over, taking care of him, cuddling him.

He’s worried about the consequences of things going wrong if he got into a relationship with you. But God, does he want you.

He replies: Ok :)

When he eventually leaves his bedroom, he sees Rafe lounging on the couch, still in his pajamas. Surprisingly, his brother actually tidied up.

It gives him hope that Rafe really is trying to improve himself. He’s had his fair share of meltdowns and Zach’s had a front row seat to all of them, watching his brother break down into tears, spiralling into his toxic, self-hating thoughts.

Once he calms down, every time, Rafe talks about how he knows he’s not a good person, that he wants to be better. But then, he sticks to his bad habits. He never gets the help he needs, even though Zach encourages him to.

Nonetheless, Zach never saw the bad in Rafe that he’s so adamant is there. At his worst, he can be violent, drunkenly throwing punches at parties, but Zach knows it’s a result of his emotional scars.

“Shit,” Rafe chuckles when he sees Zach. “You’re alive.”

“Barely.” Zach sinks onto the other side of the couch, closing his eyes as he tilts his head back. “You cleaned up for once.”

“Did you just say for once? I’m always cleaning up, asshole,” he mutters, making Zach laugh.

“I hope the neighbors don’t hate us,” Zach says. “The party got kinda loud last night.”

“This guy’s thinking about the neighbors,” Rafe says with a scoff. “The girl you were with looked like she was into you. Bet she would’ve stayed the night.”

“Maybe,” Zach says with a shrug, thinking back to his date.

Then, Rafe says he thinks you might be into him, too, considering he caught you staring. And Zach’s pulse picks up.

He loves and hates hearing that. Because if you really do like him back, it’s exciting, but that makes it even more crushing that he can’t pursue anything.

“Maybe,” Zach echoes.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Rafe laughs, thinking about how good you looked last night. “I’d jump on that if I had the chance.”

“But you don’t have the chance,” Zach murmurs. “If you love me, you won’t jump on any of my friends.”

Zach sits up and looks at his brother.

“By the way, you never said you love me back last night. I’m still waiting.”

“Yeah,” Rafe snorts. “You can keep waiting.”

────୨ৎ────

On Monday morning, you finally get a response from a student you found online who’s selling a used textbook you need.

You’d rather not go by yourself, so you text the group chat: i need to go to a stranger’s house to buy a textbook tonight. is anyone down to tag along so i’m not alone?

To your relief, Zach texts the group a minute later: I got you :)

That evening, you’re knocking on his front door. Instead of Zach, though, Rafe answers.

“Hi,” you say. “Is Zach around? He’s supposed to come with me to pick a textbook up.”

“Haven’t heard him since he got home,” he says, turning to look up the stairs. “I’ll get him.”

A minute later, Rafe comes down, keys jingling in his hand.

“He’s sleeping,” he says. “I can take you. I was about to go for a drive anyway.”

“Cool,” you say. “Thanks.”

You watch him lean over to slip on his sneakers, his frame broad and tall. It’s surprising that Zach, who’s usually reliable, forgot about your plans. And that Rafe, who you’ve come to known as hot and cold, is willing to help you.

He locks the door behind him before you make your way down the hallway together.

“He must be tired after practice,” you say, well aware of the team’s training schedule.

“Yeah, when he’s asleep, he’s out.”

You smirk to yourself, imagining Zach adorably bundled up in his bed. You already know he’s going to apologize profusely once he realizes he accidentally bailed on you.

“It’s only ten minutes away,” you tell Rafe. “I just wanted someone with me since it’s some random guy I don’t know selling it.”

“Zach didn’t offer to just buy a new one for you?” he asks.

“No,” you laugh, entering the elevator. “Why would he?”

Rafe doesn’t get Zach sometimes. It’s insane that he’s not into you, that he sleeps through plans with you, that he doesn’t offer to buy you something that probably only costs a few hundred dollars.

“Want me to?” Rafe asks. You have to laugh.

“It’s okay,” you say. “I already set all this up. Do you always offer to buy girls school supplies?”

He bites his tongue. If Zach wasn’t so adamant about m not being allowed to try to hook up with you, he’d flirt and say yes, he buys all kinds of things for beautiful girls.

“Not always,” he settles for.

The elevator doors open. You enter the parking garage and follow Rafe to his car, settling into the cushioned passenger seat. He starts the engine, then offers the cable hooked up his radio to you.

“Already know you have good taste,” Rafe says. You smile, plugging your phone in.

You’re Zach’s friend, but he figures you can be his friend, too. Because he wants to get to know what he can about you, to flatter you and joke with you and talk to you, even though the night won’t be ending with you in his bed. He has fun with you. He’ll take what he can get.

He backs out of his parking spot, putting his hand against the back of your headrest as he looks through the rear window. You gaze up at his profile, taking in just how handsome he is, how nice his cologne smells.

Rafe doesn’t know the song you put on, but he likes it. He turns forward in his seat, driving out of the garage.

You chat about your days and even though it’s small-talk, it doesn’t feel like it. There’s an ease with Rafe that you can’t really compare to with anyone else.

Still, he’s kind of intimidating, but you naturally want to keep challenging this way he makes you feel, cracking the wall he has up.

When you reach the house at the end of a dark street, Rafe parks in the driveway, turns his key and takes it out of ignition.

“You can wait here,” you offer.

“Nah,” he mumbles. He unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

With Rafe standing behind you as you knock on the front door, the feeling of him protecting you is intoxicating, making your heart pound harder.

The door swings open and you greet the man you’ve been messaging. He’s holding the textbook you need and when you offer him four twenties, he looks through the bills and shakes his head.

“We said $100,” he says.

“No,” you reply. “$80. You said $80 was good.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I have the texts to prove it,” you laugh in disbelief.

“Really, man?” Rafe mutters. “Just give her the book.”

“$100,” he repeats.

“Forget it,” Rafe says. He steps forward, roughly taking your money out of his hand and pulling you by the waist. “I’ll just get you a new one.”

“No, wait,” the guy calls. “$80’s fine.”

“Get fucked,” Rafe mutters. You follow him to the car, still mentally catching up to what just happened. “Trying to scam you over twenty dollars. What a joke.”

You settle in the car, feeling Rafe’s warm, big hand curl your fingers open so he can give you your money back.

He’s fuming, beyond pissed off that someone would try to trick you like that. He’s glad you didn’t come by yourself to have to deal with this idiot alone. And he’s not sure how Zach would’ve handled it.

“How much is a new book?” he asks.

“Like, $250,” you tell him.

“I got it covered, alright?” he says. “Give me your phone.”

You comply, still a little jarred but appreciating how quickly he swept in to help you. You watch him enter digits, call himself to get your number, then hang up.

He returns your phone and takes his out, taps on your number, and quickly opens up a bank app.

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

“It’s fine.”

Within a minute, he sends you $250. It’s bizarre how he’s acting like that much money is nothing. Like he’s giving you change he owes you.

Rafe exhales slowly, starting his car again, coming down from the daze. This happens a lot. It’s like he blacks out when he gives in to his impulses.

But what can he do? He has a weak spot for you and he hates the idea of someone doing you wrong, of him not helping you when he’s totally capable of it.

He scratches his forehead. Zach’s words resonate in his head, telling him he needs to cool down and think before he does things. Sometimes his temper flares with no warning.

He’s sure he came off way too intense. He doesn’t know how to apologize for it. Before he can speak, you do.

“Can you come with me every time I have to buy something?” you say lightheartedly. It eases some of the tension in his chest.

“Was that too much?” he says, tone low.

You smile to yourself. You wouldn’t call it too much. He seems like he’s an intense, passionate person. Beneath the surface, Rafe feels more than he lets on.

“You didn’t let a guy con me, then you bought me a $250 book,” you reply with a laugh. “Trust me, you’re good. Thank you.”

Your phone buzzes with a text from Zach as you back out of the driveway. Crap I’m so sorry. I don’t even remember falling asleep. Did you come over?

You reply: all good! i figured you were exhausted. rafe went with me.

“Guess who’s awake,” you say, the smile apparent in your tone. Rafe glances over at your profile as you text back.

He hates this about himself, the envy that pushes him to be sure that Zach is so much better than him. That every girl, if given the chance, would pick his brother over him.

“So, you were going to go for a drive?” you say, tucking your phone away. Because of his kind gestures tonight, you’re pretty sure that he likes hanging out with you. “Want company?”

Rafe taps his hand against the steering wheel. Even if this is just platonic, he doesn’t want you to leave his car.

“If I can pick the music,” he says.

“You said I had good taste.”

“Mine’s better.”

You laugh, and because he held your waist just a few minutes ago, you don’t feel apprehensive to touch him. You nudge his shoulder. He smirks.

An hour goes by like a minute. When Rafe and you part, your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing with him.

You talked together nonstop, touching on the most random subjects, finding similarities and differences. You have a deep crush on him. There’s no denying it.

When Rafe watches you step out of his car, he realizes that this isn’t just attraction like he’s used to. He feels like he knows you. And he likes you. It’s exciting and scary.

When Rafe makes it home, Zach is in the kitchen, the whole loft smelling like delicious food.

“You actually remembered how to get home?” Zach teases over the sound of ingredients sizzling in a pan.

“Lost track of time,” Rafe says. He settles on a barstool as Zach stands at the range, trying not to burn dinner.

Zach is glad his back is to his brother, because when Rafe tells him that he was with you that entire time, driving around and talking, his eyebrows furrow in anger and jealousy before he can subdue it.

“But before you lose your shit,” Rafe adds, “it was all friendly, okay?”

“Right,” Zach mumbles. He stares down at the pan, trying to breathe through his prickly frustration. He’s unbelievably mad at himself for falling asleep after practice.

You can do whatever you want, he knows that, but he feels that even though it’s just as a friend, you’re his, not Rafe’s. And his brother getting to spend time with you feels painfully unfair.

────୨ৎ────

The bright stadium lights pool over the deep green soccer field. It’s a cool evening, perfect for a match.

Cold seeps in through your jeans as you sit on the metal bench on the sideline. You have your phone at the ready to film the team as they rush the field for a home game.

You’ve grown to love your job. You found great friends, the TikTok account is earning more traction, and you’ve started to genuinely enjoy coming out to games and cheering on your school’s team.

It’s been almost a week since your night with Rafe. You haven’t seen him or Zach since. You welcome the distance. Liking them both is ridiculously confusing.

Minutes pass. The crowd is getting louder. The team still isn’t out on the field. Your dad runs a tight ship, so it’s weird that they’re late.

You head into the stadium tunnel towards the locker room, curiosity nagging you. A group of players are standing outside the door and you approach Chance.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“Something’s up with Zach,” Chance tells you. Alarm rushes through you and you step into the locker room without a second thought.

Zach’s sitting on the bench by his locker, hunched over, surrounded by your dad, the team’s medic, and a few other players.

“Is everything okay?” you ask.

Zach looks up at you. His eyes are sunken, his lips parted. And then, he loses consciousness.

When his eyelids flutter open, the brightness of the room is so painful that he has to squint.

“He’s up,” he hears. It’s you. He hasn’t heard your voice in a while. He misses it.

He slowly comes to, realizing he’s in a hospital bed. You’re sitting to his left. The team medic is standing at the end of the bed with a doctor. He’s hooked up to an IV.

“What happened?” he rasps.

“You’re dehydrated,” the medic explains, leaning over to hand a plastic cup of water to Zach. “You’re at Trinity Hospital. You’re okay. Drink.”

Zach weakly picks it up, downing the cool water, his throat feeling raw. He rolls his head to look at you again. He knows it’s wrong, but he’s relieved that you look so concerned for him. That you’re here.

The doctor introduces herself, then explains that Zach was unconscious for so long that she’d prefer to keep him overnight to monitor him.

The news makes everything in him twist with worry and frustration. He just wants to go home. He doesn’t want Rafe to spiral.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m alright, though?”

“I’m not worried,” the doctor replies. “I just want to be sure you’re in good shape before I send you home.”

Within a few minutes, the doctor leaves the room. Then, the medic encourages Zach to drink more fluids, calls the coach to update him, and asks if you want to head back together now that you’re sure Zach’s okay.

You politely decline. You’re too worried to leave him alone so fast. And shortly after, it’s just you two in the room, listening to the beeps of Zach’s pulse.

“Dehydrated?” you say playfully, but still worried. “What the hell, Cameron?”

“I know,” he says with a smile. He regrets going hard at the gym today. He’s sure that’s what did it. “Rookie move.”

“I specifically told you to hydrate like, two days ago.”

Zach’s laugh is boyish. He reaches for your hand and squeezes. You remind yourself it’s likely nothing more than a friendly gesture.

“That was hangover advice,” he says. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand.

“It was life advice, actually.” You inhale slowly. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He lets go of your hand, remembering you can hear his pulse right now and not wanting to risk you witnessing it beat faster.

“It was way more than two days ago, by the way,” he says. He threads his fingers through his hair, suddenly self-conscious of how bad he must look right now. “Where’ve you been?”

You look down at your lap. You’ve been declining all the invitations to hang out in the group chat because the past few days have been so confusing.

Seeing Zach with another girl was painful, and then, you realized just how unimportant you felt to him when he slept through your plans, even though it was by mistake. You need time and space to stop liking him before you can hang out again.

“School’s been kicking my ass,” you lie.

“Do you need help?” he asks. He’d do anything to have you around again.

“Leave it to you to be in a hospital bed asking if you can help,” you mumble. Zach laughs. You try and fail not to fawn over his perfect smile.

“Did I faint in front of everybody?” he says, fixing his hair again.

“Not everybody,” you half-laugh. “But, seriously, everyone was really worried. We all care about you a lot.”

His heart warms. He may be in the hospital, but right now, he’s grateful for having people who care about him. It’s all he ever wanted.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Zach says softly. “And for staying.”

You nod. You were so worried that you told your dad you were going with the paramedics when they arrived, not even considering that you had work to do, that Zach was already taken care of.

“Of course,” you reply. “You said you don’t like being alone, remember? In that dream you had?”

Zach huffs a laugh and looks away, embarrassed as he thinks about that night in the elevator, but still appreciative.

“Did anyone call my brother?” he asks.

“I texted him that I’m with you at the hospital. He hasn’t replied yet.”

Zach nods and thanks you. He tries not to fixate on the fact that you have Rafe’s number. He looks at the clock hanging on the wall to see it’s late in the evening. He figures Rafe’s out with friends or with a girl, not paying attention to his phone.

He wishes he could just talk to him. With every second that passes, he worries more and more about Rafe’s reaction to him being here.

“I should’ve grabbed your phone from the locker room so you could talk to him directly,” you say regretfully. “But I told Chance to get your things for you after the game. Is there anyone else I should contact?”

Admittedly, you’re bracing yourself for him to mention the girl from the other night. Or any girl, really. But he only shakes his head no.

A nurse comes in to remind you that visiting hours are up soon. Zach sits up, visibly on edge, asking her when he can have visitors tomorrow. She tells him 9 a.m.

Knowing he won’t be able to see his brother in person tonight makes him anxious.

After the nurse leaves, Zach frantically asks if he can send a voice-note to Rafe on your phone. You open the conversation and hand your phone to Zach, noticing the nervous way he’s chewing on his lip.

“Hey,” he says into the speaker. “It’s nothing. I passed out from dehydration and I’m at Trinity and they’re keeping me overnight just to be sure I’m good, but the doctor’s not worried.”

His eyes flit to you and he swallows hard.

“This is nothing like the last time, okay? I know your mind’s gonna go there and this is not even close,” he continues. “You can come see me at nine tomorrow. And you better bring me food.”

Zach ends the recording, sends it, and gives you back your phone.

“Thanks,” he breathes. You nod, your eyebrows knitting in confusion and worry.

“Sure,” you say. “Is there anything I can do?”

Zach scratches the back of his neck.

“When he answers, please tell him that you saw for yourself that I’m okay,” he says. “He might be a little freaked out.”

You agree, not wanting to pry, and start to collect your things. There’s no television in the room and you feel bad that Zach’ll be left alone with nothing to entertain him. You want to help.

You tell him you’ll be right back, then rush downstairs at a vending machine you saw when you came in. After, you drop by the gift shop. It’s closed, the flowers and balloons locked up, but you’re still able to pick up a book sitting on a rack.

You leave behind more than enough cash for the book on the counter and go back to Zach’s room.

“Snacks,” you say breathlessly when you enter, dropping the bags of chips and candy and the paperback on the bed, “and a book. Hopefully, this’ll keep you entertained. And don’t tell my dad about the junk food. You know how he is about an athlete’s diet.”

Zach smiles at you, his eyes soft. With everything you’ve done tonight, you could simply be showing what a good friend you are, but what if you feel something for him, too?

The mention of his coach is reminder enough of why he doesn’t pursue this. It could get messy. But maybe he should be more like his brother. Taking risks. Allowing himself to do what he wants to do.

“I should go,” you sigh, looking at the clock. “Feel better, okay? We don’t stand a chance of winning without you.”

He laughs, his eyes lingering on you.

“Thanks,” Zach says. You turn to leave. He stops you with a gentle, “Hey.”

You stop, turning back to look at him. Zach takes you in, how good he feels when you’re around, how there’s still a little bit of worry written into your cute features.

He won’t tell you that he wants to you to be his girlfriend. Not like this, when he’s hooked up to monitors, stuck in a bed. He’ll do it when he’s out of here. He’ll do it when he can hold your face in his hands and tell you how much you mean to him.

“Seriously, thank you,” he tells you. “You’re amazing.” You smile at him again. If only he knew how much his words mean to you.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

You’re pacing through the parking lot when your phone buzzes. It’s Rafe calling you. You answer quickly. He says your name, his voice strained.

“I’m here. Is it too late to see him?”

“Yeah, visiting hours are over. I’m just leaving now,” you say, looking around the dark lot in case you can spot him. “But, honestly, he’s okay.”

“Does he…” Rafe pauses. “I think I see you.”

You approach each other under the starry sky, meeting by a line of parked cars.

His eyes are glossy. He’s been crying. No wonder Zach was so worried. He must have known the effect this would have on his brother. There’s more to this than you realize.

“Hi,” you say softly, ending the call. “It’s okay. He’s acting totally like himself.”

“He doesn’t have his phone?”

“No,” you say. “But I made sure someone’ll pick his stuff up for him.”

“What happened?”

“Before the game tonight, he was in the locker room and he looked really tired,” you explain. “He passed out, but he was already sitting and someone caught him, so he didn’t hit his head or anything. They have him on an IV and drinking lots of fluids.”

“Okay,” he mutters. “Fuck. I was at a bar and I wasn’t checking my phone… I got into a cab as fast as I could.”

“It’s okay,” you console him. “He’s good. He was more worried about you than himself.”

Rafe sighs, hands on his hips as he looks down and paces back and forth, hair hanging over his head. You can hear him panting.

“He was worried about me?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d he say?” Rafe asks the question the same tense way he did the night of the party. He’s so closed off, clearly upset at the thought of you knowing anything he doesn’t want you to know.

“I heard the voice-note he sent you,” you admit, “and he said you might be freaked out, but he didn’t tell me anything else. I didn’t ask. It’s not my business.”

Rafe chews on his lip the same nervous way Zach does. For once, you see a similarity between them.

His breathing gets even shallower. He rests his hands on the rear window of the van parked next to him. His body curls forward. His skin is flushed.

You step a little closer, searching his face in the light of the lamps lining the parking lot. He’s distraught.

“Rafe,” you say quietly.

His stare is on the ground, his chest heaving now. Something bad has been triggered in him.

“Hey,” you say.

“You can go home now,” he mutters breathlessly.

“I’m not leaving you like this,” you say. You take a risk, placing a hand on his back, feeling it rise and fall quickly.

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” you say evenly. “I get that this is scary, but I promise you, everything’s okay. Zach is okay.”

Rafe’s chest is tight. His veins are made of ice. He feels like punching something. He hates this familiar loss of control, this shock of the world crumbling around him with no warning.

Yet while he thought that he’d hate someone touching him like this, that he’d hate being so vulnerable, he actually feels a little better.

You continue to rub his back, sweetly and tenderly. The touches he shares with girls are never like this. They’re always superficial, fuelled by lust. But this feels like real, sincere care.

“You took a cab here?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he rasps.

“Did you talk to the driver?”

“What?”

“Did you?” you say. “What kind of car was it?”

It’s all in an effort to distract him, and while Rafe stammers his way through his answers about the driver and the car and the bar he was at, you notice his breathing start to even out.

Minutes later, his heart isn’t racing as fast. His chest isn’t as tight. He can think clearer.

He’s embarrassed, but relieved you were here to talk him down before he ran into the hospital and demanded to see his brother. He now realizes how bad that could’ve gone.

“I don’t…” he stammers. He doesn’t know how to say that this doesn’t happen all that often, that this is a piece of him he typically buries deep from everyone.

“What?”

“You probably think I’m crazy.” Saying the word out loud hurts more than he expected. It’s what he’s felt all his life, that something isn’t wired right in his brain.

“No. I get it,” you say. You shake your head. “I mean, I don’t know what happened, but… I’m guessing he was in the hospital for something before, right?”

Rafe meets your eyes, straightening.

“I get why you’re freaked out,” you say. “I would be, too. Memories can mess with us.”

The way you just calmed him down, the sympathy in your tone, the alcohol swimming in his system are what push him to actually be honest with someone for once in a long time.

“We almost lost him,” he admits. “A long time ago.”

Your face falls in sorrow, eyes searching his face. He looks down at the ground, too uncomfortable to meet your gaze again.

“I almost lost him,” Rafe mumbles, his voice thin. Because, really, he knows he would’ve felt the loss the hardest. His brother is the most important person in his life. Always has been.

And to lose him, someone so irreplaceable, someone he was with from the moment he was a living thing, would kill him. Zach’s right, even though he’s joking, that Rafe doesn’t tell him he loves him enough.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “How old were you?”

“Fourteen,” Rafe says.

It was mere months after their mother abandoned them, saying she couldn’t stay with their father anymore, that she did everything she could do as a mom, that she was done.

It left a hole in Rafe that he feels every day. If Zach feels it, he does an incredible job hiding it.

He still doesn’t know what the final straw was. Why fourteen years of her sons’ lives was enough for her. How could a parent decide that they had enough of their kids forever?

She wasn’t the best mom, unpredictable and erratic, but he loved her. There had to be something wrong with her mind for her to act like that. To leave. Something that Rafe is sure skipped Zach and was passed on to him.

“That’s so young,” you say sadly.

“He was really sick for a while.” Rafe’s heart twists thinking about it.

How a freak case of pneumonia had Zach bedridden, his lungs fighting to keep breathing. How mad Rafe was at his brother, as if he did it on purpose. How sure he was that in some twisted way, his mother’s sudden abandonment triggered it.

He still regrets how he acted when Zach was discharged. He couldn’t talk to him for days. He was too angry for scaring him into thinking he was going to lose his best friend, his anchor.

“How long?” you ask.

“Weeks,” Rafe tells you. “And you know Zach. He kept telling everyone he was fine. Even as a kid, he didn’t want people to worry about him.”

“He is like that, isn’t he?” you say with a soft chuckle. Since you met Zach, you quickly learned he dismisses any notion of needing any sort of help. “But I promise, this isn’t one of those cases. I saw for myself. He’s good. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Rafe nods quickly, finally looking at you.

“You’ll see him tomorrow,” you say with a small smile, sad but touched that he opened up to you like this. “Until then, just try to relax.”

Rafe loves the feeling of your hand on him. He can’t remember the last time he loved someone’s touch. If he ever even did.

He’s keeping his promise to Zach. He won’t hook up with you. Because he wants more than that. He wants to know you and for you to know him. He wants you to stay the night, every night. He wants you to be his.

And he needs to be sure you don’t feel anything for his brother.

“Are you and him…” He swallows hard. “Is there anything there?”

Your forehead crinkles in confusion. Zach had told you that his brother was his best friend. You’re sure he would’ve told him if he felt something for you.

If he has to ask, Zach must not talk about you much at all. You’re nothing but a friend to him. Although you do have feelings for him, you were right to be apprehensive from the start. He doesn’t like you like that.

“No,” you finally say.

Rafe nods. At least there’s no unrequited feelings on either side. He must have been reading into things, imagining you looking at his brother a certain way.

“You wanna grab some food?” Rafe asks impulsively.

You agree. Right now, there’s nothing else you’d rather do.

Rafe’s been on a handful of dates before, but sitting across from you at a quiet late-night diner, sobering up, getting to know you more and more makes him feel like he’s living in a dream.

He’s never felt this way about a girl before. Scared in a good way. Slowly, he opens up little by little, peeling back layers of the wall he’s been hiding behind for years.

He shares what happened with his mom. How Zach was the strong one, while Rafe acted out and made his life hell. You take in every word, seeing just how much guilt and shame and pain he carries around.

You open up, too, sharing things you don’t tell many people. He’s a good listener, and the eyes you thought didn’t have much hope behind them at first aren’t cold at all by the end of the night.

It’s one in the morning when you part ways. Rafe shares a cab with you, making sure you get dropped off first, watching you step through the front door.

Everything in him wants to invite you to his place, but things are going to be different with you. He won’t rush into numbing himself with sex like he always does, because he refuses to be numb or absent or checked out with you in any way.

────୨ৎ────

“What kind of grown man forgets to drink water?”

Zach looks up from his orange juice to see Rafe walking into his hospital room.

He chuckles, asking Rafe not to give him shit for this because you already did. The mention of your name makes Rafe’s heart feel lighter in this tense moment.

Because of how good it felt to be so open with you last night, expressing just how important Zach is to him, remembering everything they’d gone through together, Rafe doesn’t shy away from leaning over to hug his brother, who stiffens in his bed.

“Uh, good morning to you, too?” Zach laughs. “Is this a hug? What the hell? Who are you?”

“I love you, too,” Rafe mumbles, pulling back and holding up a paper bag of breakfast for him. “And I got you your food, princess.”

“You try eating hospital food,” Zach replies, taking the bag, feeling ravenous.

Rafe settles on the chair, remembering his brother at fourteen, picking apart at the food they served him with a look of disgust, yet telling the nurses ‘it’s good, thank you’ when they asked if he was enjoying his meal.

Rafe urged his dad to bring his brother home-cooked food almost every day of his hospital stay. It was one of the little ways he showed up for Zach, taking care of him instead of the other way around for once.

“What’d the doctor say?” Rafe asks. “Do you feel better?”

“She hasn’t come to see me yet, but I feel totally fine.” Zach digs into his breakfast. “How are you?”

Rafe looks down at his lap, sighing before he speaks.

“I freaked out,” Rafe admits. Zach stills. “She told me you said I would and you were right. But, man… she knew exactly what to do.”

“It happened when you were with her?” Zach knows what Rafe’s breakdowns look like. He has full-blown panic attacks. He’s nearly inconsolable. He wonders how jarring that must have been for you.

“Out in the parking lot,” he says. “It was just too much. All that shit came rushing back.”

Rafe shrugs, defeated. Sometimes, he’s able to give into the fact that he can do nothing but surrender to the chaos in his mind. He felt safe doing it in front of you last night. He felt safe every second he was with you.

“Are you okay now?” Zach asks. He notices the hint of a smile in Rafe’s face. A brightness he hasn’t seen in him in a long time.

“Yeah,” Rafe says. “I gotta ask you something, though.”

“What?”

“Does ‘off limits’ mean I can’t date her?”

“Date her?” Zach repeats, in disbelief. “You want to date her? Like, commit to her? You don’t commit to anyone.”

Rafe breathes a chuckle, pursing his lips.

“Well, now, I want to.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

Rafe looks like he got rid of a ten-ton weight that was sitting on his shoulders. He’s relaxed. He’s content. Zach can’t remember the last time he saw him like this.

Zach became hyperaware of other people’s emotions at a young age. When their parents would argue, he saw what it did to Rafe, who would shut down and lash out. Zach would distract his brother in every way he could.

Then their mom left and it became ten times harder to keep Rafe steady. But Zach did it and he never stopped trying. Because helping others, putting their feelings first, really does make Zach happy.

But right now, he feels really far from happy.

He looks down at his food. He had it all planned out. He’d get in his best clothes, find a nice place to take you, give you a whole speech about how he hasn’t stopped thinking about you for days and how happy you make him and how happy he could make you.

“She feels the same way? Did something happen between you?” Zach asks. His chest is a hole. A pit.

“Nothing happened,” Rafe says, scratching the back of his neck.

It was nearly impossible for Rafe not to give into the impulse to hold your hand in the booth you sat at together last night and tell you how pretty you are and how much fun he has with you.

But he really does want to be a better person. He wants to think before he acts. And that means checking in with Zach that he’s okay with this, considering how tense he is about Rafe getting involved with his friends.

“But I think she might like me, too,” Rafe says. “And I made sure she’s not into you. I guess I was just reading into stuff before.”

That’s the moment Zach’s heart breaks. He licks his lips, his stare low. So, you would’ve just rejected him.

“You really like her?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah,” Rafe says.

“Why?”

“Don’t make me be corny,” he groans.

Zach’s head is pounding. He wants to be mad at Rafe. But he had so many opportunities to tell him that he likes you, and he was too chicken to admit it. And now, his brother is falling for you. And he looks so happy doing it.

“You’re gonna have to be corny,” Zach says. “I need to be sure you’re not just messing around.”

Rafe sighs. It’s always Zach doing this, gushing over a girl, freaking out over if she hasn’t texted him back, getting all nervous before a date. Rafe used to tease him about it. He gets it now, though.

“You suck,” Rafe scoffs, tensing up. It’s hard for him to talk like this, but he forces the words out. “I don’t know. I like who I am when I’m around her. And it’s… when she’s in the room, everything’s better, you know?”

“Yeah,” Zach says. He knows. He feels the exact same way.

“Is that corny enough for you?” Rafe says with a scoff. “Are you cool with this or no?”

Zach chews his food slowly only to buy time before he has to speak again. He’s trying to act unbothered and it’s working, considering how in the clouds Rafe seems.

He has no idea that Zach is falling for you. Because he’s too busy doing it, too.

He meets his brother’s eyes. He takes a deep breath. And, because Rafe’s happiness has always been more important to him than his own, he gives him his blessing.

“Go for it,” Zach says. “And don’t hurt her.”

He’s never felt so bitter. He hates that he hopes you’ll have a change of heart. He hates that he feels like he’d treat you better. He hates all of this. But he stays silent.

────୨ৎ────

You’re having a late breakfast when Zach replies to your text asking to keep you updated.

Doctor cleared me. I’m home and I got my stuff from Chance. Thanks for everything.

His message is cold compared to how he usually texts. But maybe he’s just tired from the hospital stay.

You gaze out your window, thinking about everything that happened last night. Rafe isn’t as different from Zach as you first thought. Behind his hard exterior, he’s sensitive and gentle and so badly wants to be loved.

He confessed to feeling like something was missing in him since he can remember. The look in his eyes when you told him that to you, he seems perfectly whole, is one you won’t forget.

Being with him for hours was a wonderful haze. You didn’t want to part. He made you feel heard. It’s a joy that you’ve been lacking for a long time.

Minutes later, Rafe texts you asking if he can take you out to dinner tonight. You smile at your screen. You love how you don’t have to wonder about if he wants you.

The restaurant he drives you to is lavish and elegant. Rafe is unbelievably handsome across the table over the candlelight, his dark button-up making his eyes look all the more blue. Your stomach is full of butterflies, yet a sense of calm fills you when you’re with him.

You pick up where you left off, conversation flowing without any effort. He looks at you like you put the stars in the sky. You’re sure you look at him the same way.

When Rafe pulls the car up to your place, in an effort to keep you from leaving right away, he presses his palm against the back of your hand.

“Did you have a good time?” he asks, tone low, adorably nervous.

“Of course. Did you?”

Rafe chuckles at the question. Good doesn’t begin to cover it.

“You’re…” he begins.

“I’m what?” you laugh.

He squeezes your hand gently, turning it so he can lace his fingers with yours. The contact is warm, his ring hard but smooth against your skin. Your heart pounds in your ears as he stares at you.

“Beautiful,” he says. “In every way.”

His tone is sincere and firm. He says it like it’s a fact.

“And I want to keep doing this,” he says. “Seeing you. If you want to keep seeing me, too.”

“I do,” you say. When he leans forward, his kiss is soft but hungry, making your mind spin.

Zach fakes a headache when Rafe gets home. All he needs to hear is that the date went well. He doesn’t want the details.

────୨ৎ────

You’re wrapped in Rafe’s arms, your back flush against his chest, as music and chatter float through the air around you.

You’re settled on his couch, talking with your friends as the party rages. Rafe’s still getting used to what it means to be a boyfriend, tense and quiet around your friends, but he’d get used to anything if it meant making you happy.

You’ve only been dating a few weeks, but he’s sure if this isn’t love, he’s damn close to it. Aside from his brother, you’re his best friend.

You smile when you feel Rafe’s lips press against the side of your neck. He’s ridiculously affectionate, touching you whenever he can, spoiling you, whispering sweet things to you all the time. He’s completely unguarded.

Zach’s in the kitchen, as far away from you as he physically can be. After the hospital, he hasn’t been himself at all. You can tell he’s trying to be, though, forcing smiles around you.

It makes no sense. He called you amazing that night. But, then, he pulled away. It’s like he’s mad at you for dating his brother, but he refuses to admit it.

You’ve asked him multiple times if things are good between you. He reassured you over and over that they are.

Maybe someone else would believe him, but after you pined for him for so long, you can read when he’s trying to hide that he’s upset. At parties, at casual get-togethers, even at work when you’re making content for the team, he’s absent-minded and disinterested.

And whatever’s wrong, he prefers to hold inside.

Nonetheless, while your feelings for Zach have faded, you genuinely hope he’s happy and that you can be friends with him again one day.

The next morning, you wake up in Rafe’s bed. His arm is around your waist, his breath warm against your back. He’s still snoozing when you slip out of bed to get water.

Zach’s sitting at the kitchen island, staring down at his coffee. It’s almost funny how just over three months ago, you were here for the first time, yearning for Zach to give you a hint that he liked you. Now, you’re falling for Rafe.

“Morning,” you say kindly.

Zach looks up from his coffee. His smile doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey.”

You open the fridge, the awful feeling he’s been giving you lately sitting heavy on your heart. He makes you feel unwelcome, which is something you never expected from him.

“Just getting some water,” you say, searching through the shelves. “He’s definitely gonna wake up with a headache.”

Zach tenses. You’re doing for Rafe what he daydreamed you doing for him. Sharing a bed with him, nursing his hangover, touching him and smiling at him and giving him what Zach would die for.

You look so pretty in the morning, your bedhead adorable, your pajamas complimenting your figure. Why won’t his heart just catch up with his mind? He keeps telling himself to get over you.

He notices that you have Rafe’s ring on your finger. He used to imagine you wearing his things. He’d love to see you in his team hoodie. But he never will.

In another world, you’re in this kitchen as his girlfriend, talking about last night’s party, sharing kisses and laughs. But not in this world.

“I never asked you,” you say, your back to him, “how was that book I got you?”

You hope it serves as a reminder for how much you did for him and how much you care about him. It hurts, the way he’s been keeping you at a distance.

Late at night, as your mind drifts away from you when you try to fall asleep, you’ve considered the possibility of Zach being upset because he’s jealous of Rafe and wants to be with you.

But Rafe told you he checked with Zach to make sure your relationship was okay with him and he even said he didn’t feel anything for you. Maybe Zach thinks you’re not good enough for his brother and he’s too nice to actually say it out loud.

“Good,” Zach says.

You grab two water bottles and close the fridge door. One word is all he’s willing to say to you.

You can’t do it again. You can’t ask him for the hundredth time if you did something wrong, just for him to say you didn’t and he’s sorry that he made you feel like you did.

You leave him alone in the kitchen, padding up the stairs. Zach looks down at his coffee again. His eyes are starting to burn with tears.

He wants to remind his brother that they agreed they wouldn’t let people overstay. And you being here for even one night feels like overstaying. He can’t have you and every time he’s reminded of that, it hurts.

He can’t stop thinking about that night in the elevator and wishing that instead of drunkenly rambling about his brother, he rambled about his feelings for you. At least then, everything would have been out in the open long before you really got to know Rafe.

The girl he met through the video messaged him last night, asking if he was up to hang out again. She’s cute and nice. But she’s not you. And it’d be wrong to pursue someone just to numb the pain of not having you.

That’s all he wants. You. And because he was such a coward, he’ll never have you. Maybe at some point, he had a chance. Maybe you would have grown feelings for him if he was honest with you.

But you seem happy. So does Rafe, who actually wants hold you and kiss you in public. He was never like that with any other girl.

Zach realizes that while he was always so sure he coped with everything that life hurled at them better than Rafe, he wasn’t paying attention to how destructive he is to himself. His martyrdom was never a virtue.

He’s too late. He self-sabotaged. He has nobody to blame for his aching loneliness but himself. That’s the most heartbreaking part of this whole thing.

Rafe’s hair is tousled, his smile lazy when you come back to bed.

“Thought you left me,” he murmurs tiredly into your hair, pulling you tight against his warm body. You smile, your cheek pressed against his chest, breathing in his comforting scent.

Rafe’s sure you can feel his pulse on your cheek. He feels like you own every beat of his heart.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” you tell him.

The tension from what happened downstairs leaves your system. You swallow down the tears that threatened to fall when you left the kitchen.

You plant a kiss on Rafe’s chest. You know where you’re wanted. And you’re happiest staying there.

(the end)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n #zach maclaren and you #zach maclaren and reader #zach maclaren and y/n #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x reader

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mirisss · 1 day

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SKZ reaction to their s/o being a loud introvert (ISTP)

SKZ x gn! ISTP reader

Thank you so much for the request 🐹! I hope you and everyone else enjoy it!

I tried to write as best as I could and I hope I did it justice.

I also apologize for switching POV/writing style in the middle of this but for some reason it felt better writing these two styles for the different reactions.

Warnings: None I think, maybe a slight mention of shyness, possibly a bit of anxiety if you squint.

Wordcount ≈ 1k

Bang Chan, Changbin, Felix, Han

These four would find it adorable that their s/o was comfortable enough around them to just act however they wanted to. When around strangers (Y/n) would be more quiet, keeping close to their boyfriend, and anxious about meeting new people. However, when it was just (Y/n) and Chan/Binnie/Felix/Han or maybe the other boys around, (Y/n) would be loud and outgoing, feeling safe and comfortable in their presence. Chan/Binnie/Felix/Han all felt their hearts swell with pride and love as they knew they were a safe space for their s/o, just as (Y/n) was for them.

Han related so much to how (Y/n) acts as they are quite similar personality-wise, so he understands why they sometimes don’t talk as they usually would if someone new is around or if there’s a large group of people. Though he loves that both he and (Y/n) can be outgoing and loud with each other, while it might be harder once the two are out alone as both are introverted, usually Han finds some courage in himself to be the more extroverted one but sometimes (Y/n) is the one to do that. No matter who is the more extroverted one, they both need the other to stand close by, holding their hand, so they don’t have to do it all on their own.

Changbin loves to talk and do things, he’s not afraid to make a fool of himself so he loves it when (Y/n) can act silly with him, whenever they are out and (Y/n) goes into quiet introvert mode, Changbin is their number 1 protector, always observing their body language and the second he sees them being uncomfortable, he’s picking up his jacket, ready to leave.

Felix might be an extrovert but many times he’s quite calm, compared to some others in his group, but with (Y/n) he always matches their energy, ready to be whatever they need. If (Y/n) needs him to be super energetic and bouncing off the walls with them, he’ll do it, if (Y/n) needs some quiet time just cuddling and watching a movie, he’s on the couch with open arms ready for a movie marathon. He loves the moments when they’re being silly and loud together but as physical touch and quality time is a big thing for him as well, he truly cherishes their quiet time.

Chan is a combination of all three boys above, he is a man who will do everything he can to make sure his s/o is safe, comfortable, and happy, so if that means (Y/n) distracting him from work sometimes with random conversations or sudden exclamations, or him being the one to make every phone call for (Y/n), he doesn’t mind it. As long as he gets to be with you, he’s happy to do anything.

Minho, Seungmin, Hyunjin, Jeongin

These four are wildcards, sometimes you can’t keep them quiet, and other times they’ll just be sitting in the chaos observing the world around them. So having a s/o that is similar to them but also often quite loud when it’s just the two of them or when they are around friends they feel safe with, is shocking at times. It’s easy to forget that your s/o is an introvert when they have been screaming song into the mic at the karaoke for the last 2 hours without a care in the world, but then they are reminded of the introvert they love as they are too shy to order a drink on their own.

Minho thinks it’s kind of cute and fits well with him, he’s often laid back, preferring to observe the chaos rather than participate in it, a man who loves doing acts of service so ordering a drink for you is just the perfect way for him to show his love for you. Seungmin is similar to Minho when it comes to the acts of service, of course, he’ll sing a song with you, oh you wanna sing it in a silly way, of course, he’ll do that, you want an iced tea and you’re too scared to order it on your own, he’s on it, he’ll even throw in an order for a dessert for you.

Hyunjin doesn’t understand where you find the energy to run around chasing Han throughout the dorm as you both laugh loudly, he isn’t even sure how this chase started but he will sit on the couch, smiling to himself as he sees the wide smile and the sparkle in your eyes, he loves seeing you like this, just living your best life, and then once you’ve calmed down a little, you go over to him, sitting down in his lap as he wraps his arms around, putting his chin on your shoulder, “Hey love, having fun?” “Yeah, how about you?” “I’m having a wonderful time watching you laugh and smile like this, wish I could paint it, you look so beautiful,”

Jeongin loves running around with his members, acting like a child, what he loves even more than that is when you join in on the playing. Running around playing with water guns, spraying each other, laughing, screaming, other people around on the beach only sigh and shake their heads at the nine young adults acting like 5-year-olds. “Want to go buy some ice cream?” He asks to try and get some alone time with you, “Of course!” The two of you walk away to the ice cream truck, you excitedly look at all the flavors, deciding on (flavor), and Jeongin decided on his own favorite flavor, you stand in line, but once it is time to order, you shyly looked at Jeongin who instantly understood that you wished for him to order for you which he happily does all the time.

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hl-obsessed · 1 day

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WARNING! it's a long one - 54 fics listed! 🙈💕✨

•°•°•°•°•°•

✨💎 Lend Me Your Broken Parts by @dizzy-pixie17

(M, 2,4k)It's been five years, but when Lottie doesn't know what else to do to console a hysterical Louis, she calls Harry.

And despite everything, Harry comes.

Look How Well I Play the Bare Truth by Missbeautifullywritten17

(NR, 8,7k) When recently single (to the general public, of course) Harry Styles gets nominated to an Oscar for playing a gay policeman in the 1950s he thinks it is the most wonderful and, at the same time, painful thing it could have happened to him. How is he supposed to say how much Tom and Patrick's story means to him without revealing he is being closeted himself? How is he supposed to go on with his life after receiving the most important award there is for simply playing the bare truth? Well, maybe the rainbow dress he is wearing would be enough of an statement...

Or, the one where Holivia stunt ends, dwd flops and My Policeman gets lots of oscar nominations. Now, it is March 2023, Louis can't be there with him even though his bearding relationship with Eleanor and bbg are already done and he is in the process of coming out himself (apparently, coming out was one thing, but them being a couple... that was perjudicial for their careers and shall remain hidden). So what he does instead is a rbb photocall with the one and only Niall Horan while they watch Harry on the TV screen.

Meanwhile, Harry Styles remembers his past and finds himself on stage with an oscar in hand and, perhaps, his only chance to be free.

Cigarettes and Fuckin’ on the Windowsill by carmelstyle

(NR, 2,4k) Harry comes back from Italy after filming “My Policeman” and stunting. Louis isn’t happy about that last bit.

Or: Sex in front of a window.

Rest in Peace by @stfustucky

(M, 2k) Sometimes, when he looks back on things, there’s a small, angry part of Louis that wishes he’d never met Harry. If he’d just missed that audition, if he’d just stayed in bed, he never would have fallen in love with curly hair and bright green eyes and dimples he’s never gone a day without kissing since. Most times, when he looks back on things, Louis blames himself. The very solar system revolved around Harry and Louis had the closest orbit, flying close enough to feel that warmth in every atom of his body. He should have been paying closer attention, should have opened his eyes and stared into the sun and seen what was happening.

Harry has inoperable brain cancer at the age of 26. Louis watches the love of his life slip away.

guide you home by @nauticalleeds

(G, 0,8k) It’s been a while since Harry’s been able to appreciate the night sky, been a while since his life wasn’t full of hectic schedules and interviews and jet lag. He looks at the sky a little longer, watches the stars blink back at him and thinks about another bright presence he’s been missing.

Taking out his phone from his pocket, he thumbs at his screen to open a new message.

Full moon tonight, he types, and presses send. He keeps the app open, expecting the message to come instantly.

It does.

the peace ring is back in louis' ass? by @greeneyesfriedrice

(E, 1,2k) peace ring adventures with harry and louis! probably not what you expect!

Singing My Name Like Your National Anthem by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(T, 1k) “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Louis just scoffs at that, dismissing Harry quickly yet lovingly in a way that only he has ever seemed to manage. “Good luck getting me to be anywhere else love.”

Harry sighs. “Louis you can’t afford to get sick too. Your album release is next week, you’re booked solid.”

Louis just shrugs. “And if I get sick then we’ll rebook all of it. Or damn it all to Hell for all I care. As much as I want my fans to hear the album, there is nothing more important to me than you.”

✨ Second Time's A Charm by @dizzy-pixie17

(M, 4,7k) “Harry?” Oli Wright said nervously into the phone. “Um… How… how’re you doing?”

Harry’s heart was already picking up speed because there was only one reason Oli ever called him after midnight.

“I’m alright,” Harry answered. “What’s going on? Is it Louis?”

“Uh… yeah,” Oli admitted. “There’s been an accident.”

The one where Harry finds out Louis broke his arm. For the second time in one year.

A Boyfriend for Christmas

(G, 5,5k) Louis' co-worker, Gemma, asks Louis to be her date for Christmas dinner. She needs a fake boyfriend to keep her family from harassing her about her singlehood. Louis adores her, so he doesn't mind helping out--until he meets Gemma's handsome younger brother.

Feeling It Now by @ireallysawanangel

(E, 7k) When Louis hooked up with a hot guy in the bathroom at a music festival, the last thing he was expecting was for that guy to be one of the headlining acts at the festival.

✨ Seal The Deal by @itsnotreal

(NR, 2k) Harry’s been getting Louis Tomlinson’s mail for months, even though he told the mailman that he lived in apartment two and Louis lived in apartment eight.

✨ It's Thursday. Let's Get (un)Dressed by @bananaheathen

(E, 9k) When Louis is peer-pressured into downloading TikTok over the holidays, he fully expects to hate it. And he does hate it. All of it. Well... except for aspiring OOTD influencer, @ harrystyles.

Your Silhouette Over Me by orphan_account

“Alright don’t forget the mission, get Louis laid,” Louis shouted over the music.

“Don’t know who Louis is, but I support it.”

Louis turned towards the contributing voice and saw the bartender leaning in front of him, his elbows resting against the lip of the bar. He had brown hair that fell in loose curls just above his collar bones which were perfectly on show due to the fact that his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his abdomen. The shirt’s sleeves were cuffed up along his inked bicep and the pattern was something that Louis would expect a dad on vacation to wear, not a young bartender.

“He’s Louis,” Zayn said, jutting his thumb in Louis’ direction.

The bartender nodded approvingly, “then I definitely support it.”

~~~~~~

Or the one where Louis went out one night after work, wanting to get laid, and then ended up meeting a bartender named Harry Styles.

you drive me wild (you know you do) by @missandrogyny

(E, 6,6k) Their management informs them that they have an interview right before the ARIAs, and it isn't until he's in a suit, seated on a couch between Liam and Zayn, that he gets the idea.

The interviewer, Angus, smiles at them, right before the cameras roll on, and a metaphorical light bulb goes off inside Louis' head. He's perfect. Well, not as perfect as Harry, but enough. He's attractive, attractive enough to drive Harry crazy, and he doesn't even think of the consequences of his actions, just decides right then. It's all Harry's fault anyway. Louis should be allowed to have a little fun.

(or: Louis flirts with the Australian interviewers and Harry gets possessive.)

Love In Conversation by @hellolovers13

(T, 4,9k) King Arthur Baking Hotline.

Your bread fell flat. Your cookies crumbled. Who do you turn to? The King Arthur Baker’s Hotline.

Louis has a severe baking breakdown.

Thankfully, he gets help from baking-hotline operator Harry.

✨💎 i've secretly always wanted to be yours (and for you to be mine) by @bottomhaztoplou

(M, 1,6k) Harry has just presented. Louis needs to know that he's okay.

Only you by @germericangirl

(E, 4k) Harry comes home from filming a particularly intimate scene for My Policeman. Louis is jealous, Harry doesn’t understand why. They talk it out, more or less…

✨ Whoever, However by @brooklyn-babylon / @twopoppies

(E, 8,9k) Louis could feel his heart rate pick up as he positioned the camera and Harry slowly stood up. They both knew what came next –– it had been clearly outlined in the advert Harry answered. The studio Louis worked for was filming a new series of camboy videos. Louis’ job was to make it look like amateur porn –– sweaty, sensual, dirty –– but well lit and edited. He was an artist, thank you very much.

—-

Or: Louis has a much better day at work than he’d expected.

home at last by @greeneyesfriedrice

(E, 1,9k) Harry turns, a wide smile on his face. Louis stands in the doorway to their shared bedroom, his right arm held close to his body and in a makeshift sling.

He makes sure not to fully ram into his husband, but it’s been almost one month, so sue him if he’s excited.

Everything by @tommokat

(E, 4,3k) He’s got a job he loves, fans he adores, friends to call on and family to claim. He’s traveled the world, broken records, set new ones. He’s 13 years into a relationship with the love of his life, the man he can’t wait to start a family with. He’s a three-time Grammy award winner getting railed by his husband in the back of a SUV in the middle of LA traffic. He’s got everything. What more could he want?

Post Grammy’s SUV Celebration Sex

Devil in my brain, whispering my name @lunarheslwt

(E, 9k) Or, Louis, a demon, shows Harry, an angel, just how good it can feel to give in to temptation and sin.

Only You, Always by @larryficwriter

(NR, 5,5k) “Hey Haz,” Louis says, tensing because he can tell that something is wrong. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis sees Liam hurriedly busying himself with the Xbox.

Harry walks over to Louis, eerily calm. Louis’ gulp is so loud he’s almost sure that Niall and Zayn could have heard it. He leans down, his breath tickling at Louis’ ear. Honestly, Louis can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine

“Bedroom.” Harry practically growls into Louis’ ear and then he walks away, just as calm.

For a second Louis is frozen. Just the tone of Harry’s voice has Louis twitching in his trousers. Louis knows what’s about to happen, he can just tell. And it is a far cry from the fight that he had been expecting. Louis gulps again, looking over to Liam. The tips of Liam’s ears are flaming and Louis’ about seventy-three percent sure that Liam had heard what Harry had whispered. Liam is specifically avoiding Louis’ gaze. And then it hits him that he should be up; he should be moving.

or how Harry reacted to the "Lilo Kiss" incident

Won't You Please Come Around by @allwaswell16

(M, 5,8k) Harry has lived in London for a month, and so far the only friend he's made is his sister's cat, Mr. Whiskers. When the lock on the window breaks, Mr. Whiskers begins exploring his new neighbourhood a bit too thoroughly and brings back mementos of his escapes.

Or a Valentine's Day story where Harry has a really fit neighbour, and his cat is a thief.

I Hope You Choke (on those words) by @imogenleewriter

(E, 3k) Harry Styles had been head of security for concert venues for over eight years.

Never in his career had he seen a musician as reckless when it came to personal safety as Louis Tomlinson.

After making his job a living nightmare, Harry decided he needs to talk some sense into Louis.

If only there were some way to shut him up.

You Could Give That Aspirin the Headache of Its Life by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(M, 3,6k) Louis had once heard that the chances of being struck by lightning are 1 in 700,000. He wonders now, how those odds compare to randomly being seated next to your ex boyfriend on a 10 hour flight.

Honestly, if the universe is going to insist on ruining his life, he really would have preferred the lightning thing.

(Or the one where Louis is a football player who gets stuck on a flight with his ex-boyfriend Harry. The universe might be conspiring against him, or is it?)

You Can See It with the Lights Out by @larryatendoftheday

(M, 8,6k) In a universe where you know as soon as you meet your soulmate, Harry's been shaking hands his whole career, waiting for the one.

Things Unsaid by @londonfoginacup

(G, 4,4k) Or, where you have a tattoo of the first thought your soulmate has when they see you.

✨ If the world was ending, you'd come over, right? by @enchantedlandcoffee

(T, 6,3k) "Is Harry with you?" Louis blurted out, his free hand tapping anxiously against his knee.

"Louis?"

"Yeah. Is Harry with you?"

On any other occasion, Louis knew Niall would have yelled at him for calling in the middle of the night. But Niall must've sensed the urgency in his tone, his voice immediately taking on a lighter touch.

"Yeah. Yeah, he's been staying in the spare room. Why? Do you want me to get him for you?"

"No!" Louis panicked. "Just- check on him please? Make sure he's breathing and everything?"

✨ My Arm Might Be Broken, But I Won't Be Broken Down by @boosbabycakes28

(T, 2,4k) Louis broke his arm for the second time and he is bored out of his mind. He has nothing better to do than mess with his husband.

✨ Together We're the Greatest by @hellolovers13

(E, 4,6k) “How the fuck does this always happen to you?” Louis huffed, pulling Harry's limp body into the half fallen apart car he'd borrowed for this. Well, he didn't intend to give it back, really, but insurance covered theft, did it not? And this thing was basically held together with duct tape and good faith, so really, the former owners should thank him for taking it off their hands.

It's not the first time Louis has to stitch Harry back together, but Louis will make sure it is the last

With the Bomb Lighting by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 4k) “Hey mate, sorry for the delay. Pop divas I swear…”

Harry’s eyes jolt open with record speed and he notes in horror that the man that had been filling his fantasies mere seconds ago is now filling his laptop screen.

“Holy shit, is that your dick?”

(Or the one where Harry is doing Zoom interviews to promote his new album, but his time management skills are lacking. Louis is the writer interviewing Harry for Rolling Stone when he accidentally gets an eye full. They figure it out).

the sweetness of your words knows no bounds in making my heart leap by @bottomhaztoplou

(M, 1,4k) At the end of his heat, Harry writes a letter.

At the beginning of his rut, Louis writes one back.

Meant To Be (Arse First) by BayouSexual

(T, 4,8k) Zayn groans in response, and Louis can hear the slow rustle of his bed sheets in the background. “Is it another ‘you woke up in the back parking lot of a Tesco’s with no pants and I need to come get you before the cops do’ panic or more of a 'I can stay in my bed and lend you an ear’ kind of panic, because I drank a lot more than you did last night, Lou.”

“Uhh,” Louis replies eloquently, “more like an 'I have two giant, blood red handprints on my naked arse, and no, they aren't from a good shag’ kind of panic.”

------

Or the one where your soulmate mark appears on your body where they first touch you and stays there until they touch you for the first time.

Aka the one where Louis's soulmate must like bums.

Makes Me Feel Alive by @itsnotreal

(E, 8,3k) Louis hated when people came in to get tattooed and couldn’t sit still— bunch of fucking squares is what they were. If only that had been the issue for his newest client.

Completely Oblivious by @itsnotreal

(G, 1k) “Are we dating?” Harry looked very confused.

Louis huffed, “That’s what I’m asking you!”

Or an interaction with a stranger helps these two finally figure their shit out.

✨💎 Your secret's safe with me by @lightwoodsmagic

(M, 7,4k) He knew almost everything about Haz, considered him his best friend. He knew his favourite movies and books, how he liked his coffee, knew how many pets he had and what he was most afraid of. Louis knew how to calm him down when he was panicking, and that he’d lost his virginity to his ex-boyfriend when he was 17. He knew that Haz had curly hair, green eyes, that he was tall and considered himself slightly awkward. He knew his Instagram account that only had aesthetic pictures or ridiculous jokes, but in the all the time that Louis had known him, he’d never learnt, or been allowed to know, Haz’s full name, what he sounded like, or what he looked like.

Louis didn't care.

Or, when Louis' favourite singer comes back and announces he's performing again, him and the rest of his group chat decide to go. When Haz, the man Louis' fallen in love with without meeting him, says that he can't, Louis tries his best to convince him with a drunken phone call, hearing his voice for the first time. It's not until he's at Royal Variety that he swears he can hear it again.

✨ Let The Ocean Worry About Being Blue by @greenblueish

(E, 5,6k) In a society where young adults go through the so-called Colour Test which determines their affiliation to a Colour - Blue, Yellow, Red or Green - and thus where they'll live, work and socialise for the rest of their lives, Harry is finally about to take the Test. Born and raised in Yellow, he met his boyfriend when he was still a teenager - against the government's recommendation. Louis, however, changed from Yellow to Blue two years ago. The problem: Harry needs to receive a Blue Test result as well, because a relationship between two people who live in different Colours is forbidden.

The Touch of Your Hand by @larry-hiatus

(E, 8,2k) Louis has decided to bite the bullet and get himself a dick piercing. He knows it’s going to hurt, but what he doesn’t know is how to calm down when he finds himself on the brink of a panic attack in front of the incredibly attractive piercer, Harry. Luckily, Harry is really sweet and offers to help ease his nerves.

You Don’t Have to Be Lonely Tonight by @neondiamond

(G, 2k) Louis is stuck working the Christmas day shift at the coffee shop. Harry is the sad stranger who comes in to spend the day there.

✨ In Jest by @londonfoginacup

(T, 4,8k) Louis, who smiles at Harry as he reclines in his chair. Louis, whose soulmark is visible thanks to his low-cut top.

Louis, Harry’s soulmate, who seems to either be blissfully ignorant of that fact or maliciously ignoring it.

Harry would really like to know which.

✨ you give me feelings that i adore by @alwaysxlarrie

(T, 7,6k) Harry doesn’t mean to fall in love with Louis’ scent when they first meet after the Alpha joins Harry's study group, but after Harry leaves a sweater behind by accident and it comes back smelling like Louis, he can’t really help it. Nor can he really help continuing to leave his things behind in hopes that Louis will take them home and drench them in his wonderful, mouth-watering scent. He just has to hope Louis will play along.

Or, 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture.

We All Scream for Ice Cream by @wishingforloushair

(M, 3,1k) Harry snatched the flyer back off the noticeboard, waving it at Liam. “BJ in your PJs?” he repeated.

“What? I’m not giving you a blowjob, Harry,” Liam said, looking slightly affronted.

“See?” Harry rounded on Niall. “No one thinks of Ben and Jerry’s when they read BJ.”

“Well, they should,” Niall said, snatching the flyer back. “Not everyone is a disgusting heathen like you two.”

“It says BJ in your PJs?” Liam asked, sounding aghast. “On all the flyers?”

“You told me it was catchy!”

When Resident Advisor Liam left his boyfriend Niall, and Niall's roommate Harry in charge of advertising the end of semester ice cream celebration for their hall residents, he should've expected it to end in disaster. Niall created an entirely inappropriate flyer, offering a very different experience than what they were planning to offer. When distributing the flyers, Harry meets Louis, an older student studying Drama, who is far more interested in BJs that doesn't involve Ben and Jerry's.

AKA crack/fluff with a bit of smut, based off of that one viral poster 'BJs in your PJs'

✨💎 Odds Are That We Will Probably Be... by @lululawrence

(NR, 0,6k) From the moment Louis learned no one would survive past the evening, the only thing he knew was that he had to get to Harry.

✨ I Knew From the First Time by @lululawrence

(NR, 6,1k) Or the one where Harry definitely doesn't take a sneaky pic of Louis on the Tube. Absolutely not. (Except maybe he does.)

All You Want's Under Your Nose by @wishingforloushair

(E, 3,5k) Louis decides to treat himself to a new sex toy, but is perplexed when he sees a man in the shop placing each vibrator against the tip of his nose and sneezing. Curiosity gets the better of him, and it turns out the man, Harry, is a sex-god who knows far too much about sex toys and promises Louis that if a vibrator makes him sneeze it will definitely make him come. Of course there's only one way to find out for sure...

On Love's Doorstep by @hellolovers13

(T, 1,6k) Harry Styles: a day in the life

☑ Stuck in a dress

☑ Abandoned by his best friend

☑ Date with hot neighbour

All in all, not the worst day ever

If Life Is a Photograph by @allwaswell16

(T, 2k) Harry gets plucked out of the crowd to take Louis’ crew pic on stage in Guadalajara.

It Was Electric Touch by @allwaswell16

(E, 2,2k) Harry, assistant to The Snuts' manager, has been indulging in fantasies about the headliner and founder of the Away From Home Festival, Louis Tomlinson. He gets the chance to indulge in the real thing at the after party.

Just Two Stars Passing By by QuickedWeen

(E, 5,1k) Harry blew up on TikTok and became a fashion commentator during the pandemic. Now, all of a sudden, big channels are asking him to cover their red carpets and premieres. Somehow he ends up covering arrival fashion for the 2024 Euros, and somehow Louis Tomlinson already knows his name.

A Late Summer Day by @gettingaphdinmomo

(NR, 0,5k) Today

I realized

you are home.

I almost told you

I love you.

Figure This Out by @haztobegood

(E, 2,4k) Louis is everything Harry could have imagined when he’d typed “silver fox enthusiast” into his Grindr profile. Too bad he's probably scared Louis off by giving him too many expensive gifts.

✨ Booked and Busy by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 9,2k) Booking the Away from Home Festival is the biggest opportunity of Harry’s up-and-coming career to date. It’s just an added bonus that the festival is hosted and headlined by his longtime celebrity crush, world-renowned rockstar Louis Tomlinson.

Despite his excitement, doesn’t expect Louis to watch his set. Or to visit his dressing room ahead of his show to wish him good luck.

Or to flirt with him.

But seeing as this is the most monumental night of Harry’s life to date, he might as well make the most of it.

***

A fluffy, smutty PWP where Harry performs at AFH 2024 and gets a lot more than he bargained for.

.🌸🌸🌸.

✨ you gave me a ring, lad! by @theeliampayne

(G, 0,2k, Liam & Louis) In which Liam visits Louis at a concert and "give me a ring, lad!" is taken more literally than Louis intended.

like air to me by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(M, 5,3k, Louis/Zayn) Five times Louis’ smoke break brings back memories of Zayn and one time it brings him back to Zayn’s doorstep.

.🌸🌸🌸.

🌿 part 1 (+50k) 🌿 part 2 (30-50k) 🌿 part 3 (10-30k) 🌿

#my fic recs #28th appreciation #larry fic #larry fics #hlficlibrary #larry stylinson fic #larry stylinson fanfic #larry fanfic #fic rec #HAPPY 28TH!!!

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talekinesis · 21 hours

Text

Random Gravity Falls Headcanons

Stan

This guy smokes to help deal with the stress of everything. He picked up the habit after he was kicked out by his father and hasn't quit since. He used to be a chainsmoker but after getting to look after the kids for the summer, he drastically cut back and is actually thinking of quitting altogether because he wants to be around long enough to watch Mabel and Dipper grow up

Actually a pretty decent cook, it's just baking he sucks at. With cooking you can sort of eyeball the ingredients and add more or less depending on your own personal taste, but with how strict baking is with its ingredients, he never really picked it up. He's only baked a cake twice in his life, once for his mom when he was a kid, with the help of Ford, and once for the kids' birthday (it was lopsided and runny and they decided to just go out for pancakes instead)

He can play the guitar really well. He had to teach himself how to play when he was young and homeless, playing for tips. He still has his original guitar and occasionally, on a good day, will get it out and play it. He played it once for Mabel, who, for once in her life, actually sat still and listened

Part of his daily routine is kicking gnomes out of the trash because they keep trying to eat leftovers. He just bats them off with a broom like they're raccoons

He grew up a huge mama's boy since she was the only supportive parent he had. After he got kicked out of the house, he called her from a pay phone a couple times to ask to come back home and to wish her a happy birthday. To this day he still makes it a point to get a cupcake on her birthday since he can't celebrate it with her, and sometimes he'll tell the kids stories about her, like how she would have loved Mabel since Mabel has all these different unique sweaters, and his ma used to collect different, big, unique earrings

Stan coaches Mabel in boxing, and actually helped her discover a passion for it, he attends all of her matches. He even taught her a couple illegal moves that she can't use in the ring but can use in real self defense

Even in his early 60s, he still thinks it's funny to bother Ford as if they were still kids. He'll randomly snatch his glasses off his face (forgetting that he also wears glasses and Ford can retaliate), he'll just start copying Ford and repeat what he says, he once even dressed up as Ford, but it didn't last very long because Ford wears a much smaller size of pants, and Stan has a bit of a gut on him. He changed after about five or ten minutes.

He's a die-hard fan of Chappell Roan

He's actually the more responsible of the Stan-Twins. He breaks laws sure, but he always makes sure everyone is fed and safe. He's like this close 🤏 to putting Ford and Mabel on leashes when they go out because they have a tendency to run off

"I'd like to make an announcement to the store, I lost someone." "Oh, did your kid run off?" "My 60 year old brother, yeah. No he doesn't have a cellphone."

Has a biological kid out there somewhere but the mom cut him off. I just think the scene where he said, "Scary movies are great, the girl cuddles up next to ya... next thing you know you gotta raise a kid.. And your life falls apart.." sounded too much like he was speaking from experience and not as a hypothetical. He wants so badly to be a dad though and regrets not keeping contact. (let me know if I should make an oc for this :] )

Ford

He can't eat doritos or any triangle shaped chip because one time Bill hid inside a chip bag just to startle him

It took him a while to adjust to this dimension's laws of physics. He was frustrated for a while that he couldn't just leave his coffee floating in the air. He broke three mugs and one of them was Stan's.

Despises pickles as if he held a personal grudge against them. He hates them an irrational amount, and even gets irritated with Stan for just having them in the house. He acts like a child about it too, arms crossed and everything. "Here, Poindexter, you want me to take the pickles off your sandwich? Like a child?" "Don't bother, the meal's ruined >:( "

He gets sucked into those soap operas that Stan watches, and will sometimes watch from the doorway or over his shoulder. He won't admit it, but Stan knows.

He lights his face on fire because he saw someone else do it in a different dimension where that was normal

Unlike Stan, he's actually amazing at baking (he likes to follow precise measurements and instructions) But sucks at cooking. Caught a pot of water on fire.

When he first discovered the shape shifter, he kept it as a pet because he found it cute, but ended up letting it go when he found out it had a human-like sentience and could speak. But for a while he raised it the same way Mabel raises Waddles, putting it in little shirts, hats, and just absolutely adoring it

Used to play 'Dungeons, Dungeons, and more Dungeons' with a group in college as the DM, and it was the first time he actually had a friend group. The other players loved the way he set things up

Doesn't like alchohol. At least from this dimension, he got used to alternate dimension alchohols that tasted way better, so when he came back to Earth everything tasted way too strong and almost like dirt to him so he just quit

Used to know a little banjo since Fiddleford taught him but forgot it while in other dimensions

Used to babysit Tate on occasion and sucked at it

He also used to babysit Shermie and *also* sucked at it. He'd have to pass him off to Stan if he got fussy or started crying since only Stan and their mom could calm him down

• Used to play David Bowie in his lab and would occasionally lip sync or dance to it. Even when traveling dimensions, he'd introduce David Bowie music to the people, creatures, and beings he met, until he lost the cassette tape and was devastated

Mabel

Allergic to chocolate and makes up for it by eating way too much of other candies. She still tries to eat it though because "Maybe I'm not allergic anymore," but Dipper has to stop her. Stan even makes it a point not to keep chocolate in the Shack when they visit because he knows Mabel is a heathen with little self preservation. It's not epi-pen bad, but it will burn and itch her throat and get her coughing (Ford will use chocolate substitutes when baking for her and Dipper)

She likes to tell people that she and Dipper were originally two of three, and that she ate their triplet in the womb to become stronger. This is not true.

She wants to be a big sister really bad and sometimes that comes out onto Dipper despite him only being 5 minutes younger, much to his dismay and protest

She found a passion for boxing after Stan taught her how, and even asked her parents to let her start doing it as a sport, which she got really into. Coincidentally, after she picked up boxing, Gideon suddenly left her alone completely. Future Headcanon: She grows up to box professionally and one day even faces Grenda in the ring, but there's obviously a mutual respect between them. They agreed ahead of time that if they ever had to face each other, neither of them would hold back and it would be a fair match. Even after there's a winner, they meet up afterward and go out for dinner with Candy, who posts their matches to social media. Waddles is her mascot.

Mabel makes even more friends when she returns home from Gravity Falls because she takes Waddles for walks on a leash and it's a pretty good conversation starter

She is convinced that if she eats all the ingredients for a cake, she'll have successfully made a cake in her stomach. Once again, Dipper has to physically stop her from doing this. Ford does too, the first time he heard her say this (through a mouthful of flour) he went, "That certainly is an interesting theory, Mabel, but no-"

Dipper

Let's get it out of the way, I really like the 'Trans Dipper' headcanon. It just fits really well and I, as a trans person, can relate to him a lot

I think he knows how to dance a little because his mom taught him and used to take him to 'Mother-Son' events

He secretly keeps a tally of how many times Mabel rolls herself out of bed because it always wakes him up but he also kind of thinks it's funny because she just sleeps through it. Even if they don't share rooms back at home, he can always here the distance "thunk" of his sister hitting the floor. The tally isn't a sheet of paper, it's a small notebook with multiple pages filled in

He sometimes gets the courage to try and roughhouse with Stan, who is always on board but purposely takes it easy on the kid because he's like "baby bird" fragile

Dipper was the one to break the news to his Grandpa Shermie that Stanley was still alive and Stanford was actually missing for 30 years with Stan taking his place, almost giving the poor man a heart attack. (Shermie ended up booking a flight to Gravity Falls to yell at his brothers in person because that's not a conversation you can have over the phone)

Dipper was the one to introduce Stan to Chappell Roan by accident, but now they listen to her if they're in the car together

his DD&MD character is a female orc fighter named Yotula and he got very excited to info-dump about her to Ford (who was equally as excited to listen)

Has an odd addiction to chocolate milk. He makes a glass of chocolate milk at least once a day. Twice if it's been a rough day. He actually gets a little upset if he misses his daily cup of chocolate milk, its just routine. Stan one time made an offhand joke that since Mabel's allergic, Dipper has to consume twice as much for the both of them, but Mabel took that seriously and now to her its just the truth.

#gravity falls headcanons #gravity falls dipper #gravity falls mabel #gravity falls stanford #gravity falls stanley #gravity falls stan pines #gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #Stan Pines #Ford Pines

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fashionteahouse · 2 days

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out of your league - paul x reader

AN: Thanks so much for the love for the 1st part of this story 💜 Should I make this full blown story? Just lmk! xoxo

“Mm. I don’t like the word bye. Tell me you’ll see me again.”

You look at him, surprised that he wants to see you again. Clearly, he enjoyed your company.

“Okay. I’ll see you later.” you speak out.

He watched you go up your stairs and go into your house before pulling off. You felt so in a daze, you didn’t know why you felt this way. You replayed the day in your head when you showered.

You replayed it when you were trying to count sheep to go to sleep.

While you were getting ready for school, you had the realization that you were going to see him again. You made your way to the front of your house and opened your front door and Paul’s car startled you. It was so unexpected, you didn’t even have time to pump yourself up.

You walked closer and in front of the passenger side door and you wait for him to roll down the window, which he does.

“Get in.” he says like this like it was a frequent thing that you two do.

You take your time to get in, questions swirl your mind.

“Good morning. Thanks.” you tell him.

He nods in acknowledgment.

“So…you decided to come to school?” you ask, the silence after was deafening but come on, he came to school like it was an occasion.

“Yeah.” he just says and you just shift your backpack that’s between your legs into a more comfortable position. You choose to look outside and watch the trees and street signs fleet pass.

You loved these types of mornings. It was a slight drizzle but it was so relaxing.

“You look nice.” he said with a sentence and you look over, he was actually looking down at your outfit.

“Oh, thank you.” you say, your heart start to race.

You mentally face palm yourself for being so nervous and flattered. “He is only driving you to school.” you kept telling yourself. “He’s only doing a nice gesture.” you said in your head. You didn’t want to get your hopes up and assume things that weren’t like that.

It was ingrained in you to compliment someone back if they compliment you. You look over to see what he has on. Everything was nice. His entire outfit matched with crisp shoes, new shoes that you knew for a fact that recently came out.

“I like your outfit too.” you say and he grins, “Thank you.” He replies in a sultry tone.

You swallow hard. Everything he does is with ease. Cool without even trying.

The school building comes into view. You already take your seatbelt off and say your thanks. Before he could reply you pick up your pace in going into the building. You show your school ID, going in through bag checks, and going straight to your locker.

You get ready for your first class and only bring out what you need before putting your bag and jacket in there. You close your locker door and Paul was there.

“Oh shit!” you say under you breath with a chuckle, he came out of nowhere.

“Before you rolled out, I wanted to know if you did this.” He says to you and an over-folded homework sheet is in display of his hands. “Yeah, I did it. I can teach you, you know so you don’t have to keep copying. What happens when the test comes?” you say.

He glances at it and then back to you. “It’s boring.”

You were about to speak out but your best friend, Kim comes into view, giving you a hug. This makes you smile and chuckle, happy to see her.

You just reach for Paul’s worksheet, knowing he won’t have time to copy it all since the first bell was about to ring. “I’ll just do it.” you tell him and he plainly gives it to you and walks away.

Kim links her arm with hers and once you two start walking, she hounds you. “Why are you doing his homework? Can’t he do it himself?”

“He needed help. There’s no time.” you tell her.

She shakes her head and tells you ,”Be careful. He’s just going to use you just to pass. Who knows if he’s even going to pass this year.”

Your feelings were hurt even though she wasn’t talking about you. It felt like she was though. He wasn’t even all that bad from what you’ve been around. He just wasn’t strong in that particular subject, that was okay, school wasn’t for everyone.

You did complete the worksheet. You wrote it sloppier than your own handwriting, not knowing how he even writes. Plus, the teacher seemed to know everyone’s handwriting.

You two had the same lunch before history. You, Kim, and a couple of other friends put your book bags in the seats you all were claiming before heading to the lunch line. You seen Paul come down a stairwell and you make your way towards him. The paper you hand him was refolded and he stops to look at it.

“I did it. Just changed the answers around a bit.” you remind him. He nods as he remembers and chuck it in his back pocket. You were about to walk away until he says, “You eating lunch?”

You nod and he nods too and follows you. Kim and others were a bit ahead of you in line so you cross your arms and lean against the wall, waiting for your turn to pick out what you want.

Paul’s friends are now behind him, starting up conversation. As the line moves, you feel the fabric of his clothes on you, you pay it no mind.

Once you have your food, pay extra for a snack and juice instead of the milk they offer, you make your way to your table.

“Where you going?” Paul asks.

“To..my table.” you say.

“You don’t want to sit with me?” he asks, it caught you off guard how he was actually perplexed that you weren’t following him and his crew.

You shrug, not knowing what to say, and when you sit down, he slowly sits down at another table just watching you. The look on his face had a look of gloom, not even paying attention to his own conversation.

You try your best to keep your mind on the conversation that your peers were having in front of you. You kept in mind what Kim said. You didn’t want to be used in any way.

You made your way to history and the class dragged on. Paul came in late, lazily puts his homework in the homework bin, sits in his seat in the back of the classroom and goes to sleep. The teacher doesn’t even bother to bring attention to it, they didn’t feel like arguing with him and wanted to get through the lesson.

As the class was filing out, he was still sleep. Nobody wanted to wake him up out of fear. You walk over, shake his warm arm, not too hard to startle him. His bloodshot eyes meet yours. “Class is over.” you tell him.

He looks around, stretch a bit and scrunch his eyes. He gets up and you just make your way to your next class.

When the day was over, you went to retrieve your jacket, the rain from earlier being heavy now. You’re almost down the hallway, “Y/N!” you turn around. Paul dangles his car keys. “You want a ride?”

You definitely did not want to walk in the rain or get on the rowdy bus. You nod and thank him. You two walk in stride and you poke fun of him for sleeping. “I just couldn’t do it. I told you it’s boring.” he simply replies.

Seated in his car, his scent being all over the car, you put your seatbelt on. He yawns and asks, “Do you want to come back over?”

You had no plans on having afterschool plans, the teachers had no mercy and homework was piled up today. “I got homework. I have to tackle it before I feel like I won’t feel like it.” you reply.

“Cool. We can do it together. Plus you said you were going to help me.”

“I said I can help you. Not that I would.”

“Same thing.”

That’s how you two were sprawled on Paul’s bed, that he didn’t bother to make up. He even changed into his house clothes, which wasn’t much since it was loose basketball shorts and no shirt. You tried to not stare too much. Just peeked glances when he would turn away. You were only there to teach him some strategies that helped you understand the hardness of your work.

But it seemed impossible, he kept distracting you. Once you went to explain how to get a certain answer, he would rub his finger softly back and forth on the back of your resting hand. That would give you butterflies and it would make you retract your hand, due to nervousness. He found this amusing. It was as if he knew the effect he had on you.

“I want to take a break.” he decided.

“We barely put a dent in.” you say.

He sighs softly and looks around his room. “Want to play cards?”

“I don’t want to play go fish.” you say with a hint of annoyance.

He nudges you, “Come on i’m not playing that.”

You two shared a game of spades. As the game was still fresh, you two organizing your cards from highest to lowest rank, he makes a deal. “If you win, we can go back to our work.”

“Good.” you say and look at your cards.

“If I win…” he starts to say and waits for you to look up. He had a mischievous look on his face that makes you roll your eyes.

“What? If you win, what?” you ask.

“If I win…you have to…kiss me.” he says with an anticipation effect.

You shake your head and scoff. You knew if you two kissed, things will never be the same. That’s all you would have on your mind. You wouldn’t even look at him the same. Plus, this guy seemed to know the game better than you. He did have to teach you the rules after all.

“I’m not doing that.” you playfully say.

He nods his head to solidify that’s exactly what’s going to happen and hums a response. You zero in on the game you two were playing. You wanted to save yourself the trouble, so you were determined to win. It didn’t seem to matter, everything so far was working in his favor. He won trick after trick. You only won one. After scoring, he did in fact win.

You groan while he laughs in satisfaction. Scooping the cards up and puts them back where they belong. You lamely announce you have to go to the bathroom, standing up and make your way towards his bedroom door.

“Uh uh.” he says to you, clearly seeing through your excuse. “I won. So, where my prize?”

“It wasn’t a fair win. Before this game, I didn’t even know how to play.” you say.

“A deals a deal.” He says.

You stand there for a sec, too stunned, because since he did in fact win, you had to carry out the deal.

“What are you waiting for. Let’s get it over with.” you tell him when he doesn’t move. He gets up and is now very close in front of you, nervousness is seeping through your entire body. You’ve never been this close to him before, especially face to face. He hurt so much to look at him because he just had a face that anybody would go crazy for.

“I said you have to kiss me. So i’m ready when you are.” he says lowly and looks at your lips.

You would’ve never thought in a million years that you would be in Paul Lahore’s room, about to kiss Paul Lahote. You suck in a shaky breath and quickly lean forward and press your lips to his. He’s not satisfied and his face doesn’t hide it.

“That was not a kiss.”

“Yes it was.” you tell him.

“No. I want a real kiss.” he says and there’s no signs of him giving up. He knows you’re stalling, so he curl his finger in a ‘come here’ motion to hurry you up.

You slowly inch and inch and you just lay your lips to his. He then takes the lead because he doesn’t know when’s the next time this will ever happen. He wants to make the most of this. Head titled, he licks your bottom lip to get an entry and caressed his tongue with your own. His hand creeps behind your neck and you had no choice but to move forward close up on him.

The butterflies weren’t in your stomach this time, it was in your womanhood and you felt excited, even though this wasn’t your plan. He lets you go with a sensual snack and you’re breathing heavy. His eyes were low with swollen lips and it made you want to kiss him again.

You don’t even know what to say, so you two look at each other for a minute. You turn to sit down on his bed and look at the floor. You felt the bed dip beside you and glance over and he’s still looking at you, searching your face for something.

He opens his mouth to say something but a door closing catches both of your attention. He goes out to greet his father, who just came home from work. While he’s gone for that duration, you feel your bottom lip with your tongue and realize you can still taste him. You just simply can’t believe that just happened.

You get your school work in order and focus back into the academic mission that was originally supposed to transpire. You don’t even know if you can focus again.

“That was my dad.” he tells you.

You nod your head in acknowledgment.

“Can we…finish up?” you ask timidly.

He sits now and actually lets you take the lead in showing him how to solve the problems. There was a sense of tension but you pushed past it to finish. When you two are finished, it’s nighttime and you know you have to head home soon.

“Alright, hopefully you got the hang of it.” you say as you’re stuffing your belongings back into your backpack.

“I need your number in case I need your help again.” he boldly says. Your hands start to get shaky again. You didn’t know whether or not you wanted this to be a frequent thing. Your thoughts stop when he extends his phone for you to enter your number. You take it hesitantly and enter it and give it back to him.

You two make your way downstairs and Paul’s dad is sitting in his designated chair watching whatever is on the television.

You two greet each other and he just puts an arm around your shoulder to steer you out. You surprisingly like this gesture and you wish it could be like this forever. You two get settled in a car and before silence takes over he speaks.

“I want to take you out.”

“Oh..where?”

He chuckles as if it were an inside joke, “I mean.. How should I say this?” he thinks for a moment. The ticking of the turning signal fills the air. “I want to always do what we did. I like it. And I like you.”

You don’t trust your voice, you don’t even know what to say, so you just nod.

Your house comes into view and he says, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning okay?”

“Okay. Thanks again.” You opened the door and before you lift yourself out of the seat, you turn to him and say, “I think…I like you too.” you say.

He gives you a smile that lets you know he is satisfied with your answer.

As you lie in bed, you were right. That’s all you kept thinking about. It got to the point where the night felt like it was dragging on. All you wanted to do was sleep it off but it seemed impossible. Every time you closed your eyes it seemed like you were reliving it over and over again. Your mind started to travel to different directions, thinking of what would happen if you two kept going and didn’t stop. All of the tossing and turning made your pillow warm and flipped it over to retry sleep.

The next day, you were a bit tired from getting only 4 hours of sleep. You tried not to think too much of your outfit, even though you couldn’t get out of your head of how he told you when you looked nice.

You said goodbye to the remaining people in your household who haven’t left yet and made your way outside. He was there as promised, with the engine running. You get in and tell him good morning.

He greets you back but more importantly he leans over and kisses your cheek softly with so much affection it almost seemed out of place for his hard exterior. Your face feels hot and a small grin creeps your lips.

You two make small talk and then you start to yawn.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Yeah.” you couldn’t wait for the day to already be over so you can jump in your bed and take a nap.

“Up thinking about me?” he asks cockily.

You roll your eyes playfully and don’t say anything. He just snickers at your reaction.

He pulls into the school lot and you already have your seatbelt unbuckled, he places a warm hand above your chest to hold you in place for a second.

“Not so fast.” he teases. You look at him in confusion and he makes it his duty to kiss you again. It was unexpected and it wasn’t a quick peck. He held your chin with his index finger and thumb.

After he pulls away, with you trying to catch your breath, he walks over to your side on the car door and lets you out. You walk in stride with him and he has an arm resting around you, pulling you close. People look of course but with him, it doesn’t feel embarrassing.

He walks you to your locker and patiently waits for you to put your belongings in there. He never brought a backpack. You don’t know how he survived this long doing such thing.

Kim comes into view but slowly decrease her speed in walking when she sees who’s with you.

“Hey Y/N.” she says to you awkwardly.

You say hi to her as if it was the most normal day.

“I’ll meet you in class.” she simply says and makes her way.

Paul walks you to where you needed to go.

Whenever you’re out of class, he’s right there. He holds onto you as if you’re going to run away if he lets go. You’re so absorbed in his company that you don’t even meet up with Kim and your other friends. You get your lunch together. He steers you to his table, not trying to repeat the same thing that happened the previous day.

Kim looks at you with a ‘what are you doing’ expression look on her face. You give her an apologetic look and Paul sit you down super close next to him. His friends sense the new company but they don’t say anything out of line because Paul is giving them all a look that could kill. He keeps one hand placed on the outer side of your thigh.

He softly makes conversation with you. Each vibrational wave of his voice raising hairs on the back of your neck, suddenly paying attention how attractive his voice is.

In history class, he’s sleep as always.

The day is over and he doesn’t even have to tell you that he’s driving you home. As the school is out of view, he’s not driving in the direction of your home.

“I’m tired, I want to take a nap.” you tell him, completely wiped from the school day. Mentally cursing yourself for not getting enough sleep.

“You can sleep with me.” he says.

You’re nervous again. Walking with him through his house and you sit on his bed while he changes out of his school clothes.

When he comes back in the room, he pulls his covers back and it looks enticing, looking like you’ll get the best sleep of your life from it.

“Come on. I thought you were tired.” he says impatiently.

You take off your jacket and place it in the chair that it’s in room and lay on your side. He lays down after you and pulls you to him and kisses you once more. When he’s done, you turn to get some sleep and buries his face in the back of your neck and you two drift happily into slumber.

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cherubharrington · 3 days

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Rafe x Latina!Popstar reader

{this doesn’t follow the show’s plot, I’m using labios mordidos by kali uchis and Karol g. https://youtu.be/RPcGDkjyhlI?si=8O1jssXsUqmSghhD, the performance this is based off of}

You’d lived in the outerbanks for most of your life. But you were dreaming for bigger. You didn’t hate it, you were a kook. But you never really felt like you belonged. You had dreams bigger than what outerbanks could hold. —Your parents could tell from when you were a child how talented you were. You had a voice and you knew how to dance. They put you through piano lessons, singing lessons, anything and everything they could think of. It eventually paid off.

“I don’t understand, I get it. It’s a big dream of yours. But don’t you get it. It’s going to take you away from me.” Your boyfriend Rafe said.

You looked at the ground;conflicted. “I know, Rafe. But I need to try. I need to see it through.”

It had led to the nastiest breakup you’ve ever had. Both of you sobbing, Rafe trying to hold onto you. Not letting you go. But it was final, your dreams were the love of your life. And you were going to chase them. Cause unfortunately, you loved music more than Rafe.

“La nena esta encendí’a, se me pega como un tattoo.” You sang into your mic, your body on the ground, your butt in the air. The dancers in front of you. “Yo te doy garantía que nadie estás dura que tú.”

Rafe watched on the tv; his jaw ticking.Sarah and Wheezie had decided to turn the tv on to this. To you performing for all your fans. You looked so beautiful, a ping of hurt spread through him like a wave. He missed you so much.

“Wow, I knew she would make it big.” Wheezie said, mesmerized.

“Right.” Sarah said, eating popcorn from her bowl. Rafe watched as two of the guy dancers lifted you into the air and helped you roll your body like a wave. His jaw ticked again. He was feeling all kinds of emotions.

“How does it feel, Rafe? Must sting.” Wheezie said, that did it for him.

“Shut up, Wheezie!”

“Jeez, calm down. I was only kidding.”

“She was joking, Rafe.” Sarah says.

He got up abruptly, knocking something over. “Rafe!” Then leaving the room. He went into his room, his head in his hands and tears following down his face. His leg shaking.

Once the show was over, you had immediately gone backstage. The adrenaline was running high and you felt good. This is all you’ve ever dreamt of. All you’ve ever wanted. A call comes from your phone.

It reads:

Sarah

You instantly pick it up.

“Hey.” You say, drinking a cold bottle of water.

“Hey! I’m so proud of you, me and Wheezie were just watching.” You can feel her smiling through the phone. You hear Wheezie cheering on the other end.

“Thank you! I feel like this is so surreal.” You pause. “Did- did uh Rafe see?”

“Uh—he did.”

“Y/n! We have to do interviews now! Wrap it up!” Your manager says, interrupting your conversation. You smile and nod.

“I have to go. Tell him I miss him.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

You hang up and sigh. You know Sarah probably won’t and you understood why. You follow your manager out… your mind on Rafe, who’s miles away.

#latina!reader #rafe cameron x latina!reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe x y/n #rafe x you

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creatingblackcharacters · 1 day

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My favorite Black character of all time has got to be Valerie Gray from Danny Phantom.

She's a high school student turned vigilante after the vigilante efforts of the main hero result in her Dad losing his high paying security job. She was popular at school until then and she deals a lot with losing her old friends and social status.

She starts out with ghost hunting equipment given to her by the mc's arch nemesis, specifically with the intent that she would be going after the mc for revenge about her dad losing his job. Later, she obtains ectotech armor from one of the town's regular rogues.

Her hunting down the mc is interspersed with her making friends with the mc in their secret identities, at school. She even dates the mc at one point, not knowing he was the ghost hero haunting their town.

She ends up breaking up with him without even finding out he was Phantom, or her telling him she was Red Huntress(even tho he secretly already knew) because she wanted to protect him from the ghosts she fights around town. She's a complex character who is definitely a teenage girl, one who struggles with her place in things. I've been a DP fan since the show started airing when I was small so she's been a love for a long time. 🧡💛🧡

VALERIE!!!!! okay so you don't know it (til now) but I have perpetual beef with the DP fandom. And it's because I watched this fandom do everything in its power not to acknowledge the chemistry that she and Danny had. An entire white character with no face made up by the fandom before Valerie. Hell, even before Tucker 😭 so much for friends to lovers or enemies to lovers. But I remember as a kid going "OH EM GEE HE LIKES BLACK GIRLS!" which 😅 but still! I loved it. I was so hurt when they didn't last 😭 like come on!!!

Hot Chocolate: Valerie 😍😍 another one of my childhood crushes! Smart, cute, deadly. Forget Sam, give me more Val! I am a lover of Danny Phantom and I still sometimes wish it continued or we had MORE depth or something! I know it was a kids show but Danny had so much potential! Yet he'd forget his abilities, AND he didn't pick Valerie! (I get she was protecting him but still.) and Butch Hartman is.... Yeah. Anywho, Val FTW.

#september challenge #post your favorite black characters!#creatingblackcharacters #black characters

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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 days

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John Shelby Vs. Breakfast - A John Shelby/Reader Short.

I haven't written for any of my Peaky lads in a hot minute, so I thought I'd do a little fun, fluffy piece for my fave ginge <3 Enjoy!

Words - 792

Warnings - None, just John being John!

Clattering. Swearing. Burnt toast. Those are what greet you after descending the stairs, coming into the kitchen to see perhaps the most unnatural sight in the world; John cooking. Or rather attempting to.

“Bastard, bloody thing!” Yes, the cast iron pan handle heats up while cooking eggs and bacon in it, not that he’d realise, being a man. Naturally, he’s had a woman perform these tasks for him all his life, so why would he know that? “Oh, shit, shit, shit, not again!”

At least this time when he reaches for hot metal, he has the sense to cover the end of the toasting fork with a kitchen towel, pulling the slices of bread from in front of the fire. “Fuckin’ hell!”

You stand and watch it, the sexy, ginger ball of stress whirling like an agitated tornado around the space, John much too predisposed by messing up the preparation of breakfast to notice you there, his entertained audience of one.

“Alright, I can save that. Scrape the burnt bit off. Right, kettle’s almost done. Sodding hell! How the fuck do women do this and make it look so bloody easy?”

“Because we’re magicians,” you finally speak, watching him jump before he spins around, pointing at you through the chaos of his own making.

“You should be in bed, still!”

Shrugging, you approach, stroking his bare forearms, his sleeves all rolled up. “I was wide awake, so I thought I’d get up.”

He bustles, waving his arms. “No, no. Ain’t supposed to be like this. I had a plan! Bring you breakfast in bed and now it’s all bloody going wrong!”

Casting your gaze over his shoulder, your eyebrow flutters upwards. “I don’t think that has anything to do with me coming down the stairs, John. The pan is smoking, by the way.”

His face falls. “Fuckin’ hell!”

“Do you want a hand?” you offer, watching him move it from atop the range, scraping the slightly overdone eggs and bacon out onto two plates.

He waves his hand towards the table. “No, you sit down.”

“I can do the teapot, at least?”

More hand gestures are directed. “Sit down, bab!”

He’s adamant to do this, so tucking your dress, you take a seat, picking up the morning paper as he butters the toast. Finishing plating up the breakfast and pouring the tea, he brings it to you, everything a little crispy and haphazardly presented, your new husband looking at you from under a few furrowed brow.

“Don’t look nothing like when you make it, but I hope it tastes alright, at least.”

Digging your fork in, you take a first mouthful. “It’s lovely, darling. Thank you. What made you want to cook for me in the first place, though? You always denounce it as woman’s work. Not that you should. We’re in the twenties now, us women are to have our equality.”

“Oh, not you an’ all!” he groans, rolling his eyes. “You and bloody Pol and your women’s lib!” His little wink indicates he isn’t a hundred percent serious, picking up a slice of toast and taking a huge bite, crumbs collecting at the corners of his lips. “And I did it because I wanna make amends. Ain’t proper that we’re married and I can’t take you on honeymoon. Nah. Even a weekend up the seaside would have been nice. Got all this fuckin’ shit round me neck, though.”

Indeed, he has. You know well who you married, and the life of a prolific gangster is seldom easy. Or, in this case, flexible enough to allow for time away from Birmingham with his new bride.

Reaching for his hand, you stroke the freckled flesh, cocking your head. “You’ve no amends here to make, love. I know, I understand. It is what it is.”

“Yeah, but it bloody shouldn’t be, cos’ you deserve more!” he fumes, forehead creasing. “And I can’t give it to ya right now. Feel like a right bloody joke of a husband, I do.”

“You know what you can give me, though?” you tease, John not immediately picking up on the connotations. “A bloody good seeing to.”

He pauses his chewing, an eyebrow arching. “Get that scran down your neck sharpish, bab. I might not be able to take you away even for a weekend, but I can take you to bed instead.”

To be honest, is seeing a lot of time pressed against a mattress beneath your new husband not the point of a honeymoon? You’ve always thought so, at least, therefore it matters not where that mattress happens to be. Whether further afield or Birmingham, as long as John is there, it’s all the honeymoon you need.

A slightly cremated breakfast is an added bonus, too.

#john shelby fanfiction #john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic

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listofwhyyouloveher · 2 days

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I BEG, the gang with a crush in roller derby? Like crush carries skates around all the time, crush always has bruises on their legs, crush wins almost every match and goes bummed out when they don't. Just some derby stuff!!

Summary: The Outsiders x Roller Derby! Reader Warnings: none Authors Note: Is this my sign to get into roller derby PONYBOY has no clue what roller derby is. He didn't even know you did a sport until a few months into knowing you. He'd always notice the bruises and bandages on your legs and once he asked he was even more confused. You have to explain to him what roller derby is, basically step by step. He's always a little worried for you, asking you to wear kneepads and other sorts of protective gear when you go to play a match. He'll always treat you to ice cream after you win too! JOHNNY knows what roller derby is because every night a couple of girls skate past his house and when he was young he used to watch them go by. He think's its an admirable sport to get into, considering how bruised and battered you can get. He doesn't really like going to your matches because something about floor burns and seeing you get hurt just twists his stomach. Nevertheless, he'll wait outside for you, hugging you even if you didn't win. He will probably never try rollerblading with you, but maybe skateboarding if you ask nicely. SODAPOP actually used to watch rollerderby. It was always when he was surfing channels and drunk off of a couple of beers, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He loves watching your games and get really rowdy at them. He's got so much spirit you'd think it was a superbowl game. Soda wants to try skates but he's not sure how he would fair, so he's fine just walking with you. He's definetly telling all the gang members that his girlfriend can solo all of their girlfriends because you're so incredibly strong to him. STEVE thinks rollerderby is the tuffest thing a girl can do. He's so into it and he thinks the bruises and bandages just make you look like a really cool greaser. He actually skateboards, so everytime you go out to skate he's coming with you. He thinks your games are the most entertaining things to watch and he's thinking about getting a rollerskate tattoo on his other arm. He knows your whole team by both their game name and by their real name and he fits in perfectly with them. TWO BIT thinks what you're doing is incredibly dangerous. He'll remind you every once and a while but he'll never act on it because he loves watching you skate and be happy just as much are you like skating. He wants you to teach his sister how to skate so she can get to school easier and he bought her and you a pair of matching hot pink ones after saving up enough money. He's actually a little intimidated by you because he thinks that you're actually stronger than him. DARRY hates you doing rollerderby. Not because he doesn't want you to be happy or anything, but he sees how much pain it can cause you and he gets frustrated that you're so carefree. He'll never try to pull you from the game though, and when you lose he'll list everything you did well even though it sort of hurt him to watch. He's always attending to your wounds and making sure you're not in more pain that you need to be. DALLAS thinks you're probably the tuffest chick in Tulsa. He watches you practice when he walks by and tries to stop in on some of your games. He's always there when you win, or he tries to get a recap of what happened. The rest of the gang just think he's being weird about a new sport but they're starting to get a clue that he likes you because all he talks about when he gets tipsy is how you massacred your competition in a game once. He'll NEVER pick up skating though. He thinks rollerskates are for girls, (he's fallen down when he was a kid and never got back on them).

#shroomsroom #clara'sroom #the outsiders x reader #dally winston x reader #dallas winston x reader #steve randle x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #johnny cade x reader #darrel curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #two bit matthews x reader #two bit x reader #two bit mathews x reader #pony curtis x reader #soda curtis x reader #sodapop x reader

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 3 days

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eii, i LOVE your fics your writing is like SO GOOD.

Também tenho um pedido, vocês poderiam fazer um leitor Poly! Plastics X onde a leitora tem TDAH mas não faz nenhum tipo de tratamento porque os pais dela não levam o diagnóstico a sério então em algum momento ela começa a ficar sobrecarregada e brava consigo mesma por não conseguir se concentrar e por pensar demais então ela acaba se afastando um pouco da Plastics para não ser um fardo e isso fode um pouco a cabeça dela, nisso a Plastics vai percebendo aos poucos e correndo para fazer uma intervenção e ajudar a leitora.

Desculpe se fui muito específico, eu meio que me identifiquei e queria um pouco de conforto :/

Searching for Quiet

|| poly!plastics x fem!ADHD!reader

(i myself am poly)

|| Warnings; reader struggling with ADHD (descriptions of what she's going through), short drabble

|| Summary; when reader's ADHD becomes too much for her to manage on her own, she distances herself from the plastics. Not wanting to be a bother to them. The plastics don't let reader get away with that, though.

Requests open!

Started; september 24th

Finished; september 25th

~~~

The classroom felt overwhelming. Everyone was talking while they worked on their assignments. Everyone expect you. You couldn't focus on the paper in front of you. Your foot tapped impatiently, the noise around you feeling impossibly loud and overwhelming. Making your skin crawl. Even though in reality, it wasn't quite as loud as it felt. It was more of a casual buzz of conversations; but the way they mixed into each other and overlapped was not helping you.

As you continuously tapped your foot, you clicked your pen at the same rate. Usually repetitive motion of some kind helped your ADHD to focus on what you're doing and not the rest of the world. Today apparently wasn't the case. It was all too much.

Too loud.

Too crowded.

Regina, Gretchen, Karen and you all sat around the same four desks, you could hear your girlfriends talking with one another but couldn't pick up on what exactly they were saying. You did however focus on the gum in Regina's mouth, the tapping of Gretchen's nails on the desk, the subtle rocking Karen did in her chair.

You flinched as you thought of everything around you and that was your last straw. You needed to get out. Go somewhere quiet. Anywhere that wasn't here. Maybe under a staircase or the library if a class isn't in there.

Before you knew what you were even doing, you were out the door. The teacher had called your name but you didn't hear. Even if you had, it wouldn't have stopped youz

Taking off at a light jog through the halls, you rounded a few corners until you were at the library door.

You slowly opened the door and peeked your head in, only to find a class there so you closed the door again and headed to the nearest stairwell. The stairs were open underneath, so that's where you decided to hang out until you weren't overstimulated.

Settling down against the wall, you took a deep breath and sighed. Burying your face in your hands. You were there for maybe ten minutes before you felt a hand on your shoulder; causing you to flinch.

You were met with Gretchen's worried gaze," Y/N?" Her voice was soft as she sat with you and you relaxed a little in her presence," you okay, baby?"

You shook your head and leaned against her. You weren't as overwhelmed as before but you weren't 100% either.

"What's wrong?" Her voice was soft as she held you, trying to be as soothing as possible as the door to the stairwell opened. Regina and Karen ran over and relaxed when they saw you. Which made you confused so you looked to Gretchen for an explanation," we got worried when you ran out of class and searched the whole school for you."

"Do you need a hug?" Karen asked with a small smile, arms stretched out.

You couldn't help but smile as you nodded and stood, getting your hug from Karen who kept you close.

Regina stood off to the side, arms folded as she watched you and Karen while Gretchen stayed seated where she was.

"So. Gonna explain what all that was about?" Regina asked. Trying to seem annoyed to mask the worry she felt.

"I just- was overwhelmed by everything. I was frustrated and didn't want to worry you guys so I left." You explained in a mumble, burying your face into Karen's neck. You heard Regina sigh.

"That's stupid."

"Regina-!" Gretchen frowned.

"Ugh, not like that. I mean it's stupid you wouldn't just talk to us. We were right there. We could have helped."

You took in what she was saying. They could've, but there were so many things that held you back from asking for their help.

"It's just something to work on!" Karen said with a smile as her hands went to your shoulders, you looked into her eyes," right, baby?" She asked.

"Yeah... we- I'll work on it."

Gretchen got up and gave you a hug from behind while Karen wrapped her arms around you again. Then held her hand out to Regina, who rolled her eyes but came and joined the group hug.

Yeah. This helped. You made a mental note to try and start asking for help when you need it.

#x reader #fanfic #canon x reader #fem reader #wlw fiction #mean girls x reader #mean girls #regina george #regina george x fem!reader #regina george renee rapp #gretchen wieners x fem!reader #gretchen wieners x reader #regina x gretchen #karen x gretchen #karen x reader #karen shetty #gretchen wieners #poly!plastics x reader #poly!plastics

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vicsy · 2 days

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Many people won't care about me writing about this but I must get this out.

I got into Formula 1 at the beginning of 2022. It coincided with the world as I knew it collapsing in on itself with record speed. I don't hide the fact that I am from Russia and I know most people would know what my country started in February that year. You watch your entire life plans getting crumpled like a piece of paper and thrown into the trash; the borders closing, companies leaving, the world turning back on you for the sole fact that you were born here. You watch yourself slowly inched into isolation.

And at the worst time in my entire life I managed to find this little gateway. It started with Lando, funnily enough, because I didn't know my way around the F1, so I picked someone with a Star Wars name. Irony is not dead. It wasn't long before I imprinted on Daniel like a fucking baby duckling.

Even through the mess that was his career in 2022, he brought me (and many others) so much joy. I was slowly navigating the world of racing and trying to make sense of it all. Daniel was there. The narratives were there. He is the reason I discovered the fanbase, the fandom, the reason I met so many people I get to call lifelong friends now. And I can't imagine my life without them anymore. At my lowest I found a community that made my life bearable and fun and bright; a community that made me want to create and write again. Daniel was the reason I broadened my horizons and became a Fernando fan, Lance fan, a fan of so many other drivers that I still have the joy to support even when Daniel won't be there, behind the wheel or barking in the garage.

You'd think that it's stupid to hang your entire life balance on one millionaire who drives cars in circles and won't ever know you exist. But to me Daniel became that balance when everything else was just plainly uncertain. I watched the news of the world events unfolding and that pit of dread was never ending. It was like having a rug pulled from underneath your feet every single day. Those first 2-3 months of the war felt the worst. Not like it changed but you get the idea. But I still had this little F1 world and this smiling weirdo to brighten my day.

The friends that I found, the happiness that I managed to scrap in the times of great uncertainty, all of this was tied to Daniel. He was, in a way, a lifeline that led me to a hobby that I've grown to love. It hurt me back, multiple times, but it also saved my sanity on so many occasions.

I know, in my heart, Daniel will bounce back. Who knows, maybe he'll be back one day, in 2026, or doing something related to F1. Or maybe he chooses to stay away forever. Me, personally? Of course I'd like to see him race. And I hate change. The change of it all hurts as much as the fact that Daniel never got a proper goodbye. I do hope he knows, somehow, how much he is loved.

And I'll forever cherish the fact that I got to see him live in Baku, that I stood in front row an listened to him explain his terrible pizza choices. I heard him say well done, Baku first hand. I'm glad I got there in time to get a signed card. I'll always have the warmest feelings towards Daniel. If not for him, my life would be emptier today.

oh, and, never forget – fuck 'em all.

#vicsy personal

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sluttywoozi · 49 minutes

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(Boy)Friend Material | Part II | csc x f!reader

Part I

Seungcheol really thought that, having met you on a dating app, you'd be more into, well, dating him. He supposes he should have made sure you knew that's what he thought you were doing.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~9.2k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: romance, smut

Warnings: elevator makeouts, minor safe sex discussion, lil tiny mention of birth control making reader depressed, restraining, oral f. rec., vaginal fingering, squirting, sex with a condom, crying during sex

Reader Notes: referred to with she/her pronouns, has two cats, has breasts and a vagina, gets carried by cheol, wap

Seungcheol is still fucking floored that he’s been dating you without your knowledge for four months.

All this time, he’s feared that you weren’t as into him as he was into you. What else was he supposed to think when he was constantly the one reaching out? He was the one making the dates, and inviting you to hangouts with his friends, and asking if he could come over and spend time with you.

He tried not to mind that it was always him hugging you, him wanting to hold your hand, him touching you in all the little ways people in relationships do. He told himself that he just hadn’t discovered your love language yet, and that once he did, things would change.

Honestly, if you were anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have stuck it out so long. He was willing and able to because you’re you, and he likes you so damn much.

You got his attention effortlessly with your opener, and the way you committed to the bit instead of backing down or changing the subject kept him interested. Then when he met you, you were somehow even funnier and prettier in person, and he was fucking enchanted. As soon as you parted ways, he was trying to figure out how he could see you again, dreaming up different scenarios and cycling through ideas until finally, he just asked. You said yes, so he kept asking.

And now here he sits on your couch (where he can be found most Sundays), playing with your cats and listening to your musings as you pack your weekend bag. He doubts you think he can hear you or you probably wouldn’t be asking yourself, “Comfy or sexy?” out loud. He’s not sure which you pick but he’s kind of hoping for comfy because that’s always been sexy to him, the surety that you’re comfortable around him and cozy as can be.

It’s been a while since his last relationship and he’s not a serial dater like some of his friends, so he was a bit out of practice when he met you. Still, he counted himself lucky that you grew to be so comfortable around him after only a few weeks, though now he knows it’s because you thought he was just your friend.

He regrets that it took him thinking you wanted to break up to finally be honest about feeling like the relationship was one sided, because everything could have been resolved so long ago.

All the times he’s thought about kissing you, he could have. Every morning that he’s surprised you with your favorite iced latte, every flower garden that he’s ever brought you to, every movie night that he’s looked over at you and watched the colors dance across your face in the darkness. He could have been kissing you for months, and you could have been kissing him back.

He mourns the lost time, but part of him can’t be upset this miscommunication happened because it’s made him move with purpose. He’s constantly thinking of you, always trying to be what you need, and he honestly isn’t sure he would know you this well if he didn’t feel like he had to prove himself worthy.

It’s not like he’s going to stop trying to prove himself now, but it helps to be reassured that your withholding nature wasn’t because he likes you more than you like him, it was because you didn’t know he likes you at all.

He feels so juvenile talking in terms of like, but he’s a little scared to introduce love to the equation. He could so easily define his feelings for you in that way, but it’s been four months of dating you without you dating him back, and he’s reluctant to take that leap without being sure you’ll take it with him.

After he bore his soul to you, though, you said all of those things, told him that you don’t ever want to let him go, which sounds a whole lot like a love confession just minus the actual word…

Bluebell paws at his hand, asking for attention, and he grants it, trying to shake off worries that don’t hold weight anymore. Poppy sprawls against his thigh, purring so loud he can feel the vibrations.

This has been enough, he tells himself. Count yourself lucky that it’ll get even better now that she can knowingly participate in the relationship.

“Ready,” you say in a sing-song voice as you struggle through the door to your bedroom, your shoulder laden down with a duffle and your hand holding your giant water bottle…cup…thing. You’re wearing your favorite lounge set, one he’s seen countless times, but the way the soft fabric clings to the curves of your body still makes his heart pound.

He rises quickly to greet you, sending Poppy skittering off the couch. She darts over to you, yowling as if he committed a mortal sin, and you pout indulgently at her, asking, “Did the big man scare you? Poor baby.”

He doesn’t mind the teasing, especially when you call him big in the process.

Before he gets too wrapped up in staring at you, he strides over, carefully taking hold of the strap on your shoulder and lifting until you slide your arm through so he can shoulder the duffle instead.

“Wanna get a refill before we go? I know you like your water more than mine,” he offers, continuing to say (because you’re so fucking cute when you’re adamant about something), “Even though it tastes the same.”

“It does not taste the same! My water is better and more refreshing!” You claim instantly, walking across the living room to your kitchenette.

“Maybe that’s because I’ve changed your water filter twice since I met you even though it only needs to be changed twice a year.”

“Maybe so, but you’ll change it a third time for our six month anniversary and you’ll do it with a smile on your face,” you playfully command him as you fill your monstrous water container.

Six month anniversary. So you really do want to keep him around.

“Yeah, baby, I will,” he sighs, hoping you can’t tell that your little light-hearted threat has him feeling like he could drown, he’s so awash in adoration for you.

“You’ve never called me baby before,” you gasp gleefully, spinning to face him with bright eyes and a wide smile.

“I didn’t know if you’d like it,” he shrugs, a bit sheepish that it’s taken him this long to test it out.

“I love it, baby is my name now,” you tell him, screwing the top back onto your water and sounding so serious, it’s almost comical.

You grasp your cup, holding your free hand out to him for what might be the first time. His heart skips a beat as he takes it, intertwining his fingers with yours and following you to your door.

“Bye Bell, bye Poppy, I love you,” you call out, looking over your shoulder to find your cats already asleep in their favorite spots on your mushroom and flower cat tree. He whispers his own goodbye and closes the door gently, pressing the button and turning the lock until it clicks.

Immediately, you’re tugging him down the hall and towards the elevator, a chuckle escaping him at the sound of your bubbly laughter and quick footsteps.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” you press the button and chant at the machine, bouncing in place beside him.

“Excited?” He teases, amused by your lack of patience.

Your head turns at the speed of light as you look at him with wide eyes and ask, “Aren’t you?”

He would be sarcastic but it sounds like your heart is primed to break, and he can’t risk hurting you just for a joke.

“More than I can say,” he answers honestly, expecting your smile but not the way you hustle him into the elevator and back him up against the wall, wrapping your arm around his neck and looking away only to press the ground floor button.

“You gonna kiss me or not?” He murmurs, his eyes already on your lips as you get close enough for him to feel your chest against his.

You answer without words, your perfect lips soft and unyielding, his hand dropping to your hip to tug you into his body as your fingernails scratch at the short hair on the nape of his neck. The feeling sends a shiver down his spine and drags a sigh out of his mouth, one that you swallow with a needy gasp.

He lowers your duffle to the floor, stepping forward until he’s got you against the wall and sliding his thigh between your legs to see what other sounds he can summon from you as his passion starts to overflow. His lips move against yours insistently, a fire lighting up in his veins when you wilt into him and let him take control, the transfer of power mouthwateringly sweet.

And then you pull away. You pull away and he tries to chase you but you stop him with a hand on his chest, and he won’t push you, he would never push you.

“Everything okay?” He pants, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts and images of you that fill it.

“Yeah, it’s just- we’re here,” you whisper, blinking at him and glancing over at the elevator doors.

The open elevator doors.

The lobby is empty, but if Seungcheol is being truthful, he thinks he wouldn’t really care if people did see.

You’re his girlfriend, and he’s your boyfriend. What’s so wrong with it?

Then again, part of him does want to keep you all to himself, kissing in elevators included. Which is why he’s quick to step away from you and take your hand again, grabbing the duffle before pulling you through the lobby and to his car.

He’s not in such a rush that he won’t still open your door for you, waiting as you get in and gently shutting the door before tucking your bag in the backseat and jogging around to the driver’s side. He closes his door quietly even in his haste, not wanting to startle you or make you think he’s upset in any way.

His hand finds your thigh again after starting the car up and getting on the road, the silence that fills the space anticipatory instead of stifling like it was just an hour ago. He finds himself clenching his jaw and bouncing his left knee, counting down the traffic lights that sit between your place and his until finally, there’s only one left.

It’s red when he rolls to a stop, and his heart is thumping so hard in his chest that he swears if he looked down, he’d be able to see it beating. He glances over at you and finds you already staring at him, which has happened more than a few times in the months that he’s known you. This time is different, though, because you don’t pretend you weren’t looking, or start rambling nervously, or even look away.

You just meet his gaze and let him see everything. Your nerves, your desire, your impatience, he sees it all, and feels it all himself. For perhaps the first time since he met you, he knows for certain that you and him are on the exact same wavelength.

He’s so entranced that he doesn’t notice the light turn green until the car behind him honks, and that disturbance is still barely enough to make him tear his gaze from yours. His eyes reluctantly return to the road as he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze and presses the gas pedal, closing the distance between the light and his parking garage as quickly as the speed limit allows.

A long minute passes and he’s pulling into his designated parking spot, his seatbelt unbuckled and his door open before the car is even off. Sometimes, you’re distracted and he gets to open your door for you, but this isn’t one of those times. You’re out just as fast as him, meeting him at the trunk and taking his hand.

Together, you speed walk to the door that opens into his hallway. You pass through first and then he does, your pace getting faster the closer you get to his place until finally, finally, he’s unlocking the door and beckoning you inside. He pauses to slip his sneakers off at the rack and you follow suit, the sight of your shoes next to his lighting up the part of his brain that craves domesticity with you.

You don’t come over as often as he goes to your place so when you slow, he takes the lead, his hand still holding yours tightly and his heart still racing.

He doesn’t quite mean to press you up against the wall but he takes a step forward as you take a step back and then it’s just too easy to lean in and taste you again, your lips supple and your sigh sweet.

The kiss starts off slow, tame, but it’s not long before he’s inching closer and sucking at your bottom lip, his tongue gliding along yours when you open your mouth and let him in. You’re so warm and soft against him, your breasts flush with his chest and his dick starting to throb against your stomach, the combination of sensations making his head spin.

It seems he can’t get enough of you now after what feels like millions of missed opportunities, millions of times he’s wanted his lips on yours and his hands on your body. He’s lost in you before he knows it, near mindless with desperation and devotion, his hunger for you so overwhelming that he fears no amount of you will ever be enough.

It’s never been like this before, nobody else has ever made him feel as if he would suffocate without their air or perish without their touch, but here he is, kissing you like you’re breathing pure oxygen and gripping your hips like he’ll fade into nothingness if he lets go.

He knew you were special to him but he didn’t know he would need you like this, and the realization is enough to make him pull back, saying through sharp breaths, “Maybe we should slow down, I don’t want you to feel like we have to rush.”

You gaze at him, almost through him, and say, with great care, “Seungcheol, I’ve wanted your dick inside me since we met. If you want to slow down, we can, but if I had it my way, we’d be moving even faster.”

And fuck if that isn’t enough to spur him into action, to make his cock twitch in his jeans and his hands fly to your waist, a rough, “Jump,” escaping his swollen lips.

You gasp but wrap your legs around him when he starts to lift you, his grip shifting to your thighs as you vine your arms around his neck, seemingly holding on for dear life. He’d die before dropping you so you have nothing to worry about, but he’s too focused on getting you to his bed to inform you of that fact. He also maybe likes feeling you cling to him like this too much to give you any reason to stop.

“We need a condom, right?” He checks as he walks, fairly certain the answer will be yes.

Jeonghan bought him a box when he first started seeing you, the exact size he needs and brand he likes, and handed them over with a wink and a wiggle of his eyebrows. Seungcheol rolled his eyes at the time, but he’s thankful for him now because he never would have bought them himself, too fearful of jinxing the situation.

“Yeah, I stopped my birth control, it was making me hella depressed. Is that- I mean, are you okay with using one?” You ask, though you absolutely don’t need to.

“Baby, all I care about is making you feel safe. I’ll wear a condom, I’ll pull out, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“You’re the best boyfriend,” you sigh, hugging him tightly and pressing a kiss to his cheek as he crosses through the doorway to his bedroom.

He left it relatively clean, thankfully, and there’s nothing embarrassing out, unless he counts the picture of him and you that he got framed last month to keep on his nightstand. You see it when he carefully deposits you onto your back on the mattress, your face twisting up like you might cry.

He’s alarmed until you say, “I have that photo framed on my nightstand.”

The fact that you have one is enough to make him smile but the fact that you picked the same picture is enough to make him fucking beam, his lips stretched too wide to kiss you even though he really wants to.

He tries anyway, his smile fading as he braces a hand next to your head and presses his mouth to yours, climbing up on the bed when you grip his shirt and start to pull him. He’s imagined this so many times, pictured you under him and on top of him and in front of him (face down, ass up as he slides inside of you).

He’s made himself cum to the thought of you in this bed, and now that he has you here, he almost doesn’t know where to start. You seem to have your own ideas and desires though, and he’d give anything to find out what they are.

So, like Seungcheol always has, he just asks.

“You said you’ve wanted me since we met… What have you thought about?” His voice is ragged when he speaks, deep, but he thinks you like it, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip before your breath leaves you in a sigh.

“Lots of things,” you whisper, your hands skimming down his chest until they find the hem of his shirt and start to push it up. He sits back on his knees between your legs and hauls it off, fighting a smirk at the way your eyes grow hazy.

You hesitate to put your hands on him, so he takes one of them in his own and presses your palm to his stomach, his muscles jumping at your warm, gentle touch.

“Like what?”

“Like… how big you probably are. If you’d be soft and sweet or if you’d be a little rough, a little mean.”

Following your words, he drags your hand down and lets you feel him, his dick hard and pressing into the zipper of his jeans. You can’t cover all of it, but you close your fingers around the shaft as best you can and rub firmly, one, two, three times.

“Fuck,” he sighs as you squeeze, the pressure making his eyelids flutter as pleasure sparks within him. “Which do you want more? Soft and sweet or rough and mean? I can be whatever you want.”

“You’re already all I want you to be, Cheol, so just be you.”

God, you’re going to be the end of him. Death by swollen heart.

“A bit of both it is then,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, shifting his grip to your wrist before pushing your hand up to rest beside your head. He does the same with your other hand, leaving you unable to move your upper body.

He’s about to break away to check in, but you melt into the bed and wrap your legs around his waist, tugging his hips into yours with a soft moan.

The sound sends a lick of heat down his spine, his dick pulsing in time with his heart and so hard, it almost hurts. He breathes a shuddering sigh into your mouth and grinds into you, wishing his jeans could magically disappear so he wouldn’t have to stop kissing you to take them off.

The denim is getting to be too restrictive though, especially when he’s dying to feel you with no barriers at all. So he tries to pull back, but you whimper into his mouth and hug him closer with your legs, and the only way he can respond to that is by kissing you harder and letting his body press into yours.

He’s gone for you for a few more minutes, his jeans all but forgotten as you roll your hips against his and sink your teeth into his bottom lip. The slight sting makes him gasp and dig his cock into you in retaliation, his hands tightening around your wrists when you just push back and bite his lip again.

It feels almost impossible to pull away from you now but he can’t take it anymore, the clothes need to come off, yours in particular. He’s imagined this too often and wanted you for too long to make this a quick, messy, fully-clothed fuck. You deserve better, you deserve everything, and he’s going to do his absolute best to give it to you.

So he breaks the connection, ignoring the whine that escapes you to pant out, “I’ll kiss you again when we’re naked, promise.”

“Yes, oh my god, take your pants off,” you reply in a rush, your eyes lighting up as you attempt to free your wrists from his hold. He releases you immediately, but he climbs off the bed before you can wrestle his jeans down, his hands finding yours and pulling until you stand with him. With a laugh, he says, “I said ‘when we’re naked,’ baby. That means you, too.”

“Strip me then,” you raise your arms, a challenge in your gaze, and he can do nothing but accept it, tugging your shirt up and off and freezing in place when he sees what you have on under it.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs, staring at the cherry red lace that encases your breasts. There are delicate little bows on the straps and the lace is so fine that he can see right through it, could probably rip it without even trying.

“Did you wear this for me?” He asks absentmindedly, his eyes caught on your tits as they rise and fall with your breathing.

“Yeah, I bought it when we started talking. I thought you’d like it,” you answer softly, tucking your thumbs into the waistband of your lounge pants and pushing them down just enough for him to get a peek of the very same red. “It’s a matching set.”

His knees weak at the thought, he sits heavily on the mattress, setting his hands on your hips and guiding you to stand between his legs.

“Can I see?”

“That’s kind of the point,” you whisper like it’s a secret, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders as he starts to pull your pants down. They slip off easily and pool on the floor, leaving you nearly bare before him and more bewitching than he could have ever imagined.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he sighs out, feeling almost dazed as he takes the sight of you in, his thumbs tracing over the bows that sit on the front of your hips. He sinks his fingertips into you, squeezing to feel the give of your flesh and using all of his willpower to stop himself from tearing the lacy panties right off.

He could (and would) buy you a new set, but you bought this with him in mind, and had to wait so long to wear it for him. It’s too special for him to damage it just because he’s desperate to see you bare.

You must be able to read his mind, taking your hands off his shoulders to reach behind your back and undo the clasps, the bra loosening on your body before you shrug it down your arms and toss it on the bed.

Seungcheol finds himself spellbound once again, captivated by all the skin before him, the way your nipples pebble under his gaze making his breath catch in his chest. “Can I touch you?”

“I feel like I’ll die if you don’t,” you answer immediately, gasping in relief when he smooths his hands up to cover your breasts. He cups them, testing the weight, and squeezes gently, already obsessed with the feeling of your soft, supple skin under his palms. His thumbs drag over your nipples, circling them until you let out a quiet little whimper, one that he would give his life to hear again.

“Lay down for me, baby,” He requests, needing you spread out before him so he can fully drink you in.

Forgetting a change in position means he has to stop touching you, he pouts when you step out of his reach, though he’s distracted almost instantly by the cheeky cut of your panties.

He stands on knees that are still slightly weak, getting out of your way and watching as you climb up on the bed. He tries not to ogle you but your ass looks so fucking biteable from here, and he can’t even let himself focus on the space between your legs because he just might combust if he gets a good look.

You settle on your back in the center of the mattress and he feels his heart squeeze at the sight of you in his bed. He’s wanted you in it for months, and not just for sex, but for cuddling and reading together and falling asleep in each other’s arms, too. So much time has been wasted, but he won’t let it bother him, not when this literally feels like a dream come true.

He starts moving toward you, trying to formulate a game plan for how he can kiss your stomach and suck one of your nipples at the same time, but you hold a hand out and say, “Stop.”

Every muscle in his body locks up, his heart pounding in anxiety that he’s done something wrong, that you’ve changed your mind about him, that you-

“Don’t look so worried, Cheollie, I just want you to take your jeans off,” you soothe, making him sigh out his stress and squeeze his eyes shut.

“Listen to me, Seungcheol. I like you so much that it scares me sometimes. I like you in a way that is concerning to my friends. I like you more than I have ever liked anyone else. My crush on you is deeper than the Mariana Trench,” you say emphatically. “I will tell you this until you believe it.”

Fuck, he feels like he might cry.

Hearing these words from you is affirming beyond belief, soothing to his very soul, and the steadiness and truth in your voice as you said them is what gives him the courage to admit it.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers quietly, his eyes still closed. He hears rustling, envisions you making your way to the edge of the bed, and he’s not surprised when he feels your hands take his.

“I know I’m in love with you,” you whisper back, your fingers intertwined with his and your voice just as sure as before.

He blinks his eyes open, finds you staring up at him with a teary, affection-soaked gaze, and can’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss stays chaste and soft even though your tits are out and he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, this moment so precious to him, his desire takes the back burner.

Until you pull back and tell him, “Now take your pants off, please. I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Fuck the back burner, you just lit the stove on fire. He unbuttons his jeans, the fly barely halfway down before he’s shoving them off and stepping out of them, kicking them away like their presence offends him. You didn’t ask him to, but he sheds his boxer briefs as well, feeling his cock pop up and hit his stomach before it hangs heavily between his legs.

Your eyes grow wide and you open your mouth to say something, but he can’t stop hearing, ‘I’m so fucking wet for you,’ the words seared into his brain forevermore.

“Let me eat you out?” He practically begs, willing to ask again on his knees if you want him to.

“I love that you ask, but you don’t need to anymore. Just do what feels right and I’ll stop you if I don’t like it,” you promise, laying back and lifting your ass for him as he slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts to tug them down.

And shit, they’re soaked, fucking sodden with your arousal, the lace sticking to your pussy as he peels them away. He can feel his mouth water when the scent of you fills his nose, leaving him breathless and near brainless with need for you.

Sinking to his knees, he gently pushes your thighs apart to reveal the prettiest fucking pussy he’s ever seen. Maybe he just thinks that because it’s yours, but that doesn’t really matter when you’re glistening and open and all for him.

He’s always imagined himself having some amount of finesse when he finally got his tongue between your legs, always pictured going slow and taking you apart piece by piece, or at least pacing himself even a little bit. Now that he’s here, with his hands on your thighs and his face just inches from you, he knows that won’t be the case at all.

You smell too fucking good for him to hesitate any longer, his tongue darting out and dragging from your opening to your clit. He can’t hold in the groan that leaves him at the first taste of you, his cock twitching as your arousal coats his taste buds, heady and rich and perfect. His eyes flutter closed and he buries his face in your cunt, pushing your thighs up to your stomach so he has more room to work.

He feels your hands against his, feels them hooking beneath your knees to hold your thighs up for him, and he moans gratefully in response, setting his thumbs on either side of your pussy and pulling your lips apart so he can taste you more directly.

He dips his tongue into your entrance and you clench around it, the sensation making him whimper into your pussy and delve even deeper inside. Just this might not be enough to get you there but you taste fucking heavenly and feel even better, and he’s wanted his mouth on you like this for months.

So he allows himself to be selfish for a few minutes, fucking you with his tongue just to feel the way you quiver and squeeze around the muscle. Your arousal starts to leak down his chin and he almost regrets the waste of it, pulling his tongue from your pussy to latch his lips to your opening and suck.

“Seungcheol, please, I need-,” you implore him, your words halting when he fills you with two of his fingers, the digits sinking inside with a squelch. You whine above him and his gaze travels up your body to find your back arched and your kiss-swollen lips parted, every sound that escapes them like music to his ears.

Fuck, you’re a goddamn wet dream.

His fingers curl inside of you, exploring until he finds that patch of nerves along your front wall. As soon as he grazes it, you gasp brokenly and buck into his touch, making him bite his lip and return his eyes to your pussy and the way it swallows his fingers. His mouth finds your clit and suctions around it, the little bud firm under his tongue as he flicks it back and forth, following your sounds to find what you like best.

“Cheol, I-I’m getting close,” you moan out in a warning tone, but it only makes him more determined, his fingertips grinding into you and his lips puckering around your clit. You seem to love it when he sucks in pulses and crooks his fingers into your sweet spot at the same time so he sets a quick tempo, hoping to help you find the edge and then tip you over it.

It happens sooner than he expects, the molten velvet of your cunt tightening around his fingers rhythmically as your cries reach a fever pitch. He doesn’t stop, wonders if he even could when you’re making the noises you are and begging him, “Please, Cheollie, please.”

He would soothe you but his mouth is still hard at work on your clit, his tongue rolling over the bud again and again as his fingers prod that spot inside of you. Soon enough, you can’t speak, just sobbing and sinking a hand into his hair to hold him in place, your thigh falling to rest on his shoulder.

He doesn’t mind the weight, loves your soft skin against his ear and the feeling of you pressing his face into your pussy, as if he’d even consider pulling away now. You want to cum again, he can tell, and he’s not going to stop until you do.

He fucks his fingers in and out of you faster, pursing his lips around your clit and sucking deeply, grumbling and groaning into you in encouragement, his brows furrowed and his vision hazy.

Your cunt spasms around his fingers, growing impossibly wetter and locking down like a vise until all he can do is curl his fingertips into your sweet spot and dig his tongue into your clit. A sharp whine pierces the air and your thigh trembles on his shoulder as you break, arousal gushing out of you in spurts to coat his neck and drip down over his collarbones.

It’s the only flood he’s ever been thankful for, and before you’ve even started to recover, he’s already voicing his gratitude.

“Fucking beautiful, baby. That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me, oh my god,” he mumbles, pressing kisses along the thigh that rests on his shoulder, withdrawing his fingers to clean them off with his mouth.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you whisper dreamily, struggling to lift your head.

He lowers your thigh and rises to his feet, shaking out his stiff legs before leaning down over you and letting you taste yourself on his lips. The kiss grows deep in an instant, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you wrap your legs around him and pull his body into yours. His aching dick gets trapped in between until you reach down and take hold of it, guiding it to rest against your hot, wet cunt.

That first bit of contact is enough to pull a low groan from him, the slippery heat of your pussy on the top side of his cock making him throb and leak against you. He’s so fucking desperate for you but there’s only one thing that he wants more than to sink inside of you bare right now, and that’s to respect your wishes (and not get you pregnant… for the next year or two, at least).

Maybe someday he can fuck you without a condom but that day won’t be today, so with great difficulty, he drags his lips away from yours and reaches an arm out to pull open his bedside drawer. He feels around for a second, exclaiming victoriously when his fingers catch on the box before he takes hold of it and sets it on the bed.

Looking back at you for approval, he finds you beaming up at him like he hung the stars in the sky just so you could bask in their light, and fuck, he swears he’d rearrange them all in the shape of you, given the chance.

He fumbles one-handed with the box for a minute, his other hand braced next to your head to keep himself from crushing you, before you take over and tear it open, ripping a packet off the strip and tossing the rest onto his nightstand.

“We’ll need those for later,” you inform him matter-of-factly as you unwrap the condom and reach down to wrap your fingers around his dick. He’s been leaking enough precum that your hand glides when you pump it up and down, and it takes an astounding amount of self control not to fuck into your grasp as if he’s never been touched before.

You place the condom at his tip and start to roll it on and even that is heavenly, your touch electric and your eyes bright like the summer sun when your gaze meets his. He feels you line him up, his cock jumping at just the thought of being inside your perfect cunt, barrier or no barrier. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling his hips into yours, and he takes that for the hint it is.

Sucking in a deep breath, he starts to sink into you, the head of his cock pushing through the tightness of your entrance to disappear inside of you inch by inch. He goes slowly, both to give you time to adjust and to give himself the opportunity to get it together, the blazing heat and intoxicating grip of your pussy wiping out every coherent thought in his brain. There’s a stretch but it’s eased by your arousal, and the way he can feel you relaxing and opening up to accept him is nothing short of exquisite.

“How does it feel?” He gasps out raggedly, watching your face as he finally bottoms out. Your eyebrows are scrunched up and your pretty lips are parted, soft breaths escaping as you hitch your thighs up higher on his waist and let your eyes blink open.

They’re full of tears, making him blanch and immediately start to pull his hips back, sure that he’s hurting you and you’ve been unable to even speak through the pain to tell him.

“No, stay! Stay, Cheollie, it’s fucking perfect,” you plead in a broken voice, hugging him closer with your legs and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Then why are you crying?” He asks, confused and still slightly worried though the fluttering of your walls around him is enough to make him want to cry too.

“I’ve just wanted you for so long, and you make me feel even better than I ever dreamed you would,” you tell him through a wobbly smile. “I think you’re my missing piece.”

“Baby,” he sighs lovingly as he melts against you and drops down to his elbows to press his lips to yours, the movement burying him just a bit deeper inside and making both you and him moan in pleasure.

He doesn’t think he even knows words that could explain how flawless, how right you feel around him, but he can at least try, for you.

“Being inside of you is like… coming home. Like I’ve been wandering in the cold my whole life and I finally found somewhere soft and warm and safe to rest. I kind of want to never leave,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours and gazing into your eyes as he speaks.

“You may not be able to stay forever but I’ll always want you to come home again,” you promise him gently. “You will leave enough to move, though, right? Because-”

Laughing, he squeezes his eyes shut and steels himself before pulling his hips back a few inches, the drag of your clenching walls on his cock enough to steal his breath even with the latex in between. He tries to go slowly as he presses back into you, but the igneous embrace of your cunt draws him in with one effortless, gliding thrust.

Somehow, burying himself inside of you the second time feels even better than the first, and it’s easier to withdraw from your warmth again when he realizes that the pleasure will only compound as he moves more and more.

Fighting to keep his eyes open and on your face while he establishes a rhythm, he builds speed until the catch in your breath and the fluttering of your eyelashes tells him he’s found the best pace for you. He can’t make it out more than a couple inches before your legs around his waist stop him, but he loves that you want him inside as much as he wants to be inside, so he just puts more power behind his hips as he slides back in to make sure you feel it.

Time starts to pass and he falls into something like a trance, the feeling of your pussy clinging to him as he leaves and cradling him as he returns hypnotic. It’s almost as if he’s lost the ability for complex thought and replaced it with pure sensation, just acting on instinct now that his brain has been rendered useless.

It doesn’t help that your gaze is deep, mesmerizing, fucking magnetic. He can’t look away, feels like he can’t even blink as he fucks into you, his face close enough to yours that he’s breathing your air. Still, he wants to be even closer, wants to burrow inside of you, climb into your ribcage, and make a home right next to your heart.

The desire is so intense, it’s nearly frightening, but nothing could scare Seungcheol away from you now. He’s yours, mind, body, and soul, belonging to you in a way he’s never allowed himself to belong to anyone else before.

He hates to admit it, but he’s already starting to get close. Lasting has never been an issue for him, even in the past few months when all he could think about was you, but thinking about you and being inside of you are two very different things. Your pussy is goddamn magical, everything about fucking you is goddamn magical, and he fears his only hope is in changing positions.

“Baby, can I- shit, can I fuck you from behind?” He stalls his movements long enough to ask, dreading the moment he’ll have to pull out completely so you can turn over.

“Um, yes but…I honestly don’t know if I can hold myself up,” you reluctantly admit, like you think it’s something to be embarrassed about.

“That’s what pillows and my hands are for,” he assures you, smiling at the way you relax and unwrap your legs from his waist, allowing him to begin the process of extricating himself from you.

Slowly, he begins to draw his hips back, ignoring the alarm bells that ring in his head as he feels his cock leave your heat inch by inch. It’s only for a minute or two, he tells himself, pushing off of you and sitting up so you can get onto your stomach.

He watches your body move as you roll over, his eyes stuck on the curve of your plush ass before you get your knees under you and they shift to the gleam of your wet, fucked open cunt. Keeping his gaze on you, he reaches to the head of the bed and grabs the two pillows that rest there, sliding them under your hips one after another. You sink into position, your back arched and your cheek pressed against his sheet, completely relaxed even with your body on full display for him.

The groan escapes without his permission, the memory of your taste on his tongue making his mouth water. Before he knows it, he’s on his stomach too and burying his face in your pussy, reaching up to press down on the small of your back so you arch even deeper into him.

“Cheol!” You gasp, pushing back onto his tongue when he shoves it inside of you, making him whimper into your cunt as he devours you.

“Never gonna get enough of this pussy, fuck,” he mutters as he shifts his focus to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking in pulses. He doesn’t know how long he eats you out, just that he goes until you’re dripping down his face again and squirming against him, desperate to cum.

“Seungcheol, please, I ne-need your cock, need you to fill me up,” you cry out, reaching back and gripping one of his hands where it holds you down.

His dick jumps and leaks into the condom at your words, the plea in your voice sparking a shiver he feels all the way from his scalp to his toes. Pulling his tongue from you, he rises back up on his knees and shuffles forward, taking hold of his cock and gliding it up and down the seam of you, nudging at your clit.

“Cheol,” you begin, likely about to threaten him. He would love to hear it but your entrance catches on the head of his dick and he can’t resist the alluring, feverish depths of your cunt, sliding inside in one long, ruthless thrust.

You keen when he reaches the end of you but you also tilt your hips to accept the last inch, the snug clutch of your pussy near mythical in the bliss it brings him. With one hand gripping your hip to hold you up and the other firm on the small of your back to keep you in place, he starts thrusting in and out of you.

The tempo he takes is brutal, fierce, the force of his hips impacting your ass making it ripple and bounce as he fucks into you. His hearing is fuzzy with how fucking good it feels but he can still make out the smack of his skin against yours and the slick sound of his cock gliding through your wetness. There’s a squelch every time he bottoms out, and accompanied by your whines and whimpers, all of the noises combine to create a masterpiece of a melody.

Seungcheol truly thought the pause would help but he’s right back where he started, throbbing and leaking for you and so fucking close to the edge, he’s concerned he’ll make it there before you do. Sure, you already came twice, but you deserve a third, a fourth if he can hold himself back long enough - one orgasm for every month he spent not making you cum.

The hand on your back slips around under your hips, working itself down between your legs to find your clit. It’s swollen beneath his fingers, slippery from the arousal his dick keeps pushing out, which only makes it easier to swirl circles into the bud, the way your pussy instantly clenches around him making him moan roughly.

The added resistance just enhances each stroke, your walls trying to suck his cock back in when he pulls out and hugging him tighter and tighter every time he pushes inside again. He fears he won’t be able to make you cum without it making him cum too, but there’s something so poetic about finding that euphoria together that he can’t be bothered about breaking this soon.

“Getting close, baby?” He asks, fairly sure what your answer will be.

“Yeah, Cheollie, wan-wanna cum with you inside me so bad,” you gasp, craning your neck to look back at him. “Thought about it every time I-”

You can’t finish your sentence when his fingers start to move faster, but he thinks he knows where you were going with it.

“Every time you fucked yourself, you wished it was me instead, huh?” He teases a little meanly, knowing he has no room to talk.

Your face crumples as you nod, tears filling your eyes, and he leans down over you, his hand leaving your hip to brace himself so he doesn’t suffocate you. He presses his lips to your cheek, your jaw, your neck, murmuring, “I did the same fucking thing, baby, and I always wanted it to be you.”

“Promise?” You whisper, a vulnerable tinge to your voice. He’s reminded that, until tonight, you had no idea how he felt about you. This is all still new, and he needs to be kind, delicate, reassuring as you acclimate to the reality of him being in love with you.

Stopping all movement so you can fully focus on his words, he whispers back, “Cross my heart and hope to die. Ever since we met, I’ve thought about you, wanted you, dreamed about you. I fell for you. You’re it for me.”

“You're it for me too, Seungcheol,” you tell him gently, before asking, “Can I turn back over? I want you to hold me.”

He answers by smacking one last kiss to your cheek and climbing off of you, helping to roll you onto your back and pulling one of the pillows out from under your hips, leaving you slightly elevated but not so much that it’s uncomfortable. Sighing contentedly as he stretches himself out along your body, he slides his forearm under your shoulders to pull you into his chest and holds himself up with that elbow, slipping the other hand between your bodies to guide his dick inside of you.

“Better?” He confirms, grinning when you nod shyly and wrap your arms around his neck, your legs rising to encircle his waist as he sinks back into you. He hopes you feel as held by him as he feels by you, the sheer comfort and safety of your body enough to make his eyes water this time.

He moves slowly, carefully, rocking in and out of you at a steady pace, never leaving you more than halfway before burying himself inside again. The brief pause did wonders for his self control, his release feeling far enough away that he thinks he really might be able to get you there once before he lets you pull him over the edge too.

Until you start kissing him, that is.

Once your lips meet his and your tongue slips into his mouth, every part of him is wrapped up in loving you. There’s not a single thing on his mind except for you, every thought dedicated to kissing you, fucking you, pleasing you, and it feels so goddamn right. Like this is what he was made for.

And fuck if that doesn’t have him closer than ever before, his cock pulsing and leaking into the condom, the latex probably the only thing keeping him from cumming right now. If he could feel you bare, it would be over for him, and as much as he wants to experience you without the barrier, he’s thankful for it.

His fingers settle back onto your clit and start to rub circles around it, his mouth catching the gasp you let out when his hips scoop on the next thrust in and drag the head of his cock against your g-spot.

He can’t hit it with every stroke, not when he wants to get as deep as possible, but combined with the work of his fingers, he can feel you getting closer each and every time he does graze the erogenous patch.

You stop kissing him to tilt your head back and let out a long, high-pitched whine, and he knows it’s almost time. He doesn’t change a thing, not when your nails dig into his shoulders, not when your hips buck into his, not even when your pussy starts to swallow around his cock. He just keeps his steady pace, continues to roll your clit beneath his fingers, and hopes, prays, wishes that pleasure will find you before it washes over him.

“Please, please, please baby, please fucking cum for me,” he begs, every muscle in his body tensing as he fights to hold off his own orgasm. It’s not in vain, thank fucking goodness, because you whimper brokenly as your pussy starts to undulate around him, growing tighter and tighter until he can’t move, can barely even breathe.

You’re cumming, fuck, you’re cumming, and so is he, the pulsating of your walls around him making him surge deep inside and stay there as he fills the condom with his cum, his cock jerking and jumping within you. It’s better than it ever has been, every thought in his head wiped out by pure fucking ecstasy and every muscle in his body tensing then relaxing as he succumbs to the urge to just melt into you and let two become one.

Minutes, or maybe hours, pass before he can pull himself away from you, but eventually you release your hold on him, your arms falling to rest beside your head and your legs gingerly returning to the mattress. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to not be inside of you, but the condom is starting to feel uncomfortable now that he’s softening, especially as full of cum as it is, so he holds the base of it as he withdraws himself from you.

You pout the whole time and he does too, but you say nothing as he gets off the bed to slip the condom off, tying the end in a knot before dropping it in the bin next to his desk.

Seungcheol doesn’t know why but he’s nervous to turn back around, to face you again. When he does, though, you just smile up at him sleepily and open your arms, waiting for him to find his place.

He grins softly and slides back into bed, laying on his back and gathering you up against his chest, humming contentedly when you snuggle into him, your leg tossed over his thigh and your arm wrapped around his waist.

“We should wash up, but I don’t want to move…” he murmurs, lifting his head just enough to press a kiss to your crown before letting it drop back down, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I have bad news,” you say quietly. His heart starts to race and his eyes fly open, his arms tightening around you like that’ll protect him from what you’re about to say.

“What is it?” He asks, hesitation clear in his voice.

“We forgot my stuff in your car,” you whisper nervously, as if that’s something he would actually get upset with you over.

He can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of him, tinged in both love and relief, though he does muffle it in your hair.

“That’s not so bad, baby. I’ll go get your water and bag, and you start the shower, okay?” he proposes, already planning to jog so he can make it back in time to rinse off with you.

“Okay,” you sigh happily, sitting up and rolling out of bed before prancing over to the ensuite, fully fucking naked.

Yeah, no way in hell is he staying on that goddamn couch tonight.

AN: what a fucking journey this was!! I’m so happy i kept yall updated through it because it was so nice to have you cheering me on and to know you were excited for it to come out 🥺 did i expect it to be three times as long as part one? no! are their feelings a bit dramatic? yes! is this fanfiction? yes, so i can make it as dramatic as i want! people get married after one month, they’re allowed to be in love after four! ps you don’t know how hard it was to keep more breeding kink from slipping into this like it’s borderline impossible for me to write seungcheol without breeding kink but i did my best and i did it for you

all i have left to say is this: you deserve someone who will love you like seungcheol loves reader! you deserve someone who will listen to you and respect you and do everything in their power to make you feel good! that’s what i, user sluttywoozi, wants for you! remember that the next time you think about settling for less than what you deserve!

Taglist: @so-da-1 @plskillme22 @nightshadeblooming @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @gyuguys @jennwonwoo @lelestarmy @disneyprincessshuri @alexbarberry @scoupsjin @sourkimchi @bangrauhl13 @meowmeowminnie @jungkooknippleanddicksucker @lukeys-giggle @polyglot-ton267 @bubbletroubble @bouclesdefeu @sunshinekyeom-sang @ujimatchaaa

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