#I do not want to see this used as some sort of inspo

[jazjelspen]

ex-girlfriend

jeff the killer x fem! reader

(you've dated Jeff the Killer since high school and have known him for longer. You stayed even after he became who he is now.. but what if you became stronger than him? what if you became a completely new person entirely? and left your heavy-hearted killer boyfriend to rot?)

(notes: took inspo from fanon Jeff but also tried to write him into his own person of course :) will try to be realistic when it calls for it + took some creative liberties in certain aspects too. I also apologize if the characterization of Jeff and others isn't super fitting.. I'm still getting used to how I want to express them and construct them as characters and the world around them.)

(CAUTION!!!: includes dark/serious themes, mention of murder/death, use of cannab1s, slight implications of s3x, toxic relationships, physical abu$3, possible ooc(?) )

(NOT PROOFREAD)

[part 1/2]

you and jeff are a killer duo.

seriously and figuratively.

you two have always been attracted to each other, a connection you two couldn't see but you both knew it was there.

the older and closer you two got, the more you two realized you had more in common than you two initially assumed..

way, wayyy more in common.

but to skip a long origin story short, let me give you some details on how you and Jeff suddenly got separated in the way that you did.

you see, you and Jeff resided at the Slender Mansion.. mostly just to get Slender off your backs due to you guys finding solidarity and a sense of safety in the deep dark forests, far away from home. it kept you two safe from police, as well as anyone or anything else that could be a threat.

of course, the specific area you went into was territory of the thin and tall boss of the forests.. and you would've been dead meat if you two didn't create a sort of alliance with the deity, not exactly proxies yet you two still had to trade something in return for your lives.. the lives and bodies of others seemed to quell Slenderman's hunger quite well.

nonetheless, tonight was one of those nights in which you and Jeff had to find more lives to take, blood to shed.

this night was different though, as Jeff was currently stuck in your shared room after going through a minor operation at the hands of Eyeless Jack, another being that came and left as he pleased.

"You think he'll recover quick?" You perked up as you watched EJ sew in the last stitch in a cut that reopened earlier as he was helping Jeff into your room, cutting up the thread before standing back as you two stared at your injured boyfriend from beside the bed he laid on.

"Not as quick as you may think," spoke EJ, his calm, raspy, and slightly demonic voice sounding monotone as he isn't intending to comfort you in the slightest but just to inform you. "Slenderman's healing properties can only work so fast, the rest depends on his own body's will to repair itself."

"Makes sense, with how much the victim fought back and the cops almost got him by a hair.. " you let out a huff through your nose before crossing your arms over your chest and shook your head slightly. "It has never gotten this bad before..." You murmured before moving away to open the door for EJ to find his way out. "I know you don't usually accept 'thank you's but, thanks. I owe you one for saving his ass."

"Hm." hummed the blue masked being. He may have the form of a human, and sound like one to a certain extent.. but he doesn't have the feelings of one for all you knew. "I'm sure you know how to stitch him up again if another injury reopens, I won't be here the rest of the week as I'll be doing my own business elsewhere."

"Got it.." You opened the creaky wooden oak door to let him through, and he left just as fast as he came in.

Closing the door behind you and letting go of the rusty brass door knob, you sighed in exhaustion.

"Yknow, you've been awfully quiet--"

"Shut the fuck up or I'm going to slice your throat."

Your shoulders dropped as soon as you heard Jeff's empty threat escape his throat. You walked closer to him, your shoes making small thuds and the wooden floors creaking beneath your feet.

"There you are." you cooed, finally hearing him talk after being silent the entire time.. incredibly out of character for him yet you were sure the shame of getting as injured as he is now and having to be 'taken care of' definitely got to him. "I almost started missing you."

"Get my knife, get the rest of your shit, and let's move.. we have people to kill for fucks sake.." Jeff's hoarse voice cracked even further as he attempted to sit up yet the pain coming from his abdomen only caused his nerves his fire up, making him fall back onto the moldy mattress yelping in pain. "You're absolutely stupid for even thinking you're able to go out tonight Jeff." You proceeded to sit on the empty side of the bed beside him, your hand slowly reaching over to gently caress his brutally cut up cheek yet your lover only harshly smacked it away with the back of his own hand. "So.. you're telling me you're going to ignore what I fucking telling you to do?" Jeff groveled and huffed in irritation, if he wasn't so incapacitated he'd probably be pulling you by your arm or hair to get you to do what he told you. "Since when have you gotten so brave, doll?"

"Since I followed you and helped you kill your own family that night." You pulled your hand away, reminiscing the night when your Jeff turned into who he is now.

You remembered how much your heart swelled when you saw him covered in his family's blood, his fresh cut up smile and red inflamed burns across his body and face. You continued to love him just as much as you did before he became so disfigured.

He was your religion, and you followed him in devotion.

"Now, we still have to keep our deal with the big boss right? I'll do your kills for the night, then when your better tomorrow we'll finish up whatever else we have to do.. or hell we can just kill for fun to make it up to you, " you hopped off the bed as you spoke and walked over to a wooden rotting vanity in the corner of your room, with drawers that were unable to close and doors that were hanging by their hinges. Your hand reached over to get an empty crunched up ziplock bag and continued on to walk back to your boyfriend with the object in your hand. "What do you say? I'll even get you some of the good stuff to make you feel better." you spoke lovingly, your hand with the bag grazing over his misshapen nose as he inhaled it deeply with a faint sense of delight. It still lingered the smell of his favorite thing to smoke and get high off of.. aside from your kisses and affection of course.

"Fuck that smells good.." he mumbled before his beady black eyes then suddenly shot up at you with this look of angry hesitation. "This is the only damn time I'm ever letting you out of my sight, make it quick, come back, and if you take a fucking second too long I'll get up and drag you back by your hair myself, got it gorgeous?.."

"You won't even have to bother Jeff." you bent over slightly to give him a quick peck on the lips, but just as much as he was addicted to the green he was also addicted to your warmth, your lips, your presence and self.

You couldn't help but have to suddenly sustain your own body weight by resting an arm beside Jeff's head as his own uninjured arm went to grab you by the back of your head to pull you closer in a deeper, much more passionate kiss.

Hearts beating aggressively in a dark passion that was just as fiery and scarlet as the blood you two would spill on the daily, the faint smell of dried blood, mud, and rubbing alcohol reeked as you two struggled to inhale air with your noises clashing against each other, his aggressive and hungry kisses tasting of iron but also of old cigarettes and booze.

Normally this would disgust any one else that wasn't you, but you liked the way he smelled, how he tasted.. it reassured you that this was in fact Jeff, your Jeff.

Eventually, he would finally let you go by harshly pushing you away in order to break the kiss. He knew that if you stayed any longer he was gonna want you all to himself for the rest of the night, as close to him as you physically could.

"Get out of here and get back, ______. Don't make me wait longer than I have to."

You smiled at him, a sweet and sinister little smile that would somehow always get him hard every time you did it.

"You've got nothing to worry about."

two weeks.

two weeks passed since you disappeared that night.

Jeff recovered the night after you left, but you could imagine the absolute horror and rage he felt when he realized you never came back later that night.

With other residents also living in the mansion, residents with personalities and have bits of humanity left similar to Jeff, you can also imagine the slight wave of rumors to those that knew or noticed the two of you in your years in the mansion. Some say you made a deal with Slender and got to leave, others say that you got kidnapped, that you got brainwashed, caught by police, sacrificed to another higher being, stuck in an asylum or- simply that you died. There were endless possibilities but they all ended the same:

you hung Jeff dry, left his grasp and simply didn't come back.

Jeff would obviously try to get in contact with Slenderman as to know your condition, since he knew that the deity had the consciousness and psyches of every being or person he's made some kind of contact with in his hands.

Although he had to go through one, two, three of Slender's proxies, just to have a word with him somehow.. He would eventually get a word from the big boss through one of his more well known lackeys.

"She's fine, Jeffery. She isn't dead, she hasn't made any deals with him, and she isn't injured to death or whatever." the annoyed and exasperated voice of Masky would echo in the empty halls that the pair stood in, the arms of the mustard-yellow colored jacket would fold over his chest while also being in a sort of stance that expressed the fact that he simply just didn't want to be there.

"Then why the hell is she not back?? Does he know where she could be? If she was kidnapped? If she got arrested or put in a fucking ward?" Jeff yelled in an almost desperate sort of tone yet he would never admit it openly.

"Look, I don't fucking care whether she's alive, dead, stuck in a fucking hole or hell! if she's sucking some other guy's dick that isn't yours! But all I know that is that if she left on purpose he would've already had me or one of the others to get her back, but he hasn't so maybe she's nearby or some shit like that."

Anyone around could see that Jeff was on the verge of reaching over for his knife and cut Masky in half, yet he knew better than to do that to him of all people. "Does he at least know where she is?? I'll get her myself if I have to just give me a fucking address, some place to know where she could be!.."

If Masky wasn't wearing a mask, he'd probably be rolling his eyes to oblivion, irritated beyond belief at something like this even being a problem. "No. But as I already fucking said, if he isn't asking one of us to chase her down and get her back then you shouldn't have to overreact the way you are right now." the proxy proceeded to brush past him without a care, but said one last small thing before he left Jeff's vicinity completely.

"By the way, stop bothering the other proxies about this as we could care less about your girlfriend, just get a new one and fuck off!"

Jeff stood there, trembling in an anger he hasn't felt since the day he attacked his bullies and his brother took the blame for it.

He wasn't exactly reassured, but he also knew that he was very limited and there wasn't much he could do.

But he was restless, so you bet your ass he was going to go look for you even if it was just stalking the streets and killing anyone in his wake.

luckily for him, his waiting would end soon enough.

the week after that, he'd get the news of his life.

he'd been killing all week, killing innocents as he usually did but at a quicker and animalistic pace, he would almost get caught this time by the cops yet again but before his spree could continue he received some news thanks to that cheeky voice that would speak to him through the screens.

he would come back to the mansion, battered and bruised beyond belief. the calluses on his hands split and bled, cuts everywhere all old and fresh, he was ruthless in his murders as well as he was careless.

he needed you to ground him, you were the reason as to why he has even been alive for as long as he has.

his hand seemed to be superglued to the handle of his sharpened knife even as he was dragging his legs towards EJ's basement, where he was led to believe he would find what he was looking for.

He aggressively banged on the metal door with his fist in anticipation, not being able to wait any longer than how much he's already had to. The one to answer the door would be Eyeless Jack as it is his "resting" place in the mansion so to speak.

Once the door opened Jeff would quickly push past EJ not needing to be accepted in the space for him to go in.

"Where is she??" he shouted, his voice boasting in the cold concrete room. "I was told you found her, where the fuck is she?"

EJ would calmly close the door before slowly leading Jeff towards a corner of the large space, where a long, clean-white room divider seemed to hide something.

well, more like someone.

That was when Jeff finally saw you, your limp body laying there and your face had this gentle expression you'd usually make when you were sleeping. Beside you stood Nurse Ann, who was gently cleaning the countless cuts and lacerations you had around your body with several cotton pads and changing gauzes as well.

Jeff's heart fell down to his stomach, he would've started reeling and throwing up if he didn't rush to take a closer look at you only to see that your chest was still rising and falling.

He sighed in relief.

"As you can see, she's alive." spoke EJ as he took a few steps closer, "Nurse Ann found her as she was coming back to the mansion, she found her body laying on the edge of where Slender's territory ends and the rest of forest. She also claims that ______ wasn't there when she left, so she probably appeared a little later that same day."

Jeff's hand trembled slightly as he reached out to touch your face with the back of his hand, yet hesitated slightly when his hand could almost feel the warmth of your skin.

But that's when he took a minute to really take in the rest of your appearance.

Your entire body even your face was dirtied in dried mud and soil, your fingernails were dirty and chipped, your arms and cheeks were decorated in scratches and cuts of various sizes, and your clothes.. seemed to have been replaced with a clean hospital gown and your missing shoes were replaced by socks.

EJ continued on, "And so you don't go attacking me, Nurse Ann changed her clothes. According to her they were tattered and beyond repair, and that they were completely soiled in blood."

"Blood?" Jeff spoke up in slight concern,

"The blood wasn't hers."

[faraway-sunshine]

What my typical meal plan looks like on school days

Breakfast

This is the one meal I make myself. Normally I just eat dry cereal (I don't like it getting soggy). Most days, Mom gives me a granola bar or two before I leave. I think she thinks that I'm not making myself enough on those days, but doesn't want to start an argument. I also have to have a certain amount of milk a day, so I get some of it over and done with at breakfast. I'm not sure how anyone likes milk. I have to water mine down as Mom started getting full fat to try and help me put on weight, but full fat's gross.

Recess Snack

This is normally when I eat the granola bars. I also have an apple or mandarin in my lunchbox. I have to put the peel or core in my lunchbox, not the bin, as proof.

Lunch

The cafeteria has a lot of great smelling things, but the line at the serving counter is rowdier than a full watering hole during a drought. People get shoved, money lost or stolen, kids trip and get food all over their uniform.

So I just eat my lunch. So far Mom always makes me salad sandwiches, with chicken or boiled eggs or something, and they get soggy but I know they have a lot of nutrients. After the first day I started to unpick the slices to eat the fillings on their own, then leave the bread as it's all gross by then. I also usually have a couple Oreos, some dried fruit, and some of those crackers with cheese on the top.

It's quite different to when I went to school before; either Mari would make lunch with me so I could tailor it, or Dad would make a bento box or something.

Although we're mostly only supposed to bring water to school, I also have permission to bring a juice carton to help with my vitamins.

Afternoon snack

When I get home is pretty much the only time I'm supposed to be trusted to eat something without a teacher or Mom watching. Mostly I forget, but on Friday I came home so tired that I ate half a sleeve of Oreos and finished the milk so I wouldn't need to worry about it at dinner. I felt guilty when Mom seemed so proud of that, especially as I got a stomach ache from it.

Dinner

Varies. Mom often comes home tired, so mostly she either puts a ready meal in the over for 20 minutes or the microwave for 20 seconds. Whatever it is, the deal is that I at least try everything on my plate and make an effort to eat as much as I feel like, but that I stop when I feel I can't have more without a stomach ache or throwing up again or becoming too tense and anxious next time. She also always tries to make sure there's at least 2 kinds of vegetable in each one, and she leans towards stuff that can be easily reheated if I feel hungrier later.

Dessert

The rule back when Mari and Dad were here used to be that you only got dessert if you finished your dinner, but now Mom just gives me candy or chocolate afterwards anyway because if I ate a lot, it's a reward, and if I didn't, well, it's extra calories that I need anyway.

(Monday 11th September, 2000, 7:26 AM)

[muchmossymess]

WAIT okay i figured it out

After failing to convince the royal family of his skills in defeating ganon, revali takes it upon himself to prove he could do anything the knight could do, but better. Stealing the master sword and returning to rito village, he awaits their pleas for his talents.

Zelda journeys to "hear revali out," while link follows to search for his sword during the distraction. After exploring the suspiciously empty village, zelda is confronted by revali (QUE MUSIC), while link finds the master sword. But something isnt quite right...

[ifnotlovepersevering]

Down the Road (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: your summon to the Witches’ Road unexpectedly reconnects you with the witch that left you behind

Warnings: angsty, anger between R and A, fight scene, injury (A), flashback to past abandonment, R is lowkey into dark magic but in denial, lovers to hurt strangers 😔 whatever will we do

A/N: I used a few different requests in my inbox as inspo. It can also be read as a continuation of Closer. I’m planning on a part two but am open to suggestions on where to take this next! Enjoy 🖤

Tag List: @nyx-aira @crystalline-possession @clxwnnyy @lilibeth-tate @highgaytohell @amethyst-bitch @shinkomiii @agnessharknes @academiagaymess @midnight-lestrange

A summon to the Witches’ Road seemed like exactly what you needed right now. You’d been keeping to yourself these days, staying out of trouble. But it’d been too long since you’d had some excitement and your hands were itching for something new. You were going in blind, but that’s always fun, right?

At least that’s what you’d thought. When the smoke of your white magic disappeared, you were greeted with the sight of your new ragtag coven. You counted four. Where’s the fifth?

“Hello,” you grinned at the youngest, a pale boy with dark hair. “I’m Y/N, I believe someone called?”

“Y/N? As in awesome-moon-powers-Y/N?” The boy exclaimed, grabbing the arm of the tallest one, who seemed equally excited.

You laughed. “I didn’t realize my reputation preceded me so much.”

“Are you kidding?” Now it was the tall one exclaiming. “You’re like, so cool. Incorporating the moon into your power? It makes you the jack of all trades. Healing, light manipulation, water control. I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Moon magic?” The older woman seemed sort of dazed. “I’d heard stories…but have never seen it for myself.”

Before you could respond to the group’s praise, a familiar voice rang out. “What the hell are all of you harping ab-”

You turned around at the same time as footsteps behind you halted in their tracks. You felt your heart drop as you realized why the voice was familiar. It couldn’t be.

Agatha Harkness stood in front of you in all her glory. Gone was the young witch you had known, in her place a woman exuding power and elegance. Both of you eyed each other, surprise and apprehension on your faces.

•••

Your last memory of Agatha was that smirk of hers. You two had started as rivals but a trip that you went on together changed that. You grew closer and animosity turned to friendship, which turned into something much more. So many nights of you sneaking into each other’s rooms, honing your skills, and eventually using your hands to explore each other.

On one of your many visits to the woods for spell practice, the two of you encountered a shapeshifter. You and Agatha fought it off but it forced you to use the full extent of your powers. You were young and had only just started to incorporate the moon into your witchcraft. The fight drained you completely, leaving you weak.

At home, you were checked into the infirmary. News spread quickly of the battle; Agatha, being Evanora’s daughter, caught attention easily. Her power had been a topic of dispute within the coven for some time. You resented the others for how they treated her, especially her own mother. The parts of Agatha that made them turn away were the same you admired undyingly. You loved her.

You had been drifting in and out of consciousness for hours before you finally woke up to see Agatha at your bedside. “They want a formal questioning,” she had told you softly, her hand holding yours. In response to your furrowed brow, Agatha brushed the hair from your forehead. “It’s nothing serious. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You sighed, knowing Evanora took every chance she could to hurt Agatha. “Give them hell anyway.”

“You know I will.” Agatha had smirked, and with a soft kiss, she was gone. Unbeknownst to you, it was the last time you were going to see her.

You woke up the next day, surrounded by the early morning darkness. It was eerily silent; you’d expected Agatha to be back by now. Your strength had returned, and you searched for Agatha everywhere you could think of. No one was around, every room empty.

Eventually you had come to the clearing and saw the husks of the other witches. Their bodies surrounded a post, covered in scorch marks from what you could only assume to be Agatha. You felt yourself freeze as the truth dawned on you. It was more than questions, it was a sentencing. Yet Agatha had obviously survived.

Hot tears had filled in your eyes and a lump formed in your throat before you had collapsed into sobs. She’d survived, of course she had. But she hadn’t come for you. Agatha, the girl you loved without question, whom you had embraced completely. The girl who encouraged you with your magic, the one you’d helped with controlling her own. She had left you.

Over time, the hurt faded but it never quite left. You never looked back, not at her, nor the version of you that broke that day in the clearing. You drew from the pain and let it fuel your ambition. As you travelled and your power grew, you’d heard stories about Agatha. How she’d honed those skills you’d practiced together into something to be both admired and feared. But her betrayal was enough for you to never want to seek her out again.

•••

You blinked, snapping out of your reverie.

“Y/N was the other name on the list? I can’t believe you wanted to leave her behind.” The boy’s voice piped up from behind you.

You scoffed. “Don’t be so surprised.” There was no hiding the snark in your voice, and you saw Agatha’s face drop right before you turned on your heel. “This was a mistake,” you muttered, walking away from the group to recollect yourself.

The rest of the group watched as you left. “What did she mean by that?” Alice hissed at Agatha. Everyone looked at her expectantly.

“Well,” Agatha grinned sheepishly. “We may have some…uh…unfinished business if you will.”

Jenn rolled her eyes. “Whatever, you have to make her stay. We need her to do this.”

Agatha groaned as the others nodded and nudged her towards the area you’d retreated to. But the annoyance was an act. Seeing your name on the list had stopped her in her tracks, bringing back memories she’d tried to bury. And now here you were, and she couldn’t hide from the swirl of emotions within her like she’s used to doing. Her heart still ached for you but it was unlikely you’d want anything to do with her.

She sauntered over to where you were sitting on a log by yourself. Standing close to you, she had a moment to take in your appearance. Somehow you were even more beautiful than she remembered. Time had clearly treated you well, and Agatha found her gaze catching on your features as she took in the sight of the face that haunted her memories.

She cleared her throat. “You can’t leave now that you’re here. The Road. It won’t let you.”

You looked up at her from where you sat. “You think I don’t know that?” You snapped. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew it was you.”

That stung. “Well it’s nice to see you again too, doll.” Agatha sneered.

“Oh save it, Agatha.” You stood up, eye level with the other witch. “I think we both remember who left who. Don’t play dumb now.”

“You act like I made that decision by flipping a coin. You don’t know the half of it.” The nonchalant attitude Agatha had been putting up was slipping away, revealing the raw emotion underneath.

You shook your head and turned your back to her. “Forget it. I’m already going to have to suffer through the rest of this thing anyway. I don’t need some shitty explanation from you.”

But Agatha wasn’t one to take that for an answer. She grabbed your arm, forcing you to turn back and face her. “No,” she hissed. “You don’t get to do what they did. Don’t repaint me as callous because I was never like that with you.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling a lump forming at the back of your throat. You couldn’t help it - the hurt you’d buried for this long was coming back up, and it was as sharp as the day it’d arrived.

“Callous?” You laughed humourlessly. “No, leaving me behind wasn’t callous. It was cruel. You’re cruel.”

You could see Agatha’s cheeks flushed in anger, and her mouth opened with another rebuttal when a shriek rang through the air back where the rest of the coven was standing. Both of you jumped, and Agatha dropped your arm.

“What the hell was that?” You shouted at Agatha over the shrieks, which had grown louder.

“Salem Seven ring a bell?” Agatha snarked, but her eyes were filled with fear.

“What the fuck, Agatha.” You all but yelled as the two of you began running back. Somehow you’d never encountered any of the Seven before but that didn’t mean you wanted to start now. They were definitely pissed at Agatha, but it was unlikely that they were happy with you either, as the only other survivor of their mothers’ massacre.

The shrieks were coming from both the coven and a dark, hooded figure who you assumed was one of the Seven floating above them. “Run!” The boy screamed, and everyone began sprinting down the road.

Suddenly you heard Agatha cry out and a thud. You turned to see Agatha on the ground, the hooded figure hovering over her. You stared incredulously as Agatha put her arms up to shield herself, but made no other move to put up a defence. What is she doing?

The Salem Seven witch lunged towards Agatha and you quickly shot a beam at her, making her fall to the ground. As you ran over, you saw the witch was already stirring, not quite dead yet. You began reciting a spell that’d become second nature for you now, your hands falling into the familiar motions.

Agatha watched in awe as you drew the many surrounding shadows towards the figure on the ground. You made a sharp movement with your hand and suddenly the figure that was beginning to rise from the ground was being surrounded by dark tendrils.

Muffled screams could be heard as the shadows twisted tighter and tighter, until the figure fell limp to the ground. You weren’t done, however. Another practiced movement of your hands and you watched as the shadows engulfed the witch, dragging her downwards into the ground until she disappeared like vapour.

With the threat gone, you rushed to Agatha’s side. You could see a gash on her arm where her sleeve had torn, blood seeping out of the wound. “What were you thinking? Why didn’t you fight back?” Anger mixed with worry as you searched Agatha’s face for answers.

“Careful there, Y/N. Wouldn’t want to look like you care.” When you didn’t indulge her teasing, the other witch sighed. “Why do you think I’m here?” She asked, gesturing around her. She saw the confusion in your face and waved her hand dismissively. “Long story doll, I won’t bore you.”

Typical. Even all those years ago Agatha would opt to keep you in the dark rather than explain herself. “Fine.” You said, helping her stand. “Let’s find somewhere to sit so I can patch you up.”

You turned to see the rest of the group standing nearby, a mixture of awe and apprehension across their faces. The boy seemed the most awestruck. “How did you do that?” He exclaimed. “Where did she go?”

The oldest of the group spoke before you could. “The shadow realm.” She answered, eyeing you warily. “No one should be doing that.”

“Why don’t we um, find a place to sleep? While Y/N takes care of Agatha.” The tall one spoke now, gesturing for the rest of the group to follow her and leave you and Agatha alone. You watched as they hurried away, the short one throwing a worried glance back at you.

“So, shadow work huh?” Agatha spoke lowly as you examined her arm. “Didn’t realize you’d begun dabbling in my side of things.” Her tone was playful but probing.

You turned your head sharply towards her. “I haven’t. It’s not the same thing.”

Agatha chuckled darkly. “Oh isn’t it? Don’t get so high and mighty now Y/N. I’ve heard things. That good girl persona of yours may be working on everyone else, but not me.”

You didn’t answer, instead pulling her arm into the moonlight coming in through the trees. At your silence, Agatha kept going. “‘Oh wow! Moon girl is so amazing and talented! She can do anything!’” She said mockingly. “All admiration when you’re doing what they like. But you saw the look on their faces just now. Everybody switches up when we start talking real power. The kind you and I have.”

Okay yes, you could admit that the shadow stuff is a bit iffy. But it wasn’t anywhere close to as iffy as using the Darkhold, like you’d heard Agatha did. That was different.

“All I’m saying,” Agatha continued, as she watched you weave the light with your hands to heal her open wound. “Is that we’re much bigger than them. Than this. We’re destined for domination, Y/N.”

You shook your head. Years later and it was still all about power with her. Grand plans and limited following-through were classic Agatha. Enough. You stood up, Agatha’s arm now healed. “You’re talking about powers you had, and that I have.” You said coldly, taking satisfaction in the way her jaw clenched at your words. “Maybe focus on getting those back first.”

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed away.

[ryukatters]

it's your fault for loving me — y. okkotsu ⁺˚⋆｡°✩

⟡ pairing: yuuta okkotsu x fem!reader

⟡ cw: /DARK CONTENT, /yandere! yuuta, /dubcon, /NONCON, ex-bf!yuuta, stalking, he breaks into your apartment, he /manhandles you (he’s strong), /implied babytrapping, /possessiveness, MINORS DNI

⟡ wc: 2.9k (someone sedate me)

⟡ song inspo: language by brent faiyaz

⟡ summary: Your ex boyfriend breaks into your apartment. What do you mean he needs to leave? He’s staying right here.

The slow, muffled drag of your feet ricochet off the hallway walls as you trudge along to your apartment. You fumble with your keys for a little bit, but find no resistance as you insert it into the slot. 

“Huh, that’s odd…I could’ve sworn I locked it.”

You chalk it up to exhaustion. You're only practically ever home to sleep due to the way you've been throwing yourself onto mission after mission. Even now, sleep is a luxury you can barely afford. You kick off your shoes lazily, not bothering putting them in their rightful place on the shoe rack. 

Maybe before, you would have cared more about keeping the house tidy. Or maybe before, your loving boyfriend would pamper and coddle you the minute you opened the front door, so you never had to worry about the little details like putting your shoes in the right place.

You were exhausted. 

You wanted nothing more than to wash up and plop down onto your soft, soft bed. You don’t even make it to your bedroom door before you pause, anxiety prickling your nerves. 

You sense him before you see him. Yuuta’s cursed energy has always had a tendency to seep out whenever he was around you. Whether it’s a testament to how he’s able to fully relax in your presence or a display of raw power, you’re not sure. 

"You're home," a certain black-haired sorcerer chirps. "How was your mission?"

In the past, simply hearing Yuuta’s voice would be enough to melt away the pent up stress from a hard day of exorcizing curses. It’d soothe your aching muscles and tired soul as you let yourself be enveloped by the weight of his affection. But right now, it did everything except that. 

The shiver of excitement that used to run down your spine is replaced by trepidation caused by the only person who used to be able to comfort you. 

You know better than to ask how he knew you were on a mission, much less ask how he managed to break into your apartment. It seems he's been in here for a while, with the way he seems to have made himself at home on your bed, much like the way he used to before. 

"Why are you here?"

The question makes him sit up. 

“Because I missed you. Is that so bad?”

You want to laugh. The whole situation is all sorts of fucked up, and the two of you are talking about it the same way one would the weather.

“Yuuta, we broke up 2 months ago,” you press, vexation lacing your words. You could never imagine yourself using that tone on him. Yuuta’s always been so meticulous in loving you, in making sure you were happy.  He’s never given you a reason to be upset with him. But that was then, and this was now. 

You could say whatever you wanted to say. You were tired and definitely not in the mood to deal with a supposed burglar that happens to be in the form of your ex-boyfriend.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he says simply.

“You walked out on me!”

“Because I thought you needed some space. And now I’m back. But I never said we were breaking up.” 

Space was an extremely generous term for what Yuuta gave you. If you could consider watching your every move from a distance, keeping tabs on who you talk to, and making sure you stay out of trouble secretly, “space.” He would never let you know that though. It’s too much, too soon.

He couldn't help it, not when his precious baby could get hurt. He’d never forgive himself if that happened.

“Come and sit, my love. You look so tired.” He pats the space next to him. You will your heart not to flutter at the familiar nickname. 

Your body moves before your brain can catch up. It’s almost like listening to him was muscle memory. You pause in your step, cross your arms, and glare at him. 

“Leave, Yuuta. I don’t want to see you.” The words rise from the very depths of your soul and spill out of your mouth like bile, burning and spiteful. It hurts to speak to him like this, even after he’d abandoned you with no hopes of return. 

“Sit, love.” A little more demanding this time. “I’m not repeating myself again.” 

The tension in the air is palpable, so thick you can cut it with a knife.

You take a seat. Yuuta doesn’t miss a beat before he has his hands on you. 

“Missed you,” his hand reaches out to cup your jaw, thumb rubbing against the plushness of your cheek. 

You’ve always been so soft, it’s one of the things Yuuta loves the most about you. 

You flinch. Blame it on the adrenaline coursing through your body like wildfire. Your fight or flight response is shot. Yuuta’s touch seems to rewrite everything that’s been hardwired into your brain. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple, before moving down to kiss the tip of your nose, and both of your cheeks. Each press of his lips leaves feels like it’s being seared into your flesh, a metaphorical branding iron of sorts— to show that you’re Yuuta’s and Yuuta’s only. 

Your mind goes blank when he sucks a kiss into the side of your neck, whimpering pathetically as he grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin. 

“We can’t do this,” you assert, but the words get stuck in your throat, so it comes out more as a whiny sigh. Your body seems to have a tendency to betray you when it comes to him.

“But we can,” Yuuta coos, pushing you down until your back is flat against the mattress. He takes both of your hands in his, lifting them up until they’re above your head, effectively pinning you in place. “We’re doing it right now, aren’t we?” 

Yuuta can appear pretty unassuming to outsiders. He’s quiet, reserved, almost meek. If one were to take a closer look, however, they’d realize that beneath that unostentatious front was a more commanding aura, one that forces you to submit to his whims with his sweet tongue and sensuous touches. Perfectly calculated, perfectly executed. 

"I fucking hate you,” you spit, thrashing against his hold, but to no avail. 

"No you don't,” Yuuta shuts you down with conviction. Like it’s the absolute truth— the kind that can’t be twisted or broken. It almost feels like he’s chastising you for thinking otherwise. “Take that back right now.”

To be honest, hearing those words stung more than any physical blow you could have ever landed on him. Has he not shown you enough love? Or have you already forgotten? 

Isn’t what you have pure love? 

A hand wraps around your neck, lithe fingers inching up before they grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him.  “I said,” blunt fingernails digging into your skin, “take it back.”

You sputter out an apology with teary eyes, an odd mix of humiliation and regret seeping into your bones, stomach swirling with shame and to your horror, a tinge of anticipation. 

It’s pathetic, really, how easily you give in. 

“Now give me a kiss, sweetheart.” Yuuta bridges the gap between the two of you. He presses his already throbbing bulge against your clothed pussy, moaning into your mouth appreciatively.

You feel so dizzy you think you might explode. 

Yuuta makes quick work of the buttons on your uniform, releasing your wrists so he can throw the offending garment and all your underthings beneath it to some random corner of the room. 

Calloused hands roam your body, squeezing and groping, as if to map out the cartography of your flesh, committing each peak and valley to memory. He watches in fascination how your skin bristles with goosebumps in the wake of his touch. 

He ignores your pleading cries and attempts to push him off. Yuuta is being driven by pure instinct alone. That sick, twisted voice in his head that he’s always tried to suppress whispers. It goads him on to take what he wants, to make sure you remember that you’re his, and his alone. 

He knows that you haven’t been seeing anyone. You were always so loyal, even when you were upset with him. Anyone who did try was taken care of the minute they left your sight. 

It’s been far too long since he’s had you. His desire fills him with a sort of quiet rage, one that metamorphoses into something darker, more sinister and morose the longer he goes without you. Almost like a curse that’s gone far too long without feeding. 

Yuuta Okkotsu loves you to the point of madness.

He thinks he might literally implode in on himself any second longer without you.

It’s almost laughable how different the two of you are. An ethereal beauty too good for this world, yet here you were in between the legs of a cursed man with too much love than he knows what to do with. 

“Yuuta, please,” you cry out. You flail your legs in an attempt to kick Yuuta off. He catches both with ease, throwing them over his shoulder to slide your bottoms off, leaving you completely bare. 

He can’t suppress the groan that tumbles past his lips. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers. 

You’re dewy eyed and gasping, nails clawing at his forearms and beating at his chest in a last ditch effort to stand your ground. Nothing can deter him. 

Yuuta could easily heal himself if he wanted to. But the angry red welts and blossoming hues of purple on his pale skin are a badge of honor of the utmost prestige. It’s undeniable proof that you’re real, that his love for you isn’t just a fragment of his imagination, and that none of this was just some pipe dream. He could take a little pain if that meant you got to be his. 

He’s always been yours without any reservations. 

“You can cry if you want, if it helps,” he says genuinely, but the gleam in his eyes shifts into something predatory. “But you should know you’re really fucking wet.” As if to prove a point, he slowly fucks his middle finger into your weeping hole, then his index, then his ring. They curl up to rub against that spongy spot just the way you like. 

You let out a sharp gasp, spine arching off the mattress. 

You tried to ignore him—detach yourself from the whole situation, let him get his fill, and be done with this whole ordeal. But it’s Yuuta— the man has a grasp on both the corporal and spiritual parts of you that you can’t bring yourself to understand. It seems like he knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. And right now, he’s managed to make a home in all five of your senses. There’s no escape. He's made sure of that. 

He pulls out his fingers with a lewd squelch. A clear sheen of liquid coats every digit, stringy as he parts them to show you. He smiles knowingly.

“You keep fighting me, but it turns out you want it after all, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks burn in humiliation. Whether it’s from the situation at hand or the truth behind his words, you’re not too sure. 

“Don’t you know?” Yuuta rasps, fingers going back to work their way inside you rhythmically, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice, paying special attention to how you try to mask how your face contorts in pleasure. 

He presses his forehead against yours, willing you to look at him wordlessly. “I know what’s best for you. I know what you want. And right now, this little pussy wants to be fucked. Isn’t that right, my love?” 

He’s met with a breathless moan. You’re so close. Tears threaten to fall as your chest heaves in exertion, trying not to teeter off the edge too soon. 

You look so pathetic it’s insane. Yuuta swears he can feel his mouth water in anticipation for what’s bound to come next. He thrusts his fingers with calculating speed and precision, the heel of his palm slapping against your neglected clit just right. 

He leans down right when you cum, lips catching yours as you moan into his mouth. Satisfaction swells in his chest as your slick drips down his wrist. 

“You’re ready.” 

Yuuta unbuttons his pants, pulling it down just enough for his cock to spring free, tip slapping his abdomen as it leaks with precum. He fists it, jerking his hand up and down his length. He slaps it against your clit once, twice, and a third time before he slips it inside your weeping hole. 

Your walls spasm around his cock to accommodate his sheer size and girth, struggling a bit more than usual. You feel so full. It’s been far too long since he’s fucked you. You claw at his lower abdomen, trying to make space between the two of you. It’s all too much, all at once. Yuuta won’t have it. He slips his hands under your sweaty thighs, pinning your ankles on either side of your head, effectively folding you in half. You cry out at the stretch.

“Always take me so well, angel.” 

He sets a steady pace, dragging his cock in, pulling out, and then back in with an absurd amount of force. The sound of skin on skin ricochets against your bedroom walls like a sort of cacophonous symphony. You don’t get the luxury of the sweet, slow thrusts he usually blesses you with, while he coos about how good you are for him. 

“Where’s all that attitude from earlier? Am I making you feel that good?” 

You glower, refusing to acknowledge the fact that your body betrays your mind— that Yuuta’s bringing you closer and closer to nirvana the further he drags you down into hell. 

He slides his hand down your tummy, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Yuuta—!” You clench around his length, hurtling towards your second orgasm quickly. 

“You’re so greedy. Cumming again already?” 

He’s met with silence. He’ll forgive your transgressions this time around. He’ll just have to teach you how to be his good girl again. 

A particularly rough thrust has you choking back a moan.

“Thought so. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Your peak hits you like a crashing wave. Your body tenses, leaving you gasping for air as you clench around Yuuta’s cock. You cry out deliriously, falling apart as Yuuta continues to pound into you. It’s too much, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. You’re stuck.

“I’m the only one that can make you feel this way, understand?” He grits his teeth, staving off his release just a little longer. He fucks you through your orgasm thoroughly as he chases his own. 

He presses all of his body weight on top of you, your legs on either side of his head as he folds you into a mating press. He groans at the change in position, allowing him to fuck into you even deeper. 

Realization cuts through your cloudy judgment like a sword. 

“Yuuta— Yuuta, please. Pull out–!” 

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. He’s rambling now, intoxicated by all you have to offer, yet you’re the one paying the price. The effects of overstimulation are taking over now, your body twitching involuntarily with each thrust. 

“I’m not leaving you, ever. It’s just you and me.” 

You shake your head in objection, mind too hazy to voice out any resistance. Tears well up, threatening to spill from your lash line. 

Yuuta nods with a grin, canines glinting, just like a predator that’s caught its prey. “It’s true, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it. Say I’m it for you. That I’m the only one.” 

“Say it.” 

“You’re it for me, Yu. The only one.” You babble, tears streaming freely now. 

You feel the moment he reaches his plateau— the way his dick twitches inside of you right before your walls are being painted white with splashes of Yuuta’s hot cum. 

Your fate’s been sealed. 

He fucks into you a few more times, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he rides out his orgasm. A white ring wraps around the base of his cock, the copious amounts of seed he’s poured into you threatening to leak out. 

Yuuta doesn’t bother pulling out. In a quick show of dexterity and freak strength, he manages to flip the both of you so that your positions are switched, with you lying on top of Yuuta’s chest. The steady beat of his heart fills your mind. 

Your entire body is on fire. You feel numb. You let yourself be carried away by the prospect of sleep, hoping that you’ll wake up to find that this was all just some wild fragment of your imagination.  

He presses a hand against your head, like he was afraid you’d pull away and ruin whatever fantasy he’s deluded himself into believing. 

The simple truth is– Yuuta Okkotsu loves you. And he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that no one else gets in the way of that. 

He runs his hand up and down your bare back lovingly, admiring your spent form. You’ve always been so soft. So pliant, so willing to give in to his desires. 

It’s the thing that Yuuta loves most about you. 

a/n: i had to reupload bc this hellsite sucks. hopefully this shows up in the tags now

tagging @princess-okkotsu again hehe

[mysterystarz]

kiss me maybe:

summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)

genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours

warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread

a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented

It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical. 

Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling. 

To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish. 

Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories. 

And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.

Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography. 

Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!) 

“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression. 

Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury. 

“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”

“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.” 

You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment. 

Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction. 

For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works. 

“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place. 

“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”

“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.” 

“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”

“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision. 

There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer. 

“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” ���Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you. 

“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle. 

He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm. 

“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.” 

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”

“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke. 

“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.” 

You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.” 

The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze. 

However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.

Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down. 

Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat. 

The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place. 

“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.” 

“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?” 

“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door. 

The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?” 

“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.” 

The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation. 

“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually. 

“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” 

With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name. 

Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing. 

A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.

Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice. 

“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits. 

Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door. 

“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.  

“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you. 

The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills. 

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big. 

“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere. 

“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad. 

“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.” 

“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed. 

“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.” 

“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.” 

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”

“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”

You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you. 

You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in. 

“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!” 

You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too. 

The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks. 

When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime. 

“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?” 

“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?” 

“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.” 

For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake. 

Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash. 

In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on. 

“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.” 

“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.” 

Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable. 

A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside. 

Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake. 

This sucked ass. 

You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along. 

Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering,  you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when. 

The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake. 

You could almost call it picturesque. 

You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed. 

The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you. 

They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk. 

“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte. 

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did.  “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.” 

“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.” 

“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.” 

Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again. 

His presence had a way of putting you at ease. 

The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.

The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you. 

High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much. 

You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings. 

What could be more human than that? 

Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent. 

“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.” 

What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?

“What did they do to you?”

“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations. 

Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better. 

You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space. 

Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness. 

When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours. 

Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out. 

A grand gym and an even grander boy. 

You just avoided him after that.

“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit. 

To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.

“Yeah, water under the bridge.” 

“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”

“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.” 

“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation. 

“Well-“

“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”

“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.” 

His eyes lit up. “You mean it?” 

You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you. 

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards. 

“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.” 

You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping. 

“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”

Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion. 

Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?” 

“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”

“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.” 

“We always love the extra coverage.” 

“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”

“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was. 

“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.” 

“Not true.” He huffed. 

“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.” 

People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager. 

Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with. 

“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.” 

Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.” 

He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?” 

Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.” 

“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”

“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.” 

As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.

Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.

You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too. 

As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean. 

Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends. 

You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky. 

How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset. 

“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings. 

And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition. 

“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it. 

“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.” 

“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit. 

“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?” 

“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.” 

“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open. 

You weren’t sure what to say. 

A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.

“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret. 

“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper. 

Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.

For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine. 

You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.  

Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity. 

Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru. 

Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face. 

“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.” 

You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression. 

“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.” 

Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees. 

You sat down, gesturing for him to join you. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.” 

“It’s been here…?” 

Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.” 

You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?” 

“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.” 

“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.” 

“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.” 

“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.” 

“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.” 

“Iwaizumi says otherwise.” 

“Mean. But seriously, why?” 

You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless. 

“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him. 

Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin. 

“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.” 

“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over. 

“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.” 

You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually. 

“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to. 

“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.” 

“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.” 

With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face. 

The way he looked at you now was like worship. 

“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think. 

“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?” 

Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours. 

Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips. 

Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt. 

You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you. 

The way he held you was reverent. 

When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much. 

You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.

Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots. 

Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up. 

He didn’t kiss and tell after all. 

“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.” 

“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could. 

“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.” 

“Am I not allowed to have good days?” 

“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?” 

“With my sets, yes.” 

“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.” 

Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking. 

Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight. 

It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him. 

Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could. 

The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through. 

The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride. 

“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning. 

“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?” 

You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.” 

Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life. 

The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).

The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.

The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness. 

The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness. 

“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!” 

“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.” 

Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you. 

Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through. 

You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.” 

Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?” 

Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.” 

”That is a great idea,” you chimed in. 

“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully). 

”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.” 

The team went silent. “You have a what?!”

The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously. 

“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.” 

You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”

You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together. 

“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.” 

“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.” 

“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.” 

Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?” 

You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her. 

Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty. 

She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?” 

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur. 

“When?” 

“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you. 

“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly. 

“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.” 

“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing. 

“Shush.” 

The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house. 

She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.” 

You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did. 

“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.” 

“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold. 

“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.” 

“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?” 

“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.” 

He was planning on not headlining the booth?

Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest. 

Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like. 

“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out. 

“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.” 

Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.

When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing. 

That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag. 

“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever). 

You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth. 

“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.” 

“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside. 

“Wow. How did you know about the name?” 

“I have my sources,” you winked. 

Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.” 

“So you do know.” 

“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.” 

You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you. 

“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.” 

“We don’t have to right now.” 

“Thanks Tooru.” 

“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.” 

You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?” 

Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I��m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.” 

You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes. 

“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance. 

“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” 

You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.” 

“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“ 

“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.” 

You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle. 

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.” 

You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.” 

Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty. 

Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.

When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively. 

He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response. 

”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.” 

Correction: something was horrifically wrong. 

“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.  

“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.” 

Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to. 

However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment. 

“Were you guys dating?”

“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”

“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?” 

You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet. 

“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.” 

At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.” 

“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.” 

The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant. 

Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus. 

You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled. 

Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame. 

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been. 

“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.” 

“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?” 

“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.” 

“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?” 

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.” 

You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.” 

“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”

“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room. 

“Je suis fâché.” 

“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.” 

“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?” 

“Je ne veux pas continuer.” 

“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again. 

He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now. 

“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move. 

He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air. 

Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth. 

“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?” 

Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.” 

“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.” 

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.” 

He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?” 

Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you. 

He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you. 

When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours. 

Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this. 

“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”

You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid. 

Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall. 

Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point. 

Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him). 

“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.” 

“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up. 

“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.” 

“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react. 

You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it. 

“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.” 

You nodded.

“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance.  I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.” 

“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?” 

You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad. 

“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?” 

Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling. 

“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.” 

You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile. 

You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?” 

“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today. 

Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign. 

The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually. 

He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths. 

“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop. 

“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!” 

Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!” 

He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands. 

He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations. 

The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.

To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit). 

“This is pretty amazing, huh?” 

Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.” 

“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?” 

Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound 

that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.” 

Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?” 

Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.” 

The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?” 

“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure. 

“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”

“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.” 

Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool. 

Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week. 

Maybe today would be okay after all.

You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you. 

Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself. 

Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.  

Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa? 

You weren’t sure. 

The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass. 

Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit. 

“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.” 

“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”

Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money. 

He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”

You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.” 

Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.” 

You snickered. “Not a chance.” 

Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.

“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.” 

“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row. 

The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later. 

Soon enough, you were at the front of the line. 

“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?” 

“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.” 

You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”

Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in. 

For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands. 

The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene. 

You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today. 

You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range. 

This was intriguing. 

“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding. 

“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!” 

“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.” 

In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye. 

“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.

“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.” 

“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand. 

“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable. 

Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line. 

“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line. 

“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered. 

“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?” 

“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.” 

The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra. 

“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.” 

“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand. 

“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple. 

“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress. 

“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said. 

“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.” 

Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. 

He really had meant everything. You needed to see him. 

When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss. 

You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you. 

You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them. 

You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was. 

Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands. 

“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 

This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession. 

It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections. 

“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe. 

“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

[zynwarrior]

How I lost 13 kgs/ 28lbs in 1 month!! (73-60kg/160-132lbs)

First of all I’d like to say that this will vary from person to person but it was a lot easier to lose weight at a higher SW.

My daily routine:

I would wake up at 6am and get ready for school and leave at 7am. I’d weigh in every 2-3 days and log it on this app which is the cutest ever for tracking WL.

I’d fast for about 18- 20 hours (starting at midnight). Which would be a lot easier to do at school as I’m not at home so close to my kitchen LOL.

Throughout the day I’d sip on water or black coffee. I highly recommend getting a big water bottle no matter how ridiculous it looks as I found it easier to curb cravings with a whole bunch of water nearby to fill my stomach up.

Chewing gum daily helps to reduce cravings and keep your mouth occupied. It also makes food taste weird once you’re done with it so that prevented me from eating.

As soon as I got home (around 3pm) I’d make myself a cup of coffee and smoke a cigarette (you don’t have to smoke obvi, I’m not promoting in any way) but the coffee would help me stay awake and give me a little energy.

From there id either take a nap or keep myself busy with homework/ projects. If I didn’t have anything to do I’d crochet or practice my Korean or Arabic. Picking up new, easy hobbies helps to keep busy.

I went to the gym at around 6pm where I’d do cardio for 5 days out of the week and rest days on weekends (walking on the treadmill at speed 4.1 at a 5 incline)

At around 8pm I’d have a small meal, usually steamed/ air fried vegetables and some sort of protein. One of my favorite meals was air fried sweet potatoes and an air fried chicken breast where I’d add a bit of salt and pepper.

I’d then shower, organise my school stuff and go to bed at around 10.

To distract myself during times when I was too tired to do work or didn’t want to sleep I’d just be doomscrolling on edblr/ edtwt to mass consume ED media to motivate/ keep me on track to distract myself from binging. After I’d take a nap and I would wake up and not be very hungry and if I was I’d chug a shit-ton of water.

Please note that smoking or vaping does not curb hunger cravings and is a bit of an unnecessary addiction. I smoke just to keep myself occupied for a while and distract myself from food but I 100% don’t recommend starting or using it as I do IF YOU DONT ALREADY DO IT.

That’s all I can think of for now but please feel free to leave requests for any inspo or posts you’d like to see from me!!

[inzuinzudesu]

Please zoom in to see small Kakashi! 😭 He kinda disappeared 😭😭😭

Text translation: "Infinite Tsukuyomi" (無限月読)

Drew these in mid-July - when I started doing digital again actually 🤔

Took inspo from the Balut - a street food in my country; I hear a lot of people are grossed out by it?? Don't know if this is controversial, but I personally love the dish. Essentially grew up with it after all!

Wanted to draw something that feels a bit creepy but still has a sense of mysticality to it???

Meh, don't know if the feeling got across or not

I thought since Halloween is coming up, might as well post this haha

About the process of drawing these!

These were very fun to draw! I messed around a lot with photoshop to achieve this glowy dusty effect?? From the brushes to the blending options, and maaan the filter gallery 😭😭 Such fun tools to play with.

The main brush I used to achieve the dusty effect is called "KYLE Bonus Chunky Charcoal", in the Kyle Dry Media brush set. If you can, I recommend checking it out! There are definitely other ways to achieve this sort of effect, though. You can probably just use some sort of scatter texture brush and it'd work just fine. Studying is all about trying things out, right? This is like my first experiment with this type of effect, and I was happy at the time. Now looking back, these could most definitely turn out better, no? I really went overboard with just the effect and forgot everything else. The blood and the plate looks horrible man. If you look closely, you can see the sketch lines haha! I got lazy!

Also, for Obito's pose, I relied heavily on a reference I found on pinterest 😭 I wish I'd changed the pose more tbh, it looks really boring.

And I gotta say, these just look underwhelming in this smaller size. Like reaaaaaally underwhelming. Would love to show you the big version, but oh well! 😭😭😭

Brain vomit time!

I love the prospect (??? is that the right word) of Obito being all god-like and powerful after Tsukuyomi, having control over everybody's dream worlds?? And like he jumps from dream to dream, but stops at Kakashi's and picks it apart???? Observing and tormenting Kakashi with his childhood form that has both sharingan???????

Kakashi would probably be confused with Obito's appearance at first, asking questions like "What are you up to this time, Obito?", but then wouldn't receive any answers??? Like little man would just stare at him creepily, and Kakashi would push this to the back of his mind for a while???

Umm below is the technical stuff, I guess??

My headcanon is that the time span in the dream world is the same as the real world. Meaning, 30 years in the dream world feel incredibly real, with no gap of memories. It's essentially a different timeline. Whether this makes sense or not, who knows haha!

Let's talk about the dream events and how they affect Kakashi! Due to Sakumo and team Minato still living, this Kakashi probably wouldn't be as lax nor sad as in canon?? The relationships and personalities would be different huh???? I'm having a headache thinking about this, so let's just say that: 1. Sakumo lived because the villagers weren't as harsh, but the animosity still remained. Kakashi still developed this obsession with rules, but he doesn't blame his dad as much. 2. Kannabi happened, Kakashi was given the sharingan, along with Obito's ninja way. Team Minato thought that Obito died for a while, but Obito is 'rescued' by Madara, same as canon. 3. Rin would still be targeted by Madara, but Obito came in time to help with the situation, blocking Kakashi's chidori from connecting with Rin's chest, but also knocking Kakashi away. Then, a Mist enemy took advantage of the situation to attack Kakashi, injuring him gravely, to the point where everybody thought he died. With this, Obito activated his Mangekyou and exploded on the Mist enemies, killing them all. Meanwhile, Rin tried to heal Kakashi, just barely saving him. As Obito had dealt with the enemies, there was no need to rush back to the village, and the Sanbi wouldn't be released till then. And so, they waited for Minato to come and help with Rin's seal. (About Obito's Mangekyou activating with Kakashi's death - would that be too far-fetched? My reasoning is that Obito would think that it was his fault Kakashi died, because it was Obito who knocked Kakashi away into the enemy, no?) 4. Because there's no one to become 'Madara' now that Obito came back to the village, Naruto is born, Minato and Kushina live.

5. The Uchiha massacre doesn't happen.

(Everything is incredibly convenient, because I don't have the brain power to make it otherwise, please help 😭😭) -> In conclusion, this Kakashi resembles the Kakashi of the real world, but less depressed and self-destructive??? He loves his living comrades. My man still has a massive obsession (more like crush lol) with Obito by the way, just like in canon. He just doesn't show it.

-> About Obito of the dream world (I'mma call him Dreambito), he is all sunshine and brightness, but he exhibits some dark thoughts and deep rage from time to time due to the residual effects of Madara's seal on his heart. The seal has been removed though. And he has this obsession with Kakashi's safety, as he almost pushed him to his death once, albeit accidentally.

-> I was debating whether to just start this dream world at the point where Obito got crushed, or to start it at the beginning of Kakashi's life. In the end, I went with the latter, cuz ya know, I like the idea of Kakashi living through a whole life all over again, just to finally come to the realization that it's all a dream. Does that make any sense at all??

Obito (child form - 13) first appears in front of Kakashi at the start of the Naruto series, when Kakashi has officially become the teacher of team 7. (Let's not change this okay, my brain would fry haha I'm not gonna deny that the idea of Obito and Kakashi becoming co-teachers of team 7 isn't incredibly fun though)

After the first encounter with this child Obito, Kakashi begins to have flashes of memories from the real world, and he hallucinates about people's deaths - mostly about the members of team Minato. This young Obito is always in the corner of his vision, most of the time silent, sometimes saying things like "You trash" to Kakashi whenever he encounters Rin, who is whole and grown up in this world.

Kakashi exhibits more destructive behaviors as this goes on, the line between the dream events and the real events slowly blurring. He takes more dangerous solo missions out of the village, and shows strong signs of PTSD, just like in canon.

The two Obitos would contrast each other?? Like Dreambito would be all concerned with Kakashi's decline in health (both mental and physical) and goes to confront and comfort him, many times over because that's how it is with them??? Dreambito might even move in with Kakashi, being the obsessive and protective Uchiha that he is. Meanwhile young Obito would be an absolute asshole, saying all these horrible things to poison Kakashi's mind haha

At this point, Dreambito'd be in the last stage on the journey of becoming Hokage, gaining the all the trust from the Uchiha clan, the village elders and the villagers as a whole. I don't know about Rin, though? Should she be romantically involved with Dreambito or no? Would Kakashi dream that??

I think Kakashi's dream would somewhat focus more on Dreambito being happy and satisfied, to be honest. I know there's Sakumo and team Minato as a whole, but as a degenerate shipper, I love the obsession between them🥺

I don't think Obito would directly interfere with what Kakashi is dreaming about, i.e. changing Dreambito's behavior, or like the political situation of the villages (?). But he would most definitely insert himself in Kakashi's psyche, no? Mess it up real good.

Kakashi would slowly realize that he is living a dream world, after all the flashes of memories that Obito generates in his mind. He would most definitely deny it at first though, I think? And then it would reach a point where Kakashi remembers everything from the real world, but he has also lived through 30 something years of the dream world, meaning he'd be in his 60s?? Does that make sense or no?

And so, while Kakashi now knows that everything is a dream, his feelings for everybody in the dream are real. If that's the case, is it really that important anymore that he escapes the Tsukuyomi? Can this dream world really be called fake at this point? Is there even anything in the real world for him to return to?

What's to say 'the real world' isn't a dream at this point?

-> Kakashi would completely close in on himself after this. He still does things that he would normally do, but it'd be all an act. He would feel completely isolated.

-> Dreambito would notice and confront him again, now that they live in the same house??? Kakashi would like say everything is fine and try to act more convincingly, but Dreambito would still know something's wrong????

-> Obito is observing from afar, who knows what his motivation is at this point.

Because this is Kakashi's dream world, I suppose he would have the power to change this world to his will, now that he's aware? This is like a lucid dream situation???

The people in the dream have their own will up until this point, but Kakashi can somewhat change their behavior if he really wants to, whether it's subconsciously or not??? Example: He can probably will Dreambito to kiss him or something lol

So on and so forth!

Man, I'm having waaay too much fun imagining the pain. There are probably like a thousand things that doesn't make sense haha! I do wonder how this sort of storyline should end though, does anybody have any ideas? Personally, I prefer slow burn with a (sort of) happy ending, but ya know, angst all the way is good too! I can't write, but I love thinking about all the things that could happen 😭😭 English isn't my first language, so this might have felt weird to read at some point haha

If anybody wants to develop this, please feel free to do so! And if you've read this far, thank you for reading this absolute brain vomit of mine! I love to yap, as you can tell haha Have a good day!

[txt-trash]

friendly desires | choi soobin

summary: soobin is just a friend, he’s someone you talk to on occasion who you’ve struck a deal with one drunken night. if he helps you get with beomgyu, you’ll help him get with a girl he thinks he likes. what he didn’t expect was to fall for you instead when your attention drifted away from him.

➣ college au, smüt, fluff, friends to lovers

➣ friend!soobin x f!reader [she/her]

➣ 8.8k words

warnings: college, minors dni, fluff, smüt [oral {fïngering, handjob}. foreplay. breästplay. use of protection. doggy style. makeout. . honestly fluff at the end. soobin is kinda a himbo. jealous soobin. soobin is giving off switch energy. Soobin is a flirty/confident drunk.

song inspo: infrunami — steve lacy [you were right in front of me. girl, you’re the one I want]

Soobin couldn’t help but let his eyes haze over with a sort of calmness as he listened to you speak. He was drunk and tired but you were saying something that made him want to pay attention. He just looked so focused on what you were saying even with that lazy look in his eyes.

“Are you even listening?”

“Yeah,” he said as he took another sip of his beer trying to remember everything you had just told him, “You said something about having a crush on Beomgyu.”

“Oh my god don’t say that so loud,” you clung to his arm making him smirk wide enough to show one of those dimples of his as he looked around the packed apartment filled with drunk bodies.

“There’s nobody listening,” he said looking back at you. It’s true, the two of you were tucked away on a couch that had been pushed to a corner in the living room where a college party was currently being held. You released a sigh, “So? Somebody could be listening.”

“And yet they aren’t,” he whispered, still dazed from the alcohol as he leaned just a little closer to you. Finally, he got back to the topic, “And alright, you want me to help you get at Beomgyu? Fine, but I want something in return.”

Your brows furrowed, “I don’t need your help to that extent. I just want you to tell me some stuff about him.”

Soobin chuckled, “That’s lame, Y/n. What are you gonna do with that?”

You sighed looking straight forward in thought. You turned back to face him and said, “Fine. Maybe just set us up or something… but before I agree to anything I wanna know what you want first.”

“Easy, just get your friend Yuna to go on a date with me,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

You stared at him? “Yuna? You like Yuna?”

Soobin just shrugged, staring off into the distance, “I mean she’s cute.”

“I didn’t realize that was your type,” and you were being honest but not in a hostile way. Soobin was incredibly attractive but he’s not exactly your type. Or you don’t think he is anyway, you’ve never really thought about him at all like that.

“Eh, I’m trying something new,” Soobin said, slumping back on the couch, manspreading just slightly, holding his beer in hand between his legs. He looked at you waiting to see what you would say.

“She’s nice,” you said underwhelmingly so. Soobin smacked his lips in annoyance, “Too nice.”

You scoffed, “You’re such a masochist, you know?”

“Sue me, I like someone that takes the lead once in a while,” he said with a smirk that made you want to slap it right off his face.

“Um… no offense but you’re not Yuna’s type,” you chose to say instead of argue with him over the fact that he’s acting different than his usual shy self.

“What are you talking about, just look at me,” he said, making you sigh and roll your eyes as you slumped back, matching his relaxed position.

“Yes Bin you’re an attractive guy but she’s got a certain type, a complete book warm and she hates gym guys,” you said hearing him let out the loudest most dramatic sigh ever. Soobin looked down at his biceps, lifting his arm and flexing, “I’m not that big though.”

You looked at him like he had three heads. He smiled that lazy smile again as he shrugged, “Either way I’m not helping until you help me out too.”

You groaned in annoyance as you crossed your arms over your chest, “I’m not that desperate.”

He chuckled, “Sure.”

“I’m serious,” you argued with narrowed eyes as to why he was laughing.

“Yeah alright.”

With another roll of your eyes you huffed, “So what’s Beomgyu’s type?”

He released a stretched out sigh letting his eyes drift off somewhere else, “Don’t know.”

You glared at him but he pretended like he didn’t see it. He even had the nerve to yawn like he was just so bored talking to you that he was getting sleepy. You even sat forward to force him to look at you but he only side eyed you as you said, “Soobin.”

“Y/n.” He looked amused now knowing that any second you’ll go along with him. To him it’s an even trade; he gets you with Beomgyu, you get him with Yuna. Of course he won’t tell you that Beomgyu has already approached him about you, telling him you’re pretty.

“You’re really not gonna help me?” You asked now

but it’s rare for him to be making you the one nervous so how could he just give in?

“I would but I just don’t see me gaining anything from it,” he said with a shrug.

“Fine!” You gave in, bouncing in place just once as if to further prove your point, “I’ll help you go out with Yuna.”

“Perfect. Alright so Beomgyu doesn’t really have a type. Just someone pretty with a sense of humor,” he said, looking you up and down.

“That’s me,” you smiled hopefully while pointing at yourself with your thumb.

“Um sure,” he said just to annoy you because he likes when you get mad at him, especially right now that he’s drunk.

“Screw you,” you lightly hit his leg but he just smiled wanting to push you even further. “Don’t you wish.”

“Soobin, how drunk are you? 1-10?” You asked suddenly that he reacted on impulse and gave you the answer.

“8.5?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you said with a little scoff.

His brows furrowed, “Why?”

“Because where’s my shy bunny friend?” You asked jokingly.

“I’m not shy with you anymore…” he said and he noticed now that the head buzz was slowly leaving and he could focus more, “You just scare me but not in a bad way.”

“How—“ “Y/n! Are you ready?”

“You’re leaving?” You asked looking up at Taehyun, your dear friend who drove you to this party tonight. He nodded, “Yeah, I’ve got class early tomorrow.”

“Ugh, fine let’s go.” You said with a sigh as you began to stand up.

“Wait Y/n…” Soobin shook his head and you could make out the redness in his cheeks from drinking as he held your wrist to keep you in place, “We’re not done talking. I don’t want to be aloneeeee.”

“Text me.”

“Okay.”

To clear things up, you and Soobin are friends but you aren’t friends. You see each other occasionally and during that single class you share, you sit near each other and partner up when necessary. You’re more of a ‘we randomly ran into each other so we’re gonna talk like crazy for a couple weeks before we drift apart’ type of friends’ You’re occasional friends who happened to run into each other at the party last weekend and just so happened to spend a lot of that time drunk and scheming.

“So I told her, I said, ‘Ma’am… we don’t have that shirt in that size and if we did it would be out on display’ and then she was like ‘Well let me speak to the manager because I don’t believe you’ and I turned around and said, ‘I am a manager’ then she threw the shirt at me and stormed out!” Kai was going on a tangent. He just got off work and he’s been talking your ear off over the awful shift he had. You and Yuna just listened to him rant and get it out of your system.

You were meeting tonight with your coworkers slash friends, Yuna and Kai. You worked at a streetwear shop that sold mostly graphic tees and things like cargo pants but it was a fun place to be at. It was a big store so the three of you were all managers, unfortunately that meant you very rarely get to work the same shifts together but you’ve gotten close lately.

Soobin found out you worked with Yuna because of the time he stopped into the shop. He had recognized her right away from one of his lectures but when he saw the two of you laugh together it didn’t take him long to tell you two were friends. He didn’t know that you were currently having dinner with her and Kai until he called you.

“Hello?” You answered as you slapped Kai’s hand away from your slice of pizza that he was trying to take since it was the last piece.

“Ow!” Kai yelled louder than he needed to and laughed as he lunged for Yuna’s plate only for them two to begin a slapping war. You rolled your eyes as you waited for Soobin to speak, “What?”

“What are you doing right now?” He asked as he sat in his bedroom waiting for you to get back. He was voted and the other night you two were talking so he wanted to know if you had any plans. He just wanted to hang out with someone and for some reason it just so happened to you.

“I’m having pizza with Yuna and Kai” You said, rolling your eyes at your two friends who were still fighting. Yuna was trying hard to get Kai to let go of her pizza slice while Kai tried shoving it in his face only to annoy her now. It wasn’t even about the pizza anymore.

“Yuna?” Soobin sat up immediately, “Where? I’ll meet you guys there. Shit, I’ll even invite Beomgyu.”

“Are you crazy? It’s too soon,” you said louder than you expected and the two you were with stopped fighting to stare.

“Who are you talking to?” Yuna asked as she finally shoved Kai back and took a big bite of her slice.

“Soobin, he asked if you guys wanted to hang out,” You said with a sigh as you heard Soobin cheer from the other end of the phone.

“Let’s go to the Arcade!” Kai shouted loud enough for Soobin to hear and he immediately agreed, “Taehyun’s gonna be so jealous he ditched us to go clubbing.”

“I highly doubt that,” you said as you hung up the phone once the plans were made.

The three of you left for the arcade and three guys met up with you there after some time. You looked between Soobin and Beomgyu and Yeonjun. You were familiar with all of them just seeing them around campus and such but you didn’t talk to the others as frequently as you talked to Soobin. Yeonjun was a fashion major and the department office was next to the Art office so you’ve seen him in passing before. He’s asked for help making posters for whatever fashion show they’re doing at the moment and you’re usually the one to help.

He gave you the typical bro handshake like you were one of the guys, “I didn’t know you were friends with Soobin.”

“Friends in the loosest term,” you joked, making Soobin gasp dramatically.

“Now that’s cold, we’re friends Y/n,” he said with an annoyed scoff as he narrowed his eyes at you, “How do you know each other?”

“Just saw each other around before,” Yeonjun said with a shrug. Soobin looked skeptical as he stared between you two and finally turned to Beomgyu, “Gyu this is Y/n and her friends.”

All of you awkwardly introduced yourselves and moved along.

“Y/n get your ass over here and play air hockey with me!” Kai shouted as he dragged you by the back of your shirt. Soobin took you by the arm basically making a tug-of-war, “Oh actually, Y/n said she’s never won a game of Zombie Apocalypse and you know who has? Beomgyu.”

“Huh?” You said before Soobin’s face scrunched up practically telling you to go along with him, “Oh yeah, I always get ate the fuck up.”

“Well now it's my mission to teach you how to survive,” Beomgyu said dramatically.

“Yuna, let’s play air hockey then, it’s four players, you guys in?” Kai asked Soobin and Yeonjun after you and Beomgyu left.

“I didn’t realize you’re the Y/n Soobin always talks about,” Beomgyu said when the two of you got into the gaming booth where you sit inside with play guns and a large screen showing the game. Your brows furrowed.

“Soobin talks about me?” You asked as you swiped your playing card and held the gun, “Oh my god, he talks shit about me, doesn’t he?”

Beomgyu laughed as the game began and zombies started coming forward slowly, “No, he doesn’t. He just brings you up every now and then so I always wondered about you.”

He was being honest, Soobin did talk about you sometimes so he got curious. He’s also seen you around campus before and he thinks you’re pretty he’s just never thought more on it since he didn’t have a reason to. When Soobin invited him out tonight he blindly agreed not expecting you to be here since his friend never elaborated. Imagine his surprise when he sees you greet Soobin and then it turns into a big group outing. Soobin must’ve read his mind or something because he was very quick to throw you two at each other—not that he minds, not at all.

Soobin was ecstatic and honestly you should be too. Despite his shy nature at first, Soobin definitely knows his way around girls, it just takes him a while to get comfortable. When he first found out you were hanging out with Yuna he immediately got excited and he pushed you toward Beomgyu the second you got here. He works fast and that’s why he’s ecstatic but he’s also deeply regretting his decision.

He should’ve made sure you were close to offer him help when he needed it but you ran off with Beomgyu without a second thought and okay sure, that’s his fault but how could you? How could you just leave him to fend for himself and go have your fun, and from the looks of it you were just having the best of time running around with Beomgyu.

“What’s your deal?” Yeonjun asked after watching Soobin glare at you and Beomgyu as he handed you a bear he just won.

Yuna was across from him playing ping pong and he was too distracted to even notice. He looked at Yeonjun, “Huh?”

“Oh, um,” Soobin looked around, “Give me a second, I’ll be right back.”

You had been waiting for Beomgyu to come back with drinks for you two when Soobin came over to your side. His hand barely grazed your back but it was enough to have you screaming and about two seconds away from hitting.

“It’s just me!” Soobin yelled, letting his hand go down to your waist for support, “Soobin.”

His touch was soft but warm and it was hard for you to not notice the way he kept his hand there despite having your attention.

“Oh my god, well you don’t sneak up on someone like that!” You said holding a hand to your chest moving away from his hold. He rolled his eyes, “Whatever, it’s not my fault you get spooked easily.”

“Don’t test me,” you said and for some reason that brought a mischievous smile to his lips.

“Why? What would you do to me?” He asked, taking a step closer as you rolled your eyes deciding to ignore him.

“Anyways, what do you want?”

“Oh I need you back there. I can’t talk to Yuna, I’m too nervous,” he said, making you scoff.

He looked down at you, “I’m nervous.”

A deep sigh left your lips as you pinched your brow in a small sign of frustration, “You’ve been talking about this for weeks. You got it.”

“I know, but uh, here’s the thing,” Soobin scratched at the top of his hair shyly, “Um… you know the idea of uh, the idea of… having a crush on someone is just uh, it’s just a lot more fun than actually going and doing something about it. Y'know?”

You gave him a blank stare, “No, I don’t know, you’re the one who asked to meet up since you found out I was with Yuna.”

He picked up on a hint of annoyance in your voice. He cleared his throat looking to the group he left behind where Yuna was now just talking with Kai and Yeonjun. He licked his dry lips, “I just mean, I thought I liked her but now the thought of actually asking her out just doesn’t seem all that great.”

You gave a single nod as if trying to understand him and he looked down at you hopefully. He towers over you but you’ve got this mean mug that gets him every time and he would be lying if he said you didn’t intimidate him at times. Like right now.

“So what you’re saying right now is that you’ve spent the last two weeks talking my ear off about the girl you like only for you to not do anything about it?” You asked, looking a little more annoyed than before. Soobin’s blank puppy face wasn’t doing anything to help his case no matter how cute he looked and with parted lips in surprise he nodded his head in response.

Another deep sigh left your lips as you turned away, “What happened to that confident guy at the party?”

“Well, I was feeling a lot more confident talking to you,” Soobin said pointing an accusatory finger at you, “But you just had to bail on my and go find Beomgyu.”

“Um excuse me, you’re the one who pushed me to Beomgyu,” You told him, “You were so eager to get things moving and now you regret it?”

“Yeah bu—“

“Hey Bin,” Beomgyu said as he handed you a drink and offered a third to him, “I saw you here so I brought you a drink. What are you guys talking about?”

“About how Y/n is the meanest person in the world,” Soobin said with an angry pout.

“I think you’re nice,” Beomgyu said with a shrug.

“Don’t compliment Y/n!” Soobin yelled and you nudged him from the back because what was he thinking? Isn’t the whole point of this that Beomgyu falls for you and Yuna falls for him?

“Only I can,” he muttered under his breath, “Kidding.”

Beomgyu just looked at him suspiciously as he made an excuse to go back to Yuna.

“What’s got you in a mood?” Taehyun asked looking at Soobin who had this obvious pout on his face, “Y/n.”

“Ah, so you’re jealous,” Taehyun said, as he stood behind the register of the store you worked at. Soobin had stopped by to see if Yuna was around but he ended up looking for you instead.

“A little.” Soobin said without a thought. He shook his head, “Wait no, not like that. I meant like, I’m jealous of Y/n, not jealous because of her.”

“Why? Y/n sucks,” Taehyun said casually like they were discussing the weather.

“Because Y/n was talking to Beomgyu and she just made it look so easy,” Soobin said and he honestly doesn’t get it. It’s not usually so hard for him to get a girl, he doesn’t usually have to work for it. Yes, he’s quiet at first and can get overwhelmed but if he puts his mind on someone there’s no doubt he can get them.

Why is he struggling being around Yuna when he’s supposedly into her?

“Oh so you’re jealous of Beomgyu?” Taehyun asked.

“No! Listen, Y/n just…” Soobin started.

“I just what?” You asked so suddenly he screamed. Soobin turned around facing the entrance of the store where you and Yuna walked in from.

“You don’t work today,” Taehyung said with a scowl as he looked at you two, “Unless you plan on clocking in and letting me leave early.”

“No, not planning that at all,” you said before lifting your hands which were full of shopping bags, “We were shopping and decided to come say hi.”

You looked toward Soobin, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh uh, I just, I wanted to see if Yuna was here, I was gonna stop by and say hi,” Soobin said looking toward her. You just nodded leaving the two to it as you joined Taehyun to see if there was someone the two of you can talk shit about for a few minutes.

“The other night was fun,” Yuna said as she and Soobin stood off to the side somewhere in the store. He smiled, “Yeah.”

“Y/n and Beomgyu seemed to hit it off, right?” Yuna asked, trying to make conversation with him. Soobin just nodded looking over to where you and Taehyun talked.

“You think so?” Soobin asked with a clear of his throat as he looked back at her, “What’s Y/n’s type, anyway?”

Don’t ask him why he was curious because he doesn’t know. He just remembers when you asked him if Yuna was his type and he never asked you if Beomgyu was yours. If you asked him now if Yuna was his type he would once again say not really. She’s not his ideal type but he liked her because she was cute. He wanted to know if Beomgyu was your type or if you too were only into him because of his looks.

“Um, I don’t really know,” Yuna said with a shrug, “I’ve never really asked, why?”

“Just… you know, Y/n’s a lot to handle,” he said making her smile.

“Yeah, Y/n likes things done her way so she usually takes the lead. I guess I would say someone who’s okay following her around and being told what to do,” Yuna said only half joking.

Soobin was taken back, now he might be mistaken.

He might seriously be mistaken but that’s him, right? Practically!

He would follow Y/n around if she asked him to.

Wait, what?

“Why?”

“Huh?” Soobin asked, looking completely dumbfounded, “Oh um, just curious.”

“About?” You asked coming up behind him, making him scream just like he did early. You rolled your eyes, “Jeez, why are you so jumpy today?”

“Are you going to see Beomgyu again?” He blurred out making your brows scrunch in confusion.

Beomgyu was cute, he was really cute and you had fun with him the other night but how could Soobin expect you to know the answer right now? You haven’t even talked to Beomgyu since then and that was already a couple days ago. You can’t tell if he’s into you or not and despite following each other on social media neither one of you reached out to the other.

“I don’t know,” you told him honestly and he smacked his lips in annoyance as he rolled his eyes.

Yuna excused herself when Taehyun called for her and suddenly it was just you two and neither one of you made a move to leave. You nudged his arm softly, “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“No,” He said while doing it again and you scoffed.

You took a deep breath to prepare yourself to ask, “Are you mad at me?”

“I don’t know.”

“I thought it went good with Yuna but you’ve been acting weird now,” you said in a whisper as you took a step toward him, “Are you not into her anymore?”

“I don’t know!” His voice rose as he took another step closing the gap between you even more, “I mean… I don’t know. No?”

“No? What are you talking about? I thought the whole point was that you would go out with Yuna and I would try it out with Beomgyu,” you said and he just huffed.

“I don’t want you to try anything out with Gyu,” he rushed out without meaning to. He looked just as confused by what he said as you did. He took a deep breath, “I’ll see you in class?”

Your brows furrowed, “Wait what?”

He was already walking away as you called for him, “Soobin, you’re leaving already?”

He didn’t respond and you looked at the others very confused.

You don’t understand what just happened. Soobin seemed… he seemed jealous almost? He kept asking you about Beomgyu and the other night at the arcade too, he just interrupted you two and left Yuna behind as he thirdwheeled you instead. On top of that, you’re not sure how you feel about the fact that he might be jealou.

Were you overthinking it? What if that’s not how he meant to come off at all and you’re just overthinking it?

You also can’t seem to fathom the way your breath hitched when he had gotten closer to basically tell you he didn’t want you to get close to Beomgyu. You’ve never thought of him this way but even you can’t deny the fact that Soobin is hot. He’s making you feel things from the way he’s acting and you don’t know if you have a right to feel this way.

If he hadn’t stormed off maybe you would be able to understand better about why he’s not so sure about Yuna anymore. Did this mean she was out of the question? Did Yuna develop anything for him yet and if so what did that mean for your growing feelings?

You just need him to give you one little sign on how he’s feeling.

Soobin was young and confused, so what did a typical young and confused person do on a Friday night at some college party? Get drunk.

Yup, they get drunk and that’s exactly what Soobin is planning to do because for some reason he can’t get you out of his head. He doesn’t even know how this happened when just a couple weeks ago he only saw you as a friend. He thought he was into Yuna for fuck’s sake!

When did you become the center of his attention?

Well, Soobin knows when. It’s when he introduced you to his beloved friend Beomgyu. For some reason that bothered him a bit and he didn’t even realize it at first. Also, it was completely his fault! He shouldn’t have introduced you to each other but he honestly thought nothing of it. At first you were just a friend asking him for a favor and it became a trade.

The thing that really made him realize his mistake was the night of the arcade. He hung out with Yuna and the others yet the entire time he thought about you. He would look over and catch you laughing over something Beomgyu said and he just wanted to know what was so damn funny. He can make you laugh too.

A feeling began to set in his chest and when he went on social media and saw that the two of you were following each other now he only became more annoyed because what would you be talking about when he’s not around?

He wondered if the two of you were talking as much as he talked to you.

It wasn’t until the day at the store that he realized what was the problem. He didn’t want you to give attention to Beomgyu. He wanted it all for himself. He spent months being shy around you and not being able to get closer to you sooner that it annoyed the shit out of him because it was so easy for Beomgyu to get your attention!

It just got him thinking on this bus ride to the party tonight. He thought; Well, I just have to try harder to get Y/n back, right?

At the party he needed liquid courage to even face you but he would definitely go find you some time tonight. Yeonjun laughed at the way Soobin threw himself down on the random couch against the wall, “Hey stranger.”

“Hey,” Soobin said as he threw back his head and took another drink from his cup, “Have you seen Y/n?”

“Yeah, right there,” Yeonjun said waving at you as you made your way over with Kai next to you. Good, at least you weren’t talking to Beomgyu. Soobin loves his friend, but if anyone should be with you, it’s him, right? Beomgyu doesn’t even know anything about you! And okay, maybe Soobin doesn’t know much about each but at least he’s been to your place! Who cares if it was to study or do a project.

He did the unthinkable as you got closer. He reached out an arm to touch your waist and just like that he was pulling you onto his lap.

“Soobin,” you whined as you tried to get up but he didn’t let you.

“There’s nowhere else to sit, Y/n,” Soobin said in a deep voice that had you looking at him and his dark eyes. Confident Soobin was back.

His eyes didn’t tear away from your face as you looked around and he was right, there really was no room elsewhere.

“I’m heavy,” you complained, still trying to see if there was a way out of this before your mind started playing tricks on you again by making you think Soobin might like you.

“Where else do you plan on sitting then?” He asked with an amused smile as he looked around. He wasn’t worried for his friend Beomgyu who seemed content talking to the group he’s hanging with and Yuna was here too but off somewhere else. His little schoolboy crush on her was over the second he realized you might slip away from him. He’s not going to let you go.

You gave up on arguing with him over it and made yourself comfortable on his lap, feet barely touching the floor from the length of his legs that kept you up. Soobin’s arms were around your waist the entire time too as if making it clear you weren’t going anywhere. Maybe you both were a little too tipsy to focus on this sudden shift between you two but neither one of you was going to back down.

“Y/n! I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Kai said as he cut through the crowd of people to get to you, “Wanna play beer pong?”

“Right now?” You asked as you looked down at the hand that was on your waist wondering if Soobin would move it away but instead he fully wrapped it around your front securing you even more to his lap.

“Where’s Yuna?” Soobin asked and you felt your heart drop just a fraction at the thought that he would prefer her. He took you by surprise when he said, “I’m sure she’d join you, Kai.”

Kai looked down at the two of you with skeptical eyes, “What’s up with you guys?”

You opened your mouth to speak but Soobin beat you to it, “I want Y/n’s attention.”

Yeonjun audibly gagged as Kai scrunched up his face cringing. Even you looked slightly taken back as you turned to look at him but Soobin just gave you that lazy drunken smile of his. Yeonjun stood, “Alright I’m leaving.”

Kai joined him and when it was just you two on the couch you made a move to get off his lap but he didn’t let you. You knew Soobin was strong because the guy worked out twice a day but whew, when he actually shows you his strength it takes you by surprise. You laughed nervously as you placed your hands over his, “Let me sit.”

“Why? I’m not comfortable enough for you?” Soobin asked with a teasing smile as he felt you relax in his hold again. He couldn’t help himself as he said, “Would you prefer Gyu over me?”

You scoffed with a laugh, “Is that what this has been about? You’re jealous?”

“A little,” he said honestly, “Don’t want you paying attention to anyone but me.”

“Really? Shouldn’t you be saying that to Yuna?” You asked and he stopped to think about it.

He remembers when you came up to him asking about Beomgyu. At first he was surprised but he was a little too drunk to feel anything. He remembers telling you to get him with Yuna but now he wonders if it’s because he really did like the girl or because you showed interest in someone else.

“I want your attention, not hers,” he said and he was being honest, “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

“Do you prefer Gyu over me?” He asked, looking you in the eyes now as you laughed, shaking your head no.

“No, I don’t. You’re confusing me though,” you told him and he sighed.

“You’re really going to make me say it?” Soobin asked with a sigh as he ran a nervous hand through his hair, “I’m into you, Y/n.”

You nearly choked as you stared at him with wide eyes, “Since when?”

“I don’t know, a while? I just didn’t want to say it,” Soobin said, “And I’ll be honest with you. I always thought you were pretty hot but we were friends, y’know? You came to me about Beomgyu and I thought nothing of it and told you about Yuna, but I never… well I just thought she was cute. I think I only said that because you said something about Beomgyu.”

You took a deep breath as he continued, “But then I couldn’t stop thinking about you with him and I realized that I really hated the idea of you two because where would that leave me?”

He looked away from you a little embarrassed now that he’s realized the alcohol in his system was slowly slipping away along with his confidence. He couldn’t face you but he could tell your expression. Your lips were parted in surprise and your brows were furrowed in confusion, yet… you weren’t mad.

“Soobin,” you sighed, making him look down at his hands as one rested on your thigh, “I think, I think I feel the same.”

It was still a little confusing because not that long ago you considered him a distant friend. If this was happening now it’s still something foreign to you both but neither of you seemed completely against the idea of being something more.

He took you by surprise as he laughed, “Fuck.”

You looked at him as he ran his fingers through his blond hair once again, “I really want to kiss you right now, just to… um… I just want to try it.”

“So do it,” you found yourself saying and he looked at you with doe eyes trying to see if it’s what you really wanted. When you didn’t take back what you said he nodded. Without wasting another second your jaw warmed with his touch. He was pulling your face toward his and your lips touched suddenly.

He breathed out through his nose, sighing at the feel of your soft lips. His head tilted to one side as you shifted on his lap just slightly to kiss him better. He kept one hand on your waist but the other made its way to your hair keeping you in place as he pulled away to catch his breath.

You looked at each other through glossed over lustful gazes. A lazy smile appeared on his face before he smashed his lips against yours again. He dipped his head lower to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping against your lips and it took you by surprise. Usually you were the one telling Soobin what to do but he clearly had no problem initiating the kiss. You leaned forward, back arching a little as you planted the palm of your hand flat on his thigh feeling the muscle underneath.

A loud scream pierced through your ears and you nearly jumped out of Soobin’s hold accidentally nipping his bottom lip with your teeth. He hissed at the pain and was surprised by the fact that it made him blush when you did it. He looked up at you as you looked in the direction that the scream came from.

Taehyun stood there with Beomgyu and he looked completely shocked, “You! What—Did I just,” he rubbed his eyes as if he was waking up from a dream, “Did they just kiss?”

“I think the term is made out,” Beomgyu said, not looking bothered by this at all, “And on a stranger’s couch at that.”

“You know, I had a feeling something was going on,” he said to Taehyun, “The day of the arcade Soobin was talking about Y/n so much to me but then when we hung out he kept interrupting. I just knew something was up.”

That would explain why he never reached out to you after the arcade day. You awkwardly moved off Soobin’s lap as he relaxed into the couch and man spread his legs, “Yeah, I know. My bad.”

He didn’t even look apologetic because now he was too giddy about the fact that you kissed him, bit him too. He licked at the small cut on his lip now from when you bit him and smirked, “Sue me, I didn’t want you alone with Y/n after all.”

“I’m so confused,” you said suddenly as you looked at them all before landing your eyes on Taehyun, “And why’d you scream? You made me bite Soobin.”

“I kinda liked it,” Soobin mumbled in embarrassment as he blushed trying to hide his smile.

Taehyun and Beomgyu both gagged, “You two are sick. You ruined my drunk and now I have drunk even more to get it back.”

Soobin stood up with a huff, “Fine, we’ll leave, how about that?”

“We will?” You asked as you took his outstretched hand that helped you up. He nodded with a smile.

You’re not sure what happened in between leaving the party and finding yourself on Soobin’s bed but here you were, sitting across from each other. Music played quietly in the background and he had those typical LED lights on to a shade of dark purple.

“Do you regret it?” He asked you as he played with the end of your shorts as your legs splayed over his , “Or would you do it again?” He looked up at you with curious puppy eyes that he somehow made hot.

You knew he was talking about the kiss and his shy nature seemed to come back now that it was just you two but it didn’t conceal his lustful gaze. You didn’t say anything for a moment and finally inched closer to him. He didn’t need much of an answer when you pressed your lips to his once more and there was a hint of a smile into the kiss as he deepened it, dipping his head low. You straightened your back hoping to get closer to him, your hands going to his thighs for support.

You still sat across from each other but Soobin was reaching for your hips to pull you even closer in front of him.

“Wanna keep going?” You asked, letting your hand slip down from his neck to his chest. He nodded into the kiss letting you take the lead as your fingers ran over his pecs and abs. He doesn’t care who takes control as long as you don’t stop touching him. His hands slid down to your spine, slipping his fingers under your shirt just a little bit. Your legs were crossed with his as you sat facing each other to kiss and Soobin towered over you just a bit. Your tongue slipped into his mouth massaging against his making him breathe heavily through his nose so he wouldn’t have to pull away.

You released a small grunt as it became hard to breathe and leaned back to pull away. Soobin released a quiet groan as he followed your lips making your back arch into him. Finally you held him by the shoulders and pulled back with a laugh, “Jeez, didn’t know you wanted to kiss me that bad.”

He laughed lightly, “Neither did I.”

You watched the way he slumped back in the bed using his hands to hold himself up, legs stretched out around you. Soobin looked extremely… sexy. You moved onto your knees as you leaned over him to connect your lips again.

He kissed you back hungrily as one of your hands came up to touch his chest before descending down his and again. He sucked in his stomach unintentionally as you traveled your finger down it toward the hem of his jeans all the while still making out. He brought a hand up to cup your face as he felt your fingers tug at his buttoned up jeans. He let you unzip them and lower them as much as possible in his current position.

You’re not surprised to see that he’s hard, considering you haven’t been able to keep your hands off each other for some time now. You’ve also been drinking and kissing.

You struggled to tug his briefs down barely getting them under his member and having to dig your hand into them. You finally slipped your hand over his member, relishing in the size of him as your palm ran over his tip.

His mouth formed an 'O' shape against yours at the first feel of your fingertip running along his tip already feeling some slick m. Soobin let his head fall back as he focused on the feel of your hand.

"Fuck," he groaned feeling your hand stroke his member upwards, tightening a little more at the base, before softening along his head. Focusing on his top you circled your fingers around the part under the head before stroking it with your palm.

“Does it feel good?” you asked as you brought your other hand down under his cock, massaging his balls. He gave up on control for just one second and fell back on the bed only using his elbows to keep him up. His head was thrown back as he mumbled blissfully, “Feels good.”

A groan fell from his lips as you pulled your hands away from his aching length and he looked at you displeased with wet swollen lips.

You didn’t say anything as you sat back on your haunches and reached for the end of your shirt before pulling it off swiftly. Soobin was frozen for a second as he took in the size of your chest. Another groan caught in his throat when you got up just enough to pull down your shorts and kick them off. You looked at Soobin and without another second wasted he tugged off his own clothing until he was naked. You sat pretty between his legs admiring his abs and talk figure. His eyes down your body, mouth going dry and cock twitching when you lowered yourself down toward it.

His breath hitched as you wrapped a hand around his base and took him in your mouth. Your little handjob should’ve been enough teasing, you just wanted to get him off. It didn’t take long for Soobin to set a pace of thrusting into your mouth lightly, feeling the way your tongues licked up his length each time you would pull.

Your hand jerked off whatever didn’t fit in your mouth and when he touched the back of your throat it only made more saliva spill out.

“Y/n, I’m gonna cum, fuck,” Soobin moaned as his eyes squeeze shut, his abs flexed in intense pleasure as he tried holding off just a little longer but he couldn’t. Not anymore.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” string of curse words left his lips as he released down your throat suddenly and you just swallowed it up. He breathed heavily as you slowly made your way off so as to not overstimulate him but you could see that he never lost his erection despite cumming down your throat.

You got up to kiss him softly, “You did so good, baby boy, and still so hard.”

He groaned into your mouth, he tried very hard to let you lead that moment but now he’s ready for his turn. He swiftly pulled you down to the bed until you were laying down and he was sitting on your side. You looked at him with soft eyes and took off your bra without him even needing to ask.

Soobin thought you looked like a nice little plaything for him right now. His hand ran between your breasts sliding across your left and squeezing just enough to feel the weight of them. You took a deep breath as he ran a thumb over your nipple.

It felt good to have his big hand touching your tits but what had you withering was his other hand which made its way between your legs and under your panties.

“So pretty,” he mumbled through pouty lips as his eyes scanned your naked body, tugging down your underwear until you were fully undressed too. His middle finger ran along your folds making sure to spread your slick around and coating your clit with it. You watched as he brought his mouth down to the mound of your breast, a hand pinching a nipple and another touching your wet pussy.

“Soobin,” you gasped feeling his lips circle around the hardened bud of your breast and suck lightly all the while the hand on your cunt began to rub your clit at a faster pace. You were so close and you can see his hardened dick bobbing, begging for friction. Your lips drew apart as his middle finger began to push into your entrance, hips bucking trying to get him in deeper.

He looked up at you, tongue flicking your nipple as his other hand groped the flesh of your left breast. His hand toyed with your wetness using it as an aid for an easier push of his finger into your heat. The whimpering mess you left him earlier was gone and back was a confident Soobin who knew what he was doing.

He knew you were getting close from the way your walls tightened around his finger and it made him want to stretch you further. His tongue never stopped wrapping around your nipple and tugging at it with his teeth pushing moan after moan out of you. With the stimulation of his mouth on your tits and his finger pushing through your folds to join his middle finger, you felt very close.

Your hips began to shake and Soobin sped up his thrusts making sure to curl his fingertips and push against that soft spot that had you moaning out his name. Soon enough he felt your walls tighten just before the warmth of your release coated his fingers. Not once did he stop kissing your tits and you quite literally had to pull him up by his hair to get him off.

You focused your attention on evening out your breathing as Soobin got up for a second and rummaged through a drawer. When he came back to you he patted your thigh, “Turn around.”

You were a little surprised by his deep and intimidating demeanor but did as told anyway as you rolled onto your stomach watching as he tore into the condom wrapper and managed to slide it onto his hard cock himself. Still stroking his member he crawled back onto the bed before pulling your thighs up so that your ass was more in the air and you fixed yourself into the right position, face in a pillow.

Soobin bit into his bottom lip to suppress a loud moan as he pushed the tip into your entrance. You released a moan blissfully at the stretch of his cock pushing through a familiar ring of nerves. He’s been waiting for this and he knows he won’t last long at al. That was only more reason for him to get rough.

He might let you tell him what to do and give him attitude any other time, and he might’ve let you take the lead tonight but if he’s in your pussy then he’s the one in control. He has no problem following you around like a good puppy but if he’s balls deep in your cunt then he’s going to get a little too eager to be pliant.

You moaned into the pillow as he fucked you from behind. He dropped down over your back so that you were pressed into his chest and fucked you like a man in heat.

“Oh fuck, baby,” the pet name slipped out but you weren’t opposed to the term at all. Actually, it made you lean your head back to meet his and throw an arm around his neck to make him kiss you from behind.

“I’m so close, baby,” you said back and he nearly growled into your ear, “Fucking me so good.”

The praise got to him as he slammed his hips into yours swallowing your loud cries of pleasure with his tongue down your throat.

Just like that, your body trembled as he felt your release threatening to push him out. He pulled away from the kiss to drop his head down on your shoulder and came into the condom.

It took you both some time to calm down, Soobin peeled his sweaty body away from yours, lips gulping dryly as he stared up at the ceiling still coming down from his orgasm. His mouth was dry, his eyes stung and his blond hair stuck, his forehead drenched in sweat. He was living proof of a man who just had the fuck of his life. When he was actually able to swallow and breathe properly he moved off of you, hand on your thigh as he helped you onto your back.

The bed dipped as he fell onto it next to you and your eyes met. The sex fueled haze has disappeared and all that was left was two laughing friends as he took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

“Come here,” you mumbled, lifting an arm up and he crawled into the small space and hugged you from the front. His face rested on your bare chest as his tall figure huddled around you.

“I never knew you can get so rough,” you said with a small giggle that had him hiding his face in embarrassment.

“Did you like it?” He asked, throwing an arm around your side, “In bed, I mean. I would never be mean or rough on you anywhere else.”

You just smiled, “I liked it, you can be a little mean to me if you want to.”

He shook his head with furrowed brows as if the idea was so beyond his comprehension on why he would want to be mean to you.

Now he remembers when you asked him if ‘cute’ was his type and how he said he prefers them a little mean. He didn’t realize then but he was referring to you and despite your usual cold nature, you were surprisingly warm during sex and he liked both sides of you.

“You like me, right?” He asked suddenly, “I don’t have to worry about you leaving me for someone else, right?”

“Yes Bin, I like you and I wouldn’t leave you for someone else.”

“Not Beomgyu, right? I mean, he’s a total brat y’know,” Soobin began, “He would never do what you say.”

“And you would?” You asked him, making him nod his head.

“I always do what you say,” he admitted, trying to make sure you realized he’s totally fine with you telling him what to do as long as you praised him too.

He wanted you to know that despite getting a little rough during your fuck, he will still very willingly let you take the lead in the relationship. It was perfect for him, he could let loose and have sex with you while also just following everything you do and not think. He just wants someone who will tell him what to do.

“So then when should we go out?” You asked and he smiled shyly now. He kissed your collarbone, hand already rubbing at your sides as if the thought of actually going out for him aroused again.

“Tomorrow, early morning.”

“What do we tell the others when they ask about earlier?” You asked now and he rolled his eyes.

“That we’re seeing each other,” he said using that same voice he did when he was hitting it from behind, not the shy tone but the firm one that let you know that’s how it was gonna go.

His continuous switch from letting you decide and him being the one to make decisions was sending you in a spiral but you liked it too. He’s clearly a good match for you when you’re exactly the same.

Maybe he really was in front of you the whole time.

::.

join my taglist? inbox or comment

main blog: @kooktrash

omg I’ve been writing this for over a month 😭😭ik my first two fics seem pretty soft and fluffy but I’m hoping to write something darker soon. anyway hope you enjoy.

this Soobin:

[casualhedonists]

so scarlet, it was maroon (18+)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: nsfw (18+), praise kink, oral sex, fingering (fem receiving), overstimulation, secrecy (kinda), multiple orgasms, bruising, biting, pre-tbosas, academy!coryo, he's also more dominant in this! yay dom coryo, this is a little rough but super consensually so

main masterlist // coryo masterlist

a/n: what's the point in getting laid if you can't use it as smut writing inspo? serious question

Your body gets littered with bruises every time you wake up next to Coriolanus. It doesn't matter if he means to leave them; it just sort of happens.

He fingers you open right there in his room, you grip his wrist as he smiles against your mouth like he’s not doing anything lewd, like Tigris and his Grandma’am weren’t right downstairs, cooking dinner. Your other hand twisting into his hair and pulling hard. His hands are a lot bigger than yours, they can reach places you usually can’t. You figured that out fast; almost as fast as he did.

He fucks his fingers into you like he doesn’t care if people hear. It feels dangerous, like you’re teetering on the edge of a building, brushing the sky and about to tumble down. You’re almost embarrassed by how easily he’s reading you like a fucking book, fingers pressed between the pages, carving notes into the margins. Your own hand presses against your mouth because you know his won’t, and you’re holding onto your last shred of dignity as tightly as you’re grabbing his hair. You don’t know where you wish he would look; between your spread legs or at the look on your face as you come undone. You’re glad it’s the former as your face contorts and he fucks you harder, any more and you might shatter.

You whimper, broken moans muffled into his neck. You hear the smile in his voice as he speaks.

“Oh, you’re fun.”

You melt. Try to whisper something back, some half-assed attempt at a rebuttal that you forget as soon as it leaves your lips.

You stare up the ceiling, ears ringing, a thin cast of sweat covering you over. You barely notice how he moves between your legs, shoulders shifting to push your thighs apart even more. You moan just at the sight of it, both of your hands now in his hair like they were drawn by some magnetic pull. He doesn’t waste time, doesn’t let your high die down. You guide his head where you want it but he doesn’t really need the direction, so as he speeds up you use the pull on his locks to buck up towards his mouth. He doesn’t let this last; pins you down again until you’re squirming on his tongue.

When he slides his fingers back into your cunt you forget being quiet, a cry slips out that only makes him move faster, like he’s desperate to hear more, to know exactly what he’s doing to you. He stops every so often, teeth nipping at your inner thighs, making you jerk with the pressure.

He holds you down as you cum against his tongue, lips pulling into a smirk as his thumb presses into your clit making you jolt.

You hear Tigris call up that dinner is ready, and fuck, it’s like he timed it to leave you flushed and fucked out while you tried to get through dinner with his cousin and grandmother.

The next day when you shower, you notice a bruise blooming on your arm, and much to your surprise, a second on your thigh, dark and bite-shaped. You drag him into a bathroom stall between classes and lift your skirt.

“This is your fault.” You say pointedly. His eyes darken at the sight of it, tracing it with his thumb. your breath hitches.

“Not here.” you hiss. “Fuck, I'm still sore.”

“Can you come over tomorrow night?” he asks absentmindedly. You frown.

“Is that okay?”

“Grandma’am loved you. Tigris, too, obviously. They’re glad that I found a good Capitol girl to take home.”

His breath tickles your ear.

“Of course, they don’t know just how good you were.”

“Coryo…”

“See you then, beautiful.”

He leaves you in the stall, catching your breath, and you know one thing for sure.

You’re so fucked.

a/n: i went to get the milk. i'm sorta back now? hope you lovely people are thriving, and that you enjoyed. life is still hellishly busy but i'm gonna try and be more active i MISS U ALL

tags: @xjinnix @bvngsblog @upsidedownjill

(to be added to my coryo taglist you can drop a comment here)

[malfoys-demigod]

hey there! heard you were looking for some Logan fluff ideas. What about something where Logan’s significant other is pretty much his opposite. They are super happy, and like to laugh, they are really short compared to him, that sort of thing. And taking inspo from jenna marbles, what if the reader likes to sit there at like 1 or 2 in the morning watching tiktoks that make them laugh so hard they’re crying, and Logan will walk into the room and be confused until they show him some random, dumb tiktok. And he just kind of shakes his head but sits there with them while they continue to laugh at more tiktoks. I’m thinking Deadpool 3 Logan cause he’s the most serious out of any Logan. Thoughts?

Headcanons of Logan taking interest of his S/O’s tiktok fyp

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

A/N: Hi @welcometochilis585 !! Loved your thoughts and hoped you don't mind me using my own favorite tiktok trend right now which is the Daniel Larusso glazing Mr. Miyagi videos since it's been on my fyp and all I do is keep laughing every time I see it!

If you guys aren’t aware of the tiktok trend, I highly suggest you check it out on tiktok! It’s so funny and it’ll help make you understand the humor behind the fic! :)

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

First of all, you were an entirely different person to your boyfriend. 

He was such an old man that carried some of the following personalities: unenergetic, downbeat, and grave. 

It was reasonable for people to wonder how the two of you became an item, but hey! 

Opposites can attract! 

Especially when it comes to height. 

He was around 6’2, constantly towering your short built

That was one of the things he found cute about you

How a joyful and energetic person could run around for him to tower with his opposite energy and still be their same self. 

Another thing he secretly liked about you was your uncontrollable laughter, laughing about anything and almost everything. 

One time when Wade was throwing a party and invited everyone to come over, he once told you he was on a seafood diet. 

“I’m on a ‘see-food’ diet. I see food, and I eat it. It’s surprisingly effective!” 

You started giggling as if you’ve heard Wade’s best joke, even if it wasn’t. 

Logan just watched you giggle, trying to keep a straight face. 

But what he had a hard time finding funny for a while were the things you were watching on your phone, specifically on Tiktok. 

At first, they were just moments by the couch when you’d start laughing at your phone and Logan, sitting beside you, would look over to your view and see nothing but people making weird faces and actions. 

“BFFR” (Be fucking for real) was what came out of your mouth after watching some videos and Logan would just raise an eyebrow to himself, trying to decipher what you just said

The breaking point for Logan when he couldn’t help but want to know what was making his girl laugh more than his own regular old man jokes was when you started watching more tiktoks on your phone at night before sleeping. 

While Logan was trying to sleep, you were still up at 2 in the morning, swiping from video to video, still giggling like you weren’t tired to sleep yet. 

You were watching the recently viral “Cobra Kai Daniel Larusso Glazing Mr Miyagi” videos that were taking your fyp by storm. 

The current video you were watching included the latest viral addition to the trend that had the chaotic “GET OUT!” meme included after Larusso would mention Mr. Miyagi that made you howl like a maniac, followed by heavy laughter. 

Logan shot up from the bed, turning over to see you scrolling through the comments of the video. He looked really pissed. Not because you were keeping him from sleeping, but because he still couldn’t understand what was so funny. He wanted in. 

“What the hell is that, darl?” 

“Oh, sorry babe, was I too loud?” 

“No, I wanna know what the hell is so funny. Can you at least try to explain to me your little tiktoks?” 

You sat up, with a giddy smile, scooching closer to Logan. “Have you seen the Karate Kid movies from the 80s?” 

“Yeah, ages ago.”

“Well there’s a reboot television show called Cobra Kai with some of the same characters from the movies and in the show, people have noticed that Daniel Larusso keeps glazing Mr. Miyagi every time he has the chance and on tiktok, people have been making edits where every time Larusso says Mr. Miyagi, there’s this funny “GET OUT” audio that’s included after which just makes the theory that Daniel’s somehow heads over heels with him.” 

Logan looked at you with a concentrated face. You were hoping he somehow got it, but with the silence ongoing, Logan only seemed to have gotten confused with one tiny bit of your explanation. 

“Right, but what’s a glazing?”

You bursted out laughing over a simple question. “Logan!”

“It’s basically to over praise or over compliment someone, and in this case, it’s over Mr. Miyagi.” you explained 

You continued watching more of the mentioned tiktoks, teaching Logan how funny it was to you and how the repeated comments such as “Stroke it Daniel-san” and “Hai Daniel-san” would constantly make you laugh still, even after watching the same tiktoks with the same comment sections. 

Logan kind of understood the humor behind the viral videos now, but he still just sat shaking his head as if he was watching the same videos all over again while you continued laughing your ass off and reading the comments after each video. 

But at the end of the night, as you both settled into the bed all snuggled up together, the soft glow of the screen flickering in the dark, he found himself more captivated by your laughter than the videos themselves. You were curled up next to him, eyes sparkling with delight, as another clip played. He couldn’t quite grasp the humor the way you did, but it didn’t matter. The way your laughter bubbled up, pure and unfiltered, made his heart warm.

As you laughed, he couldn’t help but smile, soaking in the sound and the sight of your joy. It was infectious, and he loved seeing you so happy, your laughter filling the room with an energy that was impossible to resist. When the video ended, and the room grew quiet again, he realized that watching you enjoy yourself had been the best part of his night.

Later, as you both drifted off to sleep, he found himself replaying those moments in his mind, a content smile on his lips. He didn’t understand the jokes, but he didn’t need to. Seeing you so carefree and full of life was all the reason he needed to be happy.

[cloudyskydreams]

How they act when crushing UT,UF,US!

This one was fun I might do a part 2 eventually because I love how people change their behavior while crushing on someone think next is gonna be confession head canons or a drabble. Anyway requests are open! Just wanted to put that out there I love getting them ::> and I'm pretty open to writing most things I love getting different inspo from different people. Anyways I'm done rambling hope y'all enjoy!

Undertale: Sans: Trys to make you laugh as much as possible. He loves hearing your laughter and is super proud when he can get you to full on laugh with his shitty jokes. He's a daydreamer and often daydreams about you when it's slow at work or he's in bed alone. He won't admit how nice he sleeps when he sees you in his dreams. You motivate him to get out of bed easier on days he gets to see you so that's a plus

Papyrus: He likes to be around you as much as he can. Like doing menial things together?? Oh you have a doctor's appointment, sure why don't I come and we get lunch afterwards. He just likes spending time with you! "Accidentally" making too much food for meals so he has a reason to see you and make sure you're eating something.

Underfell:

Red: Heavy denial before reluctantly accepting. He's a flirty guy he thinks it's all fun and games until he's thinking about you at 3 am with a blush in his face imagining a future and doing cute relationship things with you. He knows he's fucked. He doesn't really believe someone would like him so from his perspective it's one sided attraction all the way and that hurts. He still flirts but it kinda hurts him inside too. Teasing himself with something he thinks he'll never have. He doesn't distance himself but he's a bit rougher maybe trying to scare you off a tad.

Edge: Denial worse than his brother. He doesn't have time for crushes or anything of the sort. It's improbable that he does like you that way anyways it's just a passing attraction he simply likes the way you say his name, and the way your legs look when you walk and stretch out, and oh … He's fucked. He'll continue to deny it to himself until someone ,most likely his brother or his version of Undyne, points it out. Then he's trying to hide it, trying to play it off. The passing touches he lets linger too long, how even though his days are scheduled he still somehow ends up running into you occasionally.

Underswap:

Stretch:We got another daydreamer and he's 50/50 with risque and wholesome daydreams. He finds any excuse to touch you and let's the touches linger. He's flirty and loves if you flirt back, kind of easy to fluster flushing a gorgeous marigold shade as he nye he he's. He invites you over for gaming or movie nights, wanting to share his interests with you and find some shared interests in shows and such. He definitely has written a song about you that he keeps hidden in a folder in his closet. There's a doodle of you on the back of the page and he's a little embarrassed of it.

Blue: He can tell when he likes someone like that he's pretty intune with his emotions. He likes to hang around you taking time out of his day and dedicating it specifically to you. He writes you little notes and reminders and hides them around your space to find, knows where you hide when you're sad and hides a bunch there. He blogs about you on occasion never mentioning your name but simply writing about you. He likes to find two player games for you two to play together mainly team working puzzle ones.

[222low]

ahhh i loved your wayv taking care of you when you are sick post, could you make one like that for 127? love your account! 🩷🩷🩷

127 when you're sick ⋆˚✿˖°

nct 127 comforting and taking care of you through a cold

content: fluffffffff

johnny

would drop everything to come over. sucks at cooking, but you think it's sweet that he tries to make u soup (how do you mess up soup? who knows?). you accept it gratefully as he asks what else you need to feel better. he says he'll stay with you and order it to the house, not wanting to leave your side. i think he would be cautious about getting sick, but does nottttt ever leave your side, wanting to be with you at all times.

taeyong

you guys are always together. this soon turns into taeyong getting sick with you, now you're both at home with a cold. you apologize profusely for getting him sick, now having to record another day because of his throat. but he doesn't care, he tells you he'd rather be in bed cuddling you, giving u kisses all over your face before coughing. you can't help but laugh at him, running your hands through his hair.

yuta

calls you whenever he has the chance throughout the day. uses pet names for you, just wants you to feel better. you tell him you don't need anything but he just wants to check up on you, coming to see you on his lunch break and bringing you something too. cancels weekend plans to be with you, making sure you get fresh air everyday. you tell him you're fine, and he's treating you like it's your death bed, but he doesn't care.

doyoung

maybe i'm just huge into the doyoung gentleman agenda...but i really think he would be there for u the whole time while ur recovering from your cold. if he has a busy schedule, he will make sure you get medicine sent to your door, or get someone to check up on you. he comes home to you asleep, happy you're resting as he walks over to the bed and checks your temperature with the back of his palm before giving u a goodnight kiss on your forehead.

jaehyun

tells you to stay away from him when you try giving him hugs and kisses, jokingly of course (but he secretly does not want to get sick at all). you miss him throughout the week, he told you he's busy and can't be there all the time, but he makes sure to text you when he has the chance. he makes sure to come over after his schedules to come see you, bringing you whatever you texted him to bring, showing you that he missed you just as much.

jungwoo

opposite of johnny, he knows he can't cook. he makes sure to bring you soup every night after work, wanting to sit with you at the table to eat it. tries to cheer you up with his dumb jokes, but it works because it's him. has to go out at times for work, but makes sure to call you and check if you're doing okay while he's gone, telling you he'll be back soon.

mark

doesn't know exactly what you need, so he take a trip to the store and just buys a bunch of medicine hoping it'll work. orders takeout because he's scared if he cooks something it'll make u even more sick. you're so grateful he's around to take care of you, wanting to give him a hug. he reciprocates, but sort of from the side, telling you you're not allowed to get him sick before he gives you a kiss on the head.

haechan

clingy haechan agenda is real..he doesn't wanna get himself sick but he doesn't want to leave u alone one bit. you tell him not to stay so close to you or he's not gonna be able to sing but he doesn't listen, telling you his schedule isn't thatttt busy. makes sure he cooks you soup every day, telling you he has a secret recipe that'll make u feel better quicker. loves giving u kisses on the cheeks before bed, still sleeping in the same bed as you even if he'll risk his own health.

────────────────────────────────────────────

a/n: enjoy!! a little rushed...thank u for all the love on my last 127 post. sorry if this is somewhat similar to my wayv one, i may have taken some inspo from those scenarios lolz reqs open

[hausofwoo]

strapped | park seonghwa

pairing: seonghwa x afab reader

word count: 612

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, literally just a pwp blurb, seonghwa sucking a strap on, sub!seonghwa, begging, finger sucking, hair pulling, use of petname (sweetheart)

author's note: i had the thought of seonghwa sucking a strap-on pop into my head and i had to write it out asap. very short but juicy! there will be plenty more sub!seonghwa fics from me but here's just a little taste....

seonghwa is so desperate to please you.

he sits on his knees on your shared bedroom floor, hands tied behind his back and head tilted back, looking up at you standing over him. his skin is glistening with a sheer layer of sweat and his hair is a ruffled mess from all your pulling and tugging. he’s free of all of his clothing, but his erection throbs in need.

“please,” seonghwa begs. “i’ll do whatever you want, just please touch me.”

“not yet, sweetheart,” you say, running your fingertips along the side of his jaw. his eyes are fixated on you with pupils completely blown. you place your fingers on his soft lips, prompting him to immediately open and take them in his mouth. he runs his tongue along your digits before sucking on them, eye contact persisting. you replace your two fingers with your thumb, prying open his mouth so he can take your strap.

“do something for me first, baby,” you say, watching as he lays his tongue flat for you. “suck.”

you guide your strap’s tip to his mouth, and he takes it eagerly. his plump lips enclose around the tip and gradually takes the length. he reaches the base of the strap, deep-throating it. he hums in satisfaction. he continues to bob up and down, sucking. he’s making a fucking mess, with spit covering his lips and dripping down his chin. he doesn’t seem to care anyway, with his muffled moans filling up the room.

he pulls off the strap completely, a string of saliva still connecting to his lips. he drags his tongue on the underside, making his way back to the tip before taking it into his mouth again.

yeah, maybe getting your strap sucked doesn’t physically stimulate anything for you, but seonghwa loves putting on a show for you. he loves to be degraded by you, to feel pathetic under your touch. something completely takes over him, and all he can do is follow your every order. he’s like a puppy; just so fucking eager. you love it too, being able to control what he does. it comes so naturally for you to push him around, and it only makes it ten times hotter when you notice it makes him twitch.

you grip his hair, pushing his mouth as far down on the strap he can go. his eyes roll back and he lets out a loud moan onto the toy. you yank him back off, watching his half-lidded gaze up at you as spit spills out of his swollen red lips. the saliva drops onto his crotch, right on the tip of his aching cock.

“oh fuck,” he groans, knitting his eyebrows together. his hisses, partly from pain, and the other part from pleasure. this whole time, during the teasing and the foreplay and now while giving your strap head, he’s been painfully hard. you haven’t touched him once, and it’s starting to feel excruciating. he lifts his hips, thrusting his leaking cock into the air, searching for some sort of stimulation. he squirms under your hand, leaning his head back and whining. he looks back up at you with probably the most pathetic look you’ve ever seen.

“you want me to touch you, don’t you, baby?” you say, moving your grip from his hair to caress his face.

“please,” seonghwa says, tears welling up in his eyes. his hips continue to thrust in the air slowly, cock twitching. “i’ve been so good…”

“you have been good, haven’t you?” you say. “let me take care of you…”

a/n: guys don't hate me i know it's short!!!! i was on vacay in chicago to see ateez and it gave me inspo and i had to write it out before i lost my mind. i have another fic in the works rn but i wanted to release this so u bitches had something while u wait lol

✰taglist✰ @skz1-4-3 @oddracha @luvbit3z @tunafishyfishylike @seomisaho @haizbby @hoeforalbedo @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

add me to the taglist!

[writingsfromhome]

In Plain Sight

A/N: I wanted to play with the idea of 2 characters falling in love at different points in a story and what that would be like on each side. Idk if I fully captured what I wanted but I liked writing from harry/reader pov like this even though I kept switching partways lol.

Would love to know for inspo purposes—how do you know you’re falling?

———————————————

This is a first, you thought as you and Claire walked into the art gallery—one of your friends had a show of their unique pieces, mixing tech with traditional art. All of it was inspired by their partner, the lead in an indie pop band so to tie it all together they were playing at the gallery while the pieces hung on the walls, rippling with their programmed light and movement.

Take a posh gallery and stitch it with a rave. That’s kind of what it looked like in there.

“Guess I didn’t need to look so fancy,” Claire says in your ear. You two had spent the last half hour sorting your closets to figure out what was art-show appropriate.

“Let’s find Mimi,” you shout back.

You weave through the crowds, staying on the outskirts and spot her all the way up the front by the stage. You both agree to find her later and opt for a drink instead.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight,” Claire comments as a tall guy brushes by, eyeing the length of her with a smirk before walking away. “Maybe you will.”

“That’d be nice,” you sigh. You hated being the chronically single one of your friends but that’s just how it went. Well it went beyond that—you felt unlucky in love.

Every relationship you poured yourself into and every relationship failed, just like that.

You were unloveable, maybe. You were lonely, definitely. So you’d take the warmth of a stranger where you could get it.

“I have an idea,” Claire says. “We dance our way through the crowd, I’ll be your wingwoman and we can make our way through towards Mimi. You’re so going home with someone tonight.”

You hold your glass up in agreement, you’d learned to just go with Claire’s ideas. Somehow they never worked in your favour, but that’s what you got for having a best friend that was a smokeshow. It used to bother you, but now in your late 20s after seeing Claire go through men like she went through shoes, it didn’t matter. The guys she went for also wanted a fun time like her. You wanted someone in it for the long run.

The men who felt the pull of her magnet were never meant for you anyway.

It felt mature, to think like that.

As Claire pulls you in, you find yourself dancing with male body after male body, hands on parts of you you barely touched yourself. You feel the familiar hollowness of loneliness. It was a constant companion, and yet never made you feel any less lonely.

Across the room stand two guys, they both watch Claire throw her head back and laugh. The purple and blue lights from above dance over her skin, she looked like a muse come to life. Like she was born from this art gallery.

“Mate. She’s beautiful,” Harry, the taller of the two, comments.

“You gonna talk to her?” Dylan asks. “Because if you’re not…”

“Give me a sec,” Harry got stupidly nervous around beautiful women. Which was stupid because he interacted with them on a daily basis, but that’s probably why he was considered a bit shy by people who met him. Shy was the nice way of saying awkward.

The thing with Harry is that he grew up as a wallflower. But in his mid 20s he started earning the attention of women. Pretty women. He felt like his pot of luck had been filled and then some, and yet he only got lucky on occasion. The problem was he just didn’t know what to do with his newfound attractiveness. Even 5 years on.

“There she goes,” Dylan comments as their muse moves to the bar. “Go on.”

Harry swears under his breath but makes his beeline towards her before anyone else could swoop in.

“Hiya,” Harry slides in beside her and then curses. He should have gone for something more suave. “Can I get you something-“

“I already ordered,” she smiles and Harry confirms she’s more beautiful than any of the crazy art in this room.

“Well it’s on me.”

“Thanks,” she takes him in. He tries not to squirm or think about what impression he was making. “I’m Claire.”

“Right. I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you Harry.”

“Likewise…So, erhm, you like dancing?”

She tilts her head, “I do. I was just down there.”

“I know.” Harry says. She raises a brow. Shite. “I mean like I saw you dancing. In the middle. You made it look like a fun time.”

“It is. Is dancing not fun for you?” She laughs. Her drink arrives and Harry pays for it orders for himself.

“I don’t do it a lot.” Harry taps his fingers on the bar. “I like the music part. That make you want to dance.”

She gives him that look. The look that told him he’d tipped the scales too far off to recover. Why couldn’t he just explain he made music? And dancing and making music went hand in hand. Why was that so hard to say??

“Well I’m going back in,” she announces. “Feel free to join.”

And of course he doesn’t. Because she would probably inch away from him if he did until the crowd swallowed her away.

“How’d it go? Make a good impression?” Dylan asks but Harry just downs half his drink and hopes that answers Dylan’s question. He’d made an impression alright.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the dancefloor you move to the heavy drums. This was one of your favourite songs by this group; it was on replay on your Spotify. The girl beside you grins at you and you both move in sync, shouting the lyrics. It’s more fun than you’d had with any guy here tonight.

When the band takes their break and a playlist replaces the live music, you try to find Claire. It’s surprising she doesn’t have a bloke already wrapped around her this late into the night.

“The line to the toilet is stupidly long,” she complains. “I don’t feel so good. Can we get air?”

“Of course,” you grip her arm and help her out. The night air is crisp compared to the recycled air inside. You take in a lungful.

“Hey,” Claire spots someone she knows and she moves towards them. You trail behind her as she walks up to two blokes smoking off to the side. “I never saw you dancing in there!”

The guy she’s talking to shrugs, his cheeks taking on a pinkish colour. He’s cute in a boyish way, but you reckon if he trimmed his hair and grew some scruff, he could be a lot more interesting to gaze at. A face that could hang in this art gallery, a soft pink light shimmering on the highs of his cheekbones.

His eyes clash with yours and you throw a friendly smile and make a conscious effort to join the group. You hadn’t heard what was said in the time you were admiring his face.

“I would if I hadn’t broken my foot a month ago,” the other guy says. He was a cold good-looking. Sharp features accentuated by a buzzcut. You could imagine him in an avant-garde spread of a magazine.

“Excuses!” Claire teases. She was good at this. “I was telling your friend here how fun dancing was, that he should join.”

“And he didn’t?! Harry, mate, we all know you dance.”

“Not the right setting.” He replies. Almost mumbles.

“Any setting is the right setting for dancing,” his friend says.

“Right!” Claire latches onto him, you knew her well enough she’d chosen her prey for tonight. “I feel like dancing is such a good release, any time music comes on my foot just-“

“Can’t hold it in right?” The other friend laughs. “Me too. When I’m on the tube I’m like how do I get into this without looking like a weirdo.”

Claire’s laugh crackles into the air. You smile, she was going home with him for sure.

You glance at Harry, he’s looking after her like a sad puppy. You’d seen that look too many times—dejected.

“I bet you wished you liked dancing more huh?” You tease, quiet so it doesn’t travel to the couple.

“Huh?” He looks at you like he just noticed you were standing beside him. “Oh. No?”

“Right.” Well this was awkward. “So you’re Harry. I’m y/n.”

“Oh sorry,” Claire says when she hears your name. “We’re so rude we just closed ourselves off to these two. This is y/n. and I just learned that this is Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dylan smiles at you. “Harry are you okay if we split?”

Claire looks at you, asking the same question with her eyes. You nod, and she smiles at you gratefully. Her eyes widen and she motions subtly with her head to Harry. You smile like it was a good idea but you know he wasn’t an option; he was one of Claire’s castaways. But she was too oblivious for that.

“Then there were two,” you joke, reaching for the familiar line. “Are you going back in?”

“In there?” He shakes his head. “We already said our goodbyes. I might just head home.”

“Oh okay. Did you know the artist?”

“I don’t. Dylan’s cousin is the lead singer in the band? We came by to support the show.”

“That’s nice.” You respond back even though he didn’t return the question. “I’ve worked with the artist actually—Jemima.”

“Cool. I take it you’re an artist yourself?” He asks, finally looking at you instead of around you.

“Yep. I do photography.”

A group of people exit the show and their noise drowns out whatever Harry was about to say. Without warning, like a valve opened, your chest fills with the ache of a feeling.

What am I doing here, you ask yourself. You’d come by to support Mimi, but you didn’t owe this guy anything. You should go home, do your usual routine of staring at the ceiling, hearing Claire come in late, try to drift to sleep, and then finally doing so.

Sometimes being with others felt more lonely than being alone.

“Anyway, it was nice meeting you Harry. I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh.” He seems surprised. “You’re leaving for home?”

“Well, yeah?” You shrug. “I’ve made my rounds, danced enough to need a gallon of water. My feet are telling me to go home.”

“You ladies talk about dancing and I feel like I missed out,” he laughs but it comes off kind of awkward and shy. It’s endearing.

You change your mind then—you imagine posing him at 3/4 angle and snapping him from below. Maybe a shot looking through his lashes. Something mysterious yet welcoming. The longer you got to know him, the more he shifted.

“Does that mean you want to go back in again?” You ask.

“Fuck it sure. If you come too. I don’t want to dance alone.”

“Why not? Have you never?”

“Danced alone?” He holds the door open for you and you go in. His energy seems to have shifted. He’s less awkward, more relaxed, but it still feels like you don’t have his full attention. Or maybe that was just your insecurities projected onto a beautiful man.

“I dare you,” you have to tip toe for him to hear you once you’re back in. You use both your hands on his back and guide/push him through the crowd. When you let go you open your arms wide.

He shakes his head and tries to grab your hands but you back away. “Dance!” You shout. “Let’s see.”

He laughs, his head weighing backwards like the ceiling could grant him some confidence, the length of his neck glistening with something you wanted to taste.

When he looks at you again you chant to dance and he shrugs away his shyness. Before you know it he’s moving until he’s actually in sync with the beat. You try not to be a creep, sneaking your phone out. He was a complete stranger but god the photo opportunity was perfect.

You manage two before he turns and finds you in the crowd again. He pulls you closer to him, nearly chest to chest.

“I should be a lot more drunk to be doing this.” He says in your ear. Goosebumps erupt down your arms.

Take it easy.

The two of you end up dancing for a few songs, laughing at new moves you put on. It becomes a contest to do a silly but serious move and you’re in stitches by the time the two of you stumble out.

“Jeez that was fun,” you lean against the brick fence a few buildings down. You were sweaty and out of breath, your body demanding hydration now.

“I have not done something like that in years. It was nice.” He grins. It feels like a secret. “Thank you for pushing me in.”

You felt like you should be thanking him, for the fun and for making you feel included tonight. But of course he ruins it when he opens his mouth next.

“You can tell your friend Claire I ended up dancing. It was a proper good time.”

“Yeah,” you fake a smile, the aching wound reawakening in your chest. “Maybe I will. I’m headed that way though, I’ll see you around Harry.”

His face falls for a moment, you can see him try to figure out asking you to stay but wondering why you’d gone so cold. You hated how a good looking man could fool you into thinking he could be smart. But this one was as daft as they came.

You wave and turn towards the direction of your station, feeling a bitter chill that wasn’t coming from the weather.

***

The next time you see Harry is about a month later. Claire had been seeing Dylan—they hadn’t labelled it according to her so it was still casual. But she felt good about it because he was having a thing at his flat and he’d invited her. So you join Claire since he’d extended the invitation.

“Maybe you’ll see his friend Harry.” She sings as you turn the corner to his street.

“I already told you nothing happened that night.”

“Maybe because you went home after having a marvellous dance-off with him!”

“He kinda got like soggy bread!” You complain. “If it weren’t for me the conversation would have gone stale.”

“Same here. When he spoke to me I mean,” Claire laughs. “Dylan did say he’s a bit shy. Just give him another chance.”

“He’s not interested-“

“You’re so harsh on yourself. Of course he would be! He’d be lucky to be with you…”

You let Claire launch into her tirade. Although you appreciated it, it ignored the fact that someone could just not be interested in you. Especially after fancying your friend first.

Dylan’s flat ends up being nicer than you thought, a lot of windows and fancy tech things around.

“Just call her,” you and Claire walk up to Dylan, Harry, and another guy. Dylan seems to be lecturing Harry on something.

“Call who?” Claire asks.

“Hey,” Dylan kisses her hello. “This girl Harry went to uni with. He bumped into her when she was walking her dog. Harry thinks they hit it off, but he refuses to call her!”

“Why not?!” You and Claire ask. Further proof he wasn’t into you.

“Well I friended her on Instagram and she’s just ignored it!” Harry explains.

“So? Maybe she doesn’t use instagram.” Claire offers.

“She does. I had Dylan request too and she accepted his.”

“Oh?” You notice the pitch change in Claire but nobody else does of course.

“I unfollowed her after,” Dylan says. Or maybe he did hear the change. Smart man.

The friends gathered in the room shift and flow around each other, you lose Claire pretty quickly after the hour mark like you usually did. Eventually it’s you and Harry again, sitting on the couch.

Just like soggy bread, he’s mostly silent with beer in his hand. You get tired of the silence so eventually you slide closer to him.

“So what’s with the girl from uni? Do you have history?”

“Huh?” He seems startled out of his thoughts. “Oh. Her. No we had a few classes, saw her at parties that sort of thing.”

“But it seemed promising when you saw her recently?”

“I think so?”

Poor Harry, he couldn’t even tell the difference.

“What about her number? Or try DM-ing her.”

“I don’t wanna be desperate.”

“Fine,” you think. “Nevermind. She’s probably not into you.”

“But she kept touching my arm,” Harry recalls. “Why would she touch me if she wasn’t interested?”

You look at his physique. It wasn’t anything extraordinary but you can see the temptation to touch his arms.

Meanwhile Harry watches you eye him. It was kind of funny to him. He didn’t know why Claire’s best friend always remained at the end of the night but she was easy to talk to so he didn’t mind. Better than pretending to be interested in whatever Dylan’s tech-bros were talking about.

He hadn’t actually seen Dylan in a while. Probably off with Claire, he thinks with a sigh.

“Yeah nevermind.” Harry hears you say. It’s then he realized he’d tuned you out while his brain had been running. And you had taken his sigh as a response to what you were explaining.

The conversation falls flat after that. And when Harry goes for another drink you decline, deciding it was time to head home.

Surprisingly, Harry says he could use the time away and walks you to the station. Claire was spending the night but mostly he just wanted out of the flat. Walking you a few blocks away was a good enough excuse.

***

A few weeks go by before you find yourself alone with Harry again. It was someone’s birthday, or two people’s. You forgot what exactly was the excuse you took to get out of the house. All you had to know was there were people and an open bar.

Again, you started off in a group but couples drifted away until the two of you remained. You had been standing in Harry’s blind spot so when the last couple leaves, he notices it was you.

“Hey.” Harry says to you but his eyes look out into the room, even his body faces the crowd’s direction. He should have known you were here after seeing Claire cozy up with Dylan.

It should make you feel shittier but you’re almost used to it. After a week of working from home hunched over your table editing photos for yesterday’s deadline you would take any social interaction. No matter how stale. Or soggy.

“Hey!” You elbow him so he looks at you at least. “It's been a while hasn’t it? How’s life treating you these days?”

“Yeah, it's fine.”

“Cool, yeah. Any exciting projects keeping you busy lately or…?”

“Not really. Just the usual keeping me busy right now. Same old routine y’know.”

“Right, right.” You could feel him slip away again. “Yeah. Work can be a drag. I’m pretty sure I gave myself scoliosis being hunched over for 10 hours a day this week. I’d rather fold laundry than do that again, and you probably don’t know this, but I absolute hate folding laundry. But yeah that’s my thrilling life. Anything you've been doing in your free time?”

“Nah. Just trying to stay on top of work.”

“Right.” He was the busiest man on earth apparently. “So everyone at the party’s talking about the new Love Island season. You watch it?”

“Not really into TV these days. Busy with work and all that?”

“Right. You mentioned. I did too.” You nod. “I had a lot of deadlines this week so very busy too. Busy busy. I actually got so stir-crazy I started talking to my plants? It felt silly, but my nan was saying it does help them grow so…it’s a win-win. Or maybe it’s the isolation makes you appreciate the little things…”

“Right.” Harry nods along. He’s looked at you twice this whole time. Well, glanced was more like it. And suddenly you want to scream because it was utterly unfair that you only knew him at any of these godforsaken parties. And he never wanted to talk to you, or cared to.

You’d seen him with Dylan, even with Claire! He was more animated and interested then, even though he stammered through half of it. Was there something wrong with you that put you in gray-scale in this crowd of colourful people?

You’re not Claire, the stupid voice in your head reminds you.

I didn’t need to be Claire, you remind yourself.

“So what about that girl you fancied?” You try to ask him something he might be interested in; you hated how desperate you were getting for company. “From uni? Anything come of that?”

“What?” He finally looks at you. “Oh her. No she uhm. Well embarrassing but she has a bloke. I misread the whole thing-“

“You said she was all touchy!”

“Yeah she was wasn’t she?” He scratches his head. “I dunno, i suppose she’s always been like that. So yeah, nothing happened there.”

He chuckles like he’s embarrassed, yet the smile brightens his face. It makes you a little more upset and you don’t know why.

“Maybe you dodged a bullet. Anyway. I’m gonna make some rounds. I’ll catch you around-“

“What?” He actually turns to you now. “Why?”

“What?!”

“Why you leaving?”

“I’m not leaving. I’m just doing a circle. And getting another drink.”

“Oh,” his shoulders drop a little. You’re confused, because he didn’t seem interested in having you around at all until you were leaving. “Good.”

“I didn’t think you’d miss me if I was gone with your half-ass answers.” You say before you can think. He looks a little stupefied.

“Half-ass?”

“Or were you just being a whole ass?”

“Huh?” He closes the gap between you again. “I was listening to what you were talking about.”

“Yeah. Just listening. It felt like having a conversation with paint while it dried.”

“I’d think that’s better than houseplants?”

You’re a bit stunned—he had been listening. But still. He wasn’t keeping up conversation.

“Now see if you made a joke about it back then it would have been funny. A back-and-forth conversation? Now it’s just a desperate attempt to keep me around. I don’t know what for.”

“It’s not desperate,” he argues. “I didn’t realize you’re so needy.”

You raise a brow, “I am not needy.”

“I think you are,” he grins and with his full attention on you and that stupidly smarmy grin you feel that pull again. Too bad it was just one-sided.

“I’m not. I’ll prove it by leaving your presence for good tonight. See you next time Harry.”

“Don’t be like that,” he calls after you. “And I like to keep you around because I thought we were friends!”

Your stride falters as you’re walking away. You weren’t expecting him to say that.

But wasn’t he just friends because both your friends were dating each other?

What are you even doing here with these people, the thought comes back to you again. The same one that always floated through your mind being in these sorts of places.

If Claire wasn’t dating Dylan you wouldn’t even be here. God, you needed to hang out with friends other than Claire.

***

You unwrap the belt that ties your coat closed and drop it all to the floor. Well not all, your cameras get let down gently.

Your shoulders ached. And your back and your head and your arms. Jeez.

You had a wedding gig that was paying most of this month’s rent, so you had to take it. The only thing is your job started at 6am and ended at 8pm. That was more than half a day and you were spent.

“Hey you’re home!” Claire waves at you as you pass her. She has her phone held out in front of her face, you hear Dylan’s voice on the other end.

“Is that yn? Hii!”

“Hi,” you croak to Dylan. Claire juts her lip out at the sight of you.

“I’ve already done dinner,” she says over the top of the screen. “I’m going out with Dylan and some friends later you wanna come?”

You shake your head. She knows what a low battery yn looked like.

“Okay fine. Leftovers are in the fridge for you.”

“God I love you,” you tell her as you close your bedroom door behind you and collapse into bed.

You liked it when Claire was happy in a relationship, or whatever she called them, but when she wasn’t these were the nights she’d follow you into your room after a big shoot and ask about the details. And you’d complain about the pushy customers eventually moving to how beautiful everything was. She was usually the first person to see your raw images.

But tonight while she talks to Dylan you turn on your humidifier and let the low hushing noise lull you into a relaxing trance. You remember that you only had yourself. That you had to learn to be happy with that, lonely or not.

***

Claire promised to do kitchen duty for the whole week if you came out to Jemima’s partner’s gig. And you couldn’t deny a week of no dishes or meal prep, so you drag your ass out the door despite riding on 4 hours of sleep for the last few nights. But you met your deadline this afternoon so this was as good of a celebration as any. Even if it was a Thursday night.

“So you and Dylan are getting serious huh?” You ask Claire on the tube over.

“Kinda?”

“It’s been over 3 months. Half the time you were with you know who.”

You-know-who, her one relationship that actually meant something to her. Crashed and burned two years ago.

“No,” she blushes. “It’s just, he’s pretty great but we don’t really talk about labels.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Guys always run when you do.”

Do you want that sort of guy, you want to ask. Instead you shrug, “let them.”

She rolls her eyes, accustomed to your biting remarks around men.

The gig is electrifying as soon as you arrive. It gets you moving and your sedentary body remembers it has more flex in it than just your wrist. You’re alive and sweaty a few hours later, happy that you went.

“Hey,” Claire says when you drift back to her. “Dylan said the drummer’s inviting some friends to the place she’s staying at. Wanna come?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” You were high on just being out and around people, the loneliness had been kept at bay, and you didn’t want to ruin that by going home just yet.

The drummer’s place is the bottom floor of a quaint house near Portobello. Most people are already there by the time you trail in behind Claire and Dylan.

“Look there’s Harry!” Claire shouts, pointing to the figure that was become too familiar to you. He’s listening intently to the couple in front of him. Nice to know he could do that.

You flash her a thumbs up. But her and Dylan start walking towards them. Ugh!

You eye the room, thinking you could make a run-in with alcohol instead of Harry but he looks up at the approaching couple and catches your eye. He waves.

Whatever.

The four of you eventually find a quieter room, mostly because there was a hookah circle going on and everyone there was talking in hushed voices. A stark contrast to the volume in the den.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you here.” Harry says when the two of you find yourselves alone again.

“Why not?”

“You didn’t show the last couple times we all hung out. I thought you were tired of us.”

“Maybe I am.” You raise your brow. “Did you miss me?”

“Hey!” Dylan appears in front of you two again before he could answer. “Nish is here, I heard.”

“Nish?” Harry becomes all fidgety.

“Who’s Nish?” You have to ask.

“Someone we know,” Dylan says. You look for Claire and she’s making her way to you. But before she gets there another body steps towards your group.

“Hi! Harry look at you—and Dylan, is it just me or you look more hideous than last time?” The girl cuts in and you take a step back instinctively. The group felt overcrowded.

You watch the two boys hug the new girl, Nish you assume, in greeting.

Claire approaches the group with curiosity.

Introductions are made and Dylan offers to show Nish the drinks.

Then there were three.

“She’s pretty,” you comment. You know Harry agrees what with how much he resembled a ruler.

“Yeah,” he nods stiffly.

“So were you at the gig Harry?” Claire changes the subject. “It was amazing.”

“Yeah! I was there with Dylan and some friends. Surprised I didn’t see you two.”

“Were you dancing?” Claire teases.

“I was,” he blushes. He glances at you. You recall that first night when the two of you had a lot of fun just dancing. “Maybe that’s why I missed you guys.”

You give a small smile at the in-joke. He looks back to Claire.

You all talk about the gig, and then a little about someone similar Harry was working with.

Eventually Claire wonders aloud where Dylan had gotten to and leaves.

And then there were two.

“I get this feeling something’s going to happen,” you say.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

You shrug, you didn’t quite know. The whole night was moving so fast, especially after the gig. You just had a sense you missed something and it was bothering you.

“Have you got a drink yet?” Harry asks.

“No, maybe I should.”

“Me too. I’m done mine. I think I want another.”

As you walk down the hall to where it might logically be, you hear a shout. Your stomach drops. Was this it?

“I’m sorry wait!” Someone shouts over the noise. The overall noise dies down a bit quieter. “It’s not what it-“

“Fuck off! I’m done!”

“Shite,” you recognized Claire’s voice anywhere. You rush past Harry and towards the voices.

You find Dylan shirtless and holding it against his chest. Nish is a little ways behind him, hair a lot messier than when you last saw her. Buttons undone on her dress.

You notice the lipstick on Dylan’s neck. A colour Claire would never wear.

Everything snaps into place.

You rush to Claire and try to comfort her but she hurls more insults towards Dylan over your shoulder. You manage to get her out of his sight and she fights you too, she was seething with anger.

“He’s a dick!” She screams. “Why did I think he was going to be any different oh my god! I shouldn’t have let him go alone with her, what was I thinking? Yn! Why didn’t you stop me!”

You knew it was all rhetorical. Claire rarely took romantic advice from you.

“He tried to say we weren’t even a couple I-“ her voice catches and then comes the tears. You pull her in, familiar with the routine. Next would be feeling sorry for herself, then the anger again, then telling you she needed to be alone. Then a few hours would pass before she crawled back to needing comfort again.

And it happens just so.

“I don’t need a mother right now!” Claire says as you convince her to stay with you. To head home. “I just need to clear my head! I’m sorry okay I just want to be alone!”

And you let her go.

And now you had to kill time.

You find a beer and down it. Someone nearby asks you what the drama was about and you strike up a conversation that ends in them trying to kiss you. Ew.

You wander until you find Harry again. He’s surprised you’re still here. Asks where Claire was but as you respond one of the girls from the band recognizes Harry—you’re pretty sure her name is Kate. Soon enough you’re sidelined while they talk about something you knew nothing about.

Well fuck him too, you think miserably.

You grab one of the few remaining cans and head to the back of the house. Past open doors and closed doors. The closed door intrigues you at the end of the hall.

The doorknob is stuck so you wiggle it. Probably locked.

You were tired. God, you were tired of it all.

In a moment of anger you bang your shoulder against the door and magically it opens.

It wasn’t locked, just stuck due to age.

Same, you think.

Inside is the smallest room you’ve ever seen. The size of 1.5 closets. There looks like a childs bed, the walls are covered in posters, and there’s a small set of drawers with a guitar resting on top. It’s cramped but cozy, something about it feels familiar.

You step inside and close the door.

Down goes another beer.

You hope the person who owned the room didn’t mind you crashing it. You lay in bed and let out a big sigh. And then another. It felt good. Cleansing.

You listen to the noises outside, people laughing and talking. You think about Claire. About yourself. All of your several issues combined. The dull ache of loneliness starts in your ribcage and spreads out.

The door handle rattles a few times but eventually you realize nobody’s angry enough to smash it open like you. Most people assumed it’s locked and leave.

You’re taken by surprise then the door does creak open a smidge.

Distant light travels through to paint a multi-coloured line across the floor and over the bed. You lift your fingers to touch it but it feels like everything else.

“Of course you’re in here; I wondered where you went to.” Harry reveals his face by opening the door wider, poking his head in. It looks like it’s floating and the image almost makes you laugh. Almost.

“Why?” You ask in your most disinterested voice.

He takes the question, despite it dripping with apathy, as an invitation. The door remains opened a crack, now just with Harry on the inside.

“Because you disappeared.”

“You started talking to Kate so I made my exit. Did she go home?”

“No.” He inches closer after closing the door. You have no idea how he knew exactly where you were and how to get in. With the door closed it’s not so dark that you can’t make out his figure. But he’s a shadow in the dark.

“Can you sit or something? It’s kind of creepy having you hover like that in the dark.”

“Sorry,” he laughs and again, he overextends the invitation and lays parallel to you. He’s close, with the bed being so small. Your ache spreads. “Kate’s dancing with another bloke.”

“Poor Harry.” You mock. “Every pretty lady wants to dance with someone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I have this special ability to read between the lines.”

“Well my specialty is reading between the sheets.”

The comment lands like a third person on the bed. It’s a withering creature a cross between a baby and a calf. He scoops it off with, “sorry. I really don’t know where that came from.”

You laugh. It was so silly for something so bold to come out of his mouth.

“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be that bold before. Usually I just watch you fumble around and finish up thoughts inside your head instead of out loud-“

“I do do that don’t I?”

“You said do do,” you giggle.

“Very mature.”

“Very manure.” Your giggles turn into a laugh, something’s cracked inside of you and it feels funnier than it probably is.

Harry nudges you with his elbow and it silences your laugh. It’s abrupt, and he notices. “Why’d you come in here anyway?” He asks. “I thought you’d be with Claire.”

“Were you looking for her? You could be with Claire now y’know,” you say. Some part of you knew you’re tipsy and you should shut up but in the darkness your cutting words feel blunted.

“What’s that mean?”

“Dylan the dick—that’s his new nickname just fyi. He fumbled the bag. She’s free for the taking now.”

“I feel like this violates some sort of girl-code. Shouldn’t you be warning me away?”

You scoff, “Harry don’t be coy. Everyone knows you tried to get together that first night we all met. You always look at her like a lost puppy.”

“I don’t.”

“Do so.”

“What’s it to you?“

You shrug. He’s close enough to feel it.

You were upset tonight. Angry. Angry at Dylan for being another a-hole. Angry at Claire for putting yet another man on a pedestal with all his potential he could never reach. They hadn’t labelled themselves for 3 months, what did she expect would happen?

Mostly you were upset at yourself. Because a part of you watched Claire put herself out there over and over, and you were upset that you couldn’t do the same. That your shallow bruises compares to Claire’s gashes had kept you locked up in your bedroom.

You admit it to yourself then: you kind of liked Harry. And you totally and absolutely hated it.

Because you watched him watch Claire, fumble his words with every woman you catch him with, push him away just so you don’t potentially get hurt. A part of you knows he wouldn’t like you like that. He treats you like you’re part of the furniture half the time. He’s given no indication of the sort. And you just weren’t the kind of girl to leave a confession like that hanging. You didn’t want a public unrequited crush.

It comes again. The wave of loneliness, the feeling that nobody ever has or ever will understand you. That you were an island with no dock, a house with no door. You were unknowable, and unforgettable.

“Why don’t I ever hear about your relationship exploits?” Harry suddenly asks. You forgot he was there and you startle. “Sorry were you falling asleep?”

“No.” You answer. “And because…because I’m not showy about that sort of thing. And it also doesn’t happen as often as you or Claire or Dylan the dick.”

“Wow the name’s really gonna stay.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have a boyfriend now?”

“Nope.”

“What’s your last actual relationship?”

“A long time ago.”

“Me too.” He sighs. “My last proper girlfriend was in my early 20s. She moved city. We broke up after that, long-distance is hard. I feel like every year I age, I get worse at talking to women.”

“I can confirm.”

“Well not you. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Not like that.” He backtracks, sitting up as if you could see his face. “No not like that. You’re…nice. To look at. I don’t mean that I don’t see you as a women—because you are. I see that I uhm-“

“I think you’ll have to take back your previous statement.”

His head falls back on his pillow and he laughs, it sounds like he’s choking on air a little.

“Jeez, what was that?” He asks once he pulls himself together.

“Beats me,” you say with a smirk.

“It gets pretty lonely though right.”

You let his statement sit in the dark. You don’t agree or disagree. Doing so felt like admitting something vulnerable.

“Or maybe that’s just me.” He says after a while. “Maybe you have a great life and don’t fall in love with every other person you meet.”

“Do you actually?” Your interest was piqued.

“I can’t help it. I’m a musician, I just notice something small about them and suddenly a song is being written about them in my head without even realizing. So I just fall in love with a lot of random people. And I uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to anyone!”

It was the dark. It was easier to be honest in it. No wonder churches kept their confessions in darkened corners.

You think about all the regular people you fall in love with every time you lift your camera to your face. How every person made you ache; there were whole worlds going on inside of them and you saw it all through the lens.

You wonder briefly if Harry ever wrote a song about you in his head but squash it. He barely took the time to look at you, definitely not long enough to notice you like you did him.

“Here’s my confession—same.” You try for the confession-in-the-dark thing. To make him feel better. “At least when I’m taking photos or making videos. Some people get camera shy but after talking to them they loosen up and getting to capture their whole essence in a picture or a video I just…makes me fall in love too. I like to imagine what everyone would be like in front of a camera. I dunno.”

“What a pair we make.” Harry reaches out and his hand brushes yours. You pull away, hating yourself while you do.

He clears his throat when you reject his bid to be closer, you feel his hand slide back to himself.

Harry didn’t know why sometimes it felt like you hated him and other times like you were friends. He just figured he didn’t understand women. On any spectrum.

“Y/n,” your name is loaded in the dark. You wait for him to continue but the silence stretches out.

“What?” You finally ask.

You feel the bed shift and move under you. He was turning. You feel his gaze on you. You turn your head to look back and he’s inches away. Alarms blare in your head, abort abort! But even in the darkness his eyes find some light to reflect.

Harry’s thinking the same thing about you. Somehow it’s dark but when you turn your head to look at him, your eyes twinkle with what little moonlight streams in from the window. Or maybe that was the streetlights. Either way, Harry wonders why it felt like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. How ironic that it’s in the dark too.

It happens without realizing, his mind starts to string together something about the girl laying in his bed shrouded in darkness, with light in her eyes. A girl with secrets-

The bed vibrates.

“Oh,” you turn away and take the intimate moment with you. You feel around and find your phone beside you. Claire’s face lights up the screen.

“Claire,” you sit up.

“I’m ready to go home,” Claire sniffles on the other end. “Where are you?”

“At the party. You’re still at the party right?”

“I’m just outside. I got some chips but I couldn’t find you so I finished them all.”

You laugh, “Lie. I know how you feel about sharing chips don’t worry.”

Harry watches you have this conversation. Your laugh finds its way right into his chest. He feels warm.

You look at him and hold your finger up, shimming off the foot of the bed.

“You bought two!?” You ask after Claire sniffles about how much she emotionally ate tonight.

“It’s your fault! I ate two because I couldn’t find you and they were getting cold.”

“Well I’m coming outside to save you now.”

You put the phone down and look back at Harry. He’s sat up in the bed and staring at you.

“I gotta go weirdo.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Well…I dunno if we’ll see each other as much now that-“

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“So good luck? Until next time?” You laugh, but an awkwardness starts to creep in as Harry stays unresponsive and staring on the bed. “Uhm. Okay?? Bye…”

You leave Harry as he is. Did he get all weird because Claire was on the phone? Ugh. What a liar, you think. He was still just as obsessed with her.

You feel a little bad for goading him about it earlier but it doesn’t linger long. When you see Claire you gather her up in your arms and then the two of you set off arm-in-arm back to your small flat together.

***

“So what’s happening with Kate?” Dylan asks. Harry and him are sat at the pub a few weeks later, he’s already moved on from Claire to the girl on his arm. He didn’t know how his friend did it, if Harry had a girl like Claire he wouldn’t treat her like she was disposable.

But thinking of Claire didn’t have that same spark anymore. When he thought about it, she was beautiful and spirited, the kind of woman musicians like him write songs about. But there was someone else on his mind, the kind of woman someone could spend their whole career trying to compartmentalize into songs. Songs turning into albums. Only to find nothing beats her living spirit.

How could he be so dumb, he’d been beating himself up since that night in the dark. He’d had 3 months of being around her and he never actually looked at her. Always took her for granted. God, even that first night together had been the most fun Harry had had in ages. But he’d just turned her into a friend by proximity.

But weeks gone without her, knowing there was only pure chance of bumping into her, had made Harry a regretful heart.

“Hello? Did you scare her off?” Dylan asks.

“Nah. She’s not my type.” Harry responds.

“Harry I should set you up with one of my mates. She’d be perfect for you. She’s a teacher and…”

Harry listens to Dylan’s new girl describe a friend Harry couldn’t be arsed to go out with. All because he wanted something he couldn’t have anymore.

***

Harry runs into Claire at a pub a week later. His hopes soar as high as the sky when he thinks y/n might be here.

“Hi! Claire!” Harry awkwardly stops her as she walks past the bar where he sits. He was waiting for a few of his mates to watch the football match with. Dylan was luckily out of town today, otherwise this pub would have it’s roof blown off.

“Oh Harry hi,” she’s friendly. Harry didn’t think she’d be friendly towards him. She leans in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Good! Ehm good yeah just making more music and stuff. You?”

“Better,” she rolls her eyes. “How’s Dylan the-“

“I’d rather not be in the middle. If that’s alright.” Harry says before he can think. He knew what his friend was, he didn’t want to talk about him.

“Fine.” She crosses her arms. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Watching the game?”

“Sorta. My family’s down and I know y/n hates the ruckus my brothers make watching the game at home so I’m sticking them here.”

“Oh y/n’s not here?” Harry feels his hope evaporating.

“No. What’s the deal with you and her anyway? Why didn’t you ever…?”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah!”

“She’s not interested in me,” Harry laughs. He was also blind but he doesn’t say that.

“I mean, maybe not crazily but if you asked she would have said yes. She didn’t hate you.”

“Is that the standard now?” Harry jokes.

“It is with her,” she smiles with a look in her eye like there was more there. But of course, Harry doesn’t push.

“I…I dunno. I never thought she would be interested. It never occurred to me.”

“You’re such a guy,” she scolds. “You have anyone now or you’re still regularly putting your foot in your mouth?”

Harry flushes. “I don’t. And I don’t put my foot in my mouth.”

She rolls her eyes but the smile stays on her face. “Anyway, I’m grabbing the beers. I’ll talk to you later?”

Harry nods, suddenly unable to just ask for y/n’s number. Anything.

But as she walks away he realizes he’d had a whole conversation with Claire without overthinking or being a fumbling idiot once.

He thinks back, to the last couple weeks. He realizes it’s been a while since he’s done it.

Was I finally turning a corner, Harry thinks.

***

You had a gig today filming at a studio. Some indie duo but they were gaining popularity on Tiktok and wanted some bts footage of working in the studio for an upcoming music video. You weren’t going to ask questions. It paid decent money so you said yes.

You pull into the parking lot, grateful that Claire had a car you could borrow. It helped lugging around your equipment for videoshoots. Today it was just you as your PA was out sick. It wasn’t supposed to be a lot of angles so you figured it would be okay.

You consider the day a win by the time you pack up. The group were much younger than you but very outgoing and it made for a lot of funny and sweet footage. They also had amazing voices, you told them they were going on your playlists once you got home.

Your right hand goes weightless as you walk with your bags down the hall. You turn just as the helper speaks up.

“Looked like you could use a hand.”

“Harry I…what a surprise hi!” Your mood brightens at the sight of him, despite everything.

“Hi,” he shifts the bag in his hand to return your hug. His body is solid and warm. It made no sense but you missed something about him. “How was your shoot?”

“Really good! I was shooting a…wait how did you know?”

“I saw you in there?”

“I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah I um-“

“You had nothing to do with this right?”

“And if I did?” He meets your eye and you feel out of breath with whatever speaks through them. What was up with that?

“Uhmm I owe you a thank you!?!”

Harry offers a small smile, “I was looking at your work a couple weeks back. You’re really good. I just threw your name out to a few managers if they were looking for someone…”

Harry looks different with this new information. Or maybe this was a Harry that was actually paying attention to you, it was both intimidating and touching.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

“No! No, thank you I…that’s…I’m grateful. Thank you. Can I get you a drink to say thanks?”

“Okay cuz your face was all scrunched up. I thought you were pissed.” He laughs. “And I have some things to finish up-“

“Oh right, you’re probably busy-“

“No no I would love to. Get drinks. With you.” Harry grows more awkward as the air between you crackles with something electric. Maybe, he thought, this is what happens when two people are on the same wavelength.

“Ok. Well when do you finish?”

Harry doesn’t quite hear your question. His head feels flooded with sand and he can’t stop looking at you, right in front of him finally. Why did he never notice your eyes and the way they take him in, your sweetness, the easygoing tilt of your head, or how how disarming your smile was. He chalked it up to being an idiot.

“Wait what-“ he laughs, feeling the blood flush his face. He was doing that thing again, where his brain stopped thinking in the attention of a pretty girl. “What’d you ask?”

“When you finish?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy yourself. You can feel the element of nervousness from him and it made this casual moment feel more intense.

“Maybe half hour?” Harry scratches his nose. “Are you heading somewhere now? You can hang out with me and we can go together?”

You thought about getting to see him work, it sounded promising. “Sure!”

Harry wipes his palm on his jeans and walks ahead, leading you down the hall and to the right. He opens it to a recording studio, gesturing to the chairs and taking the seat behind all the buttons. You set your things down and stand by the panel, curious what each of the controls did.

Harry glances up at you and you shoot a smile, about to ask if it was okay you watch, but he goes back to work just as quickly.

He was working on something that sounded like a pop song. You try to make out all the layers on the software he was using, it kind of looked the same when you edited a video. But there’s too many layers to distinguish.

Eventually you sit back down, admiring Harry in his element. Your mind drifts, and you wonder if everything that happened out in the hallway was a figment of your imagination or Harry was being weird with you. Because the thing about Harry being weird meant he was in his head about one thing.

You wonder, like you did every so often, what could have happened that night in the dark the last time you saw him if Claire hadn’t called. Harry had looked at you like he had just met you—with a good curiosity.

But then again, this was the same Harry that probably looked at Claire with the same look.

“Done.” Harry turns in his swivel chair with a grin an hour or so later.

“Great!” You shake off your thoughts and set your laptop down.

“Did you want to leave your things here?”

“I have a car I can put them in?”

“The place I was gonna take you to isn’t that far from here.”

So you agree, and leave your equipment in the studio. The two of you walk out, talking about what he was working on. He asks you about your shoot today and the conversation carries you to the pub he had picked out.

Conversation starts to fizzle out as you tuck into your booth seat.

“What you guys getting today?” The waitress appears almost instantly, it startles you.

You look at the menu and to her. She’s got a beautiful face, round cheeks framed by micro bangs and night-black eyebrows that made her look permanently unimpressed. And yet her rosy cheeks and button nose were a friendly addition to the severity of the rest of her.

You glance at Harry, ready for him to be a bumbling idiot around her. He glances at you from the menu when he senses you looking over and for a second you feel the loneliness creep in. Despite the warm smile he sends your way.

“Can we get a few more minutes?” Harry asks her. She pockets her things without another word and walks away.

“What’s good here?” You ask to fill the silence.

The two of you go over the menu and by the time the waitress returns you’re ready. You watch Harry ask her questions and place the order, confident and direct. His eyes slide to yours every so often and each time they do you feel your resolve slip a little more.

“What’s changed then Harry?” You tease when she leaves. You tease, but you seriously want to know. “I thought you’d be a puddle of words around a woman that gorgeous.”

“Her?” Harry glances back. “I guess. I’m not such a mess.”

“Oh you so are.” You laugh. “You’re all ums and uhs.”

“I’m…fine. I’m not so bad anymore!”

“Yeah so? What happened?”

He looks at you with such a serious look that your smile dies down.

“Drinks,” the waitress places them down on the table, saving the both of you from whatever would have come next.

“Thanks,” you tell her and pull the distraction towards you.

“Let’s just say,” Harry says after she leaves. “I gained some perspective.”

You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to push it any more. “Okay.”

For the first time in a while, your nerves overtake the anxious discomfort you usually lived with. Something was definitely happening here—you weren’t hallucinating. But you weren’t sure where it was going, and if you wanted it.

Of course you want it, stop convincing yourself otherwise, you tell yourself.

Why did vulnerability feel like facing mount everest in just your pjs.

“I bumped into Claire a few weeks ago, she seems to be doing well.” Harry says and you can’t help but overanalyze for a heartbeat. He’d brought Claire up after all.

“Oh she didn’t mention,” you reply.

“She was with her family? Said you kicked them out of the flat-“

“Oh!” You laugh. “Yeah her brothers get stupidly rowdy when the football’s on. This one time I had an interview early the next morning and—this was before I knew how loud they could get. And I was up. Until 2am nearly to tears! Finally I snapped, they call it the y/n-geddon. Then of course I felt so bad I couldn’t sleep for another two hours. Now we just draw boundaries.”

Harry laughs at your story. “Sounds scary. Now it makes sense though.”

“Better for everyone,” you laugh. “But yeah. Claire’s been good, it was nice her family was down she’s always more herself when they do.”

Your food arrives and you put the conversation on pause as you tuck in.

“How about you?” Harry asks. “Your family?”

You tell him about your family and the conversation moves on to moving out, living in the city. It branches out naturally like a tree, and both of you relax into each other’s company.

It was really nice, you admit to yourself. It felt like talking to an actual person rather than the shell of someone. Which is how it felt like talking to Harry in the past. The only soggy bread was the butty dipped in your soup.

You pay, as you insist it was to thank him for the help. It’s cooler out when you had back to the studio for your things and there’s more people out; those free of their office jobs and roaming for a drink to relax into.

The studio’s empty and you head towards your bags, asking Harry if he was heading home too.

“Yeah, I’ve been here since 6 so I think I’m ready to go home.”

“Shite that’s early!”

“Deadlines!” He sighs. “What can ya do.”

“Can I give you a ride somewhere at least?”

“If you’re going in the direction of the station I’ll hop in.”

“Yeah sure!”

“Good thing you have a car with all that equipment.”

“Yeah my thoughts this morning. But that reminds me of all the footage I have to edit.” You say. “Thanks to you.”

“Anytime. Anytime y/n. I’m gonna keep whispering your name around. You’ll be fully booked soon just watch and see.”

“You don’t have to,” you set your things back on the ground. It didn’t seem like Harry was in a hurry to get out.

“I want to,” he replies seriously. The room feels smaller than it did seconds ago, or maybe the awareness of Harry’s proximity tightened the space between you.

“Thanks,” you try to meet his eye as you say it but it’s hard to. His gaze strips away any doubt you had; his feelings are written all over his face. All you could think was: Holy Fuck what is this

“It’s my pleasure,” he says which just sucks any remaining oxygen out of the room.

When you’re on autopilot you don’t even think, you just go through the motions. That’s what it felt like, one second you’re standing opposite Harry. The next you’re standing right in front of him and his lips are on yours.

Maybe you just imagined this scene so much it became repetitive and now this—kissing him, felt so familiar.

He’s nothing like the timid and awkward Harry you watch at parties and pubs. He’s sure of himself, kissing you in the exact way to soothe your past aches; your loneliness is washed away like ocean tides over words etched in the sand. You get lost in it. In him.

You don’t know when his hands slide around your waist and pull you in. His lips are soft and gentle. Your mind blanks as the sensation of being held, of his touch, spreads. You don’t realize you stop kissing back, just for a second, until he pulls away.

Harry takes a deep breath, face pink and brows furrowed. This felt right, but was he reading it wrong? He did that often.

You take a small step back, needing the space to process. It felt right, better than your imagination, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him.

“So um,” you bite your lip. “You still want that ride?”

“Where is it going?” He asks, the tightness in his chest easing a little when you look up at him, head tilted and a nervous expression on. He wasn’t reading it wrong. Both of you were just a little overwhelmed.

“Anywhere you want it to. I was thinking it could go home.”

“Mmm,” he nods. “Home sounds nice.”

With a smile exchanged, he lifts most of your equipment to the car. You have to take a beat outside the car just to force your brain to go from scrambled to whole so you can manage the drive home. It took every ounce of concentration.

Claire’s not home when you get there and you’re so grateful for that. Firstly, you just wanted to get him back into your bedroom. Secondly, you wanted this just between the two of you. At least for today.

You drop her a text in case, like you two usually did. You tell her you had company over.

The rest of the night can be spent uninterrupted.

You set everything in the living room and take Harry back to your bedroom.

He looks around curiously, taking in the photos on the walls and the things on the dresser.

You watch him, feeling a little exposed. he was looking. Seeing. You. It was different. Good different.

Harry looks at you with a question and you answer by closing the space between you; he reaches his arms out and your body is engulfed by him. Your lips meet, this time less hesitant.

It’s not long before Harry pulls you towards the bed, falling backwards with you on top of him. You straddle his hips and kiss him like a teenager. You feel his fingers brush your waist and tug at the bottom of your top.

It’s off in an instant and you try to hide the smile as Harry takes in the sight of you, his eyes filling with awe. He was such a dork. But it made you feel empowered, and seen. You reach for his shirt and he lets you take it off.

When you lean forward again, chests pressed together, his hands find the small of your back. They trace circles there, sending shivers up your spine.

You take the cue and kiss him slowly, rocking your hips against him. He gasps, his hands tightening as you trail kisses along his neck.

The sounds he makes go straight to your core and you feel the familiar flutter that tells you to hurry. You move back, undoing his jeans and helping him slide them off.

“You’re alright with this?” He breathes into your skin.

Your heart thuds in your ribcage, but mostly from anticipation; you never realized how long you wanted this for. Wanted him.

“Of course,” you pause and so does he. “Took you long enough.”

With a wry smile he covers your mouth with his and soon the two of you find a rhythm that no song could compete with. You find company in someone you’d sworn could never be yours.

It’s bliss.

***

The sun filters through the window and casts a warm light across your floor.

You were in your own bed, and in the middle of the mattress with a leg thrown over the edge was Harry, sound asleep. Tbe weight of his arm over your waist and the steady sound of his breathing is the proof you needed that this was real. He was real.

The two of you hadn't bothered to get dressed last night. It was an unspoken understanding that this wasn’t the end.

You turn onto your side; it was a nice view.

It was a nice morning, actually. The first morning in a while where you not only woke to a warm body, but one that felt like it belonged. That wasn’t going anywhere

Claire must be somewhere in the flat, you realize. You hadn’t heard her come in.

Harry starts to stir as light fills the room. His eyes squint open and his left hand comes up to cover his face.

You reach over to run your fingers through his hair and he sighs, his face relaxing into a smile.

Harry turns to you, eyes finally open and alert and your heart thumps happily.

There was no need for words.

You snuggle closer and he wraps an arm around you. You bury your face into his neck and breathe in his scent.

He laughs quietly, his chest rumbling under you. You kiss him and he responds in kind.

This time there was no rush.

The morning was warm, and so were you.

5 months later

You get there early, you wanted a moment before the guests to take in your accomplishment. Sure you’d been published on websites and magazines before. Your dream has always been to live forever on an album cover. And you’d finally done it.

The venue was a sparkly room thanks to all the disco balls. They contrasted against the rich fabric and wood beams all over the space.

You take a ton of pictures to send to your friends and family.

You mingle with guests as they come in, trying not to give in too much to the hollowed out feeling that came with a string of strangers and the tiresome small talk. You smile and introduce yourself, you know this was how connections were made. In rooms like this.

You feel him come in as you give in to a second drink. You’re at the bar, and your eyes lift up to the entrance and there’s Harry. Your Harry.

Harry’s eyes skim the crowd looking for someone. His someone. No other person mattered until he could locate her. That’s how it felt these days. A million faces could blur by but hers was the one he looked for every time.

He sees her. Looking at him. Of course she’s already spotted him.

You watch as his face splits into an eager smile, his hand raising above his head.

Harry was like fresh lemonade poured into a cup of ice, all of the tiring talks and fake smiles from before vanish as you drink him in. He’s looking at you, only you. You’re looking at only him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says as a greeting.

“That’s alright,” you peck his lips. “I was just taking a breather.”

“Is the band here? My phone died on the ride so I couldn’t check in.”

“I thought I saw one of them somewhere in that crowd,” you point to the right.

Harry had gotten you this gig. It was the third thing he’d helped you get and slowly you were able to take on less and less wedding and marketing jobs and focus on the music industry. It filled your days and nights with passion-fuelled hard work. You loved every second of it.

And when you weren’t working, you spent time with Harry. It had been 5 months since you started dating. Neither of you questioned what your labels were. You just knew there was nothing else you two could be.

You teased him a lot, how he took the long way to finally recognize the truth. But he made up for it all the time. He made sure you knew how you were the only one for him.

“That is one perfect album,” Harry slips his hand around your waist. Your photograph is blown out to a tapestry and hangs in the middle of the space. It was a sophomore album for the band and with their debut a hit, this tapestry was going to be signed and auctioned. Eventually it would sit somewhere, your photograph, coveted as a piece of music history.

“This is unreal,” you squeeze Harry. “How amazing is it that we both got to work on this album in our own specialties?”

“A perfect match I’d say,” he kisses you.

“What a pair we make,” you grin.

“I see many more shared projects in our future,” Harry promises.

“I’d like that.” It was one of the things you loved about being with Harry, your creativity and how both of you shared a similar industry at times. It brought you closer together, swapping ideas and stories.

“One day I’m going to need album art for the EP I release.”

“Ooh yes,” you clutch his arm. Lately Harry has been spending some times with his head in a brand new notebook, he said he was working on his personal project. “I can’t wait for that day. I have so many ideas of styling you.”

You had a particular image that sat on your phone from the very first night you met. One where he’s dancing alone in a crowd, red lighting casting half his face in shadow and the other in a vibrant scarlet. His eyes are closed and his brows scrunched as his body flows with movement, even in a still picture. You adored it. It was one of the best photos you ever took.

“Me?” Harry looks down at you. He knew whatever songs he pulled together for an EP would be about you. His rush to write recently were from all the time spent being in your presence. It was intense, it had only been 5 months of dating, but somehow he thought you might understand. “I was thinking the cover art could be the subject of my songs.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “How do you feel about self-portraits?”

Your face grows slack as it dawns on you. He had a whole EP in mind, about you.

“Well?” He twitches his hand on your waist, tugging you a little closer.

“Self-portraits sound a bit lonely,” you will your eyes not to tear up.

“But you won’t be,” Harry tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have me. You won’t ever be lonely.”

“I know,” you feel the emotion catch in your throat as you gaze up into his photographic eyes. You can’t explain it but your body feels grounded—more grounded than it’s ever been. Here in his arms you felt together, like you were a book finally finding a shelf to lean on.

The two of you stand side by side and look at the people this collaborative masterpiece brought together. The room fills with the energy of the music. It was special.

"I love you," Harry reminds you.

"I love you too," you respond.

Your life hadn’t change all at once, not really. The biggest thing that changed was Harry. His presence, his attitude, his attention—it shifted. He wasn’t just a guy on the periphery, in proximity. He had you in his sights and he in yours.

You noticed small new things about him, and you wondered if everyone did. He was more confident and present, rooted to and with you. Both of you had bloomed, like caterpillars into butterflies. A pair of butterflies—you should tell him that.

Sometimes you thought you were just born lonely, it’s how it always was and has been. With Harry, you felt less lonely. You felt like things could really change for you.

You extend your hand to him and motion to the dance floor. It was a tradition now—no dance floor would go unmarked by the two of you.

He takes your hand and you lead him there. And with you in his arms he feels set free, like always.

Out of the cocoon and into the embrace of belonging, two butterflies dance in plain sight.

[hellsgreatestbrainrot]

Mafia Boss!Reader x Vees

Is this indulgence? Yes. Do I still want you to hear me out? Yes, please and thank you.

I'm thinking about someone who's gonna stand up to them and be ballsy as hell about it. I'm thinking about Mafia Boss!Reader possibly being the 4th Vee. I want the Vees to go gaga over Reader. I want them drooling and shaking from how much they want Reader to be on their team.

The possibilities are ENDLESS for PLOT.

How they met you?

I'm thinking about Reader owning several bars where they exchange drugs and angelic weapons in private booths. Maybe the Vees smell out the competition and see you in all your intimidating glory. They watch you command people and direct them which way to go with just a flick of a hand. They're curious.

Maybe you own a fighting ring? Meet Vox for promotional purposes. Meet Velvette for outfits for ring girls. Meet Valentino perhaps because he wants to hire some of your fighters for his porn studio.

Maybe you're a drug dealer too that specializes in new drugs that don't do much damage to the body and maybe even enhanced them in some way? Imagine Valentino wanting to get his hands on that and trying to make deals with you because he wants you on his line.

Weaponsmith?? Weapon's dealer?? Making custom weapons?? Offer protective services and bodyguard duties?? JUST WEAPONS.

Why do they want you and how would they feel about you?

I'm very sure that Valentino would drool over you. God the power you have? The intimidation? SO VERY SEXY FOR HIM.

Trust that he's gonna be the mafia wife to your mafia boss. I'm sure he's gonna be head over heels over the idea of Mafia Boss!Reader being his guard dog of sorts.

Velvette? The OUTFIT INSPOS ARE ENDLESS. She's gonna make so much content and sell the idea that she's with someone so fucking strong so you don't get any fucking ideas with her and get cute.

Plus, she's definitely gonna pull the "DO YOU KNOW WHO FUCK WE ARE" and the "DO YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING CLUE WHO I AM CONNECTED WITH"

Vox? He's gonna fucking like the pull you have and the fact that you have a lot of men that he can use to dispose of trash.

His twink ass is shaking for you because you're THE BOSS (bend him over and spank him when he's being a brat). You're this big name with people on your beck and call.

THE POWER YOU HAVE IS SO FUCKING HOT TO HIM BULLY HIM WITH IT STEP ON HIM

Will I write more? Probably :))