#Someone get these two assholes out of my head please and thank you

[hyuckworld]

need to binge the masterlist…. long overdue but ๐·°(⋟﹏⋞)°·๐ (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) "(っ- ‸ - ς)ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 (꩜ᯅ ꩜｡) ദ്ദി˙ ᴗ ˙ ) interpret this message

also i have almost (almost......) forgiven you for The Crime™ but i will be mourning its loss while i read this #seventeen fluff fic…….. also can’t say i’m surprised about mingyu being bullied but mc better than me because i would Not let him be my EX

vernon already going through it at work and then there’s mc god (Pretending I Don’t Know What Vernon’s About To Be Put Through) but oml him geeking over how pretty she is what if i Die <///3 the disney movie discrimination is CRAZYYY if vernon was woke enough he would’ve been even More down bad after the disney princess movie question

He tried, as confidently as he could, to voice out his supposed opinion. “Nolan’s Inception is one of the greatest films ever made.”

LMFAOOOO THIS MADE ME LAUGH TOO SORRY VERNON of course he’s a christopher nolan fanboy 🤮

HIM TAKING HIS SISTERS MOVIE SET IS INSANEEEEE i would never forgive him fr but also from mc’s perspective…… waoww ❤️ he want me so bad ❤️

vernon: Mingyu was the biggest piece of shit to grace the halls of his university me: 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 #NEEDTHAT

Your smirk deepened. “Judging by your blush, you’re either terrible at lying…or,” you offered, voice lowering a little as you drummed your fingers against the counter, “You’ve never had a hot girl this close to you.”

my queen why en GET HIM AGAIN!!!!!

this might as well be a contract killing with the way they’re about to swipe mingyu’s entire collection Tbh but ACTUALLY SO VALID BECAUSE WHY IS MINGYU SLANDERING MC LIKE THIS 😡 also vernon feeling guilty for being an asshole because of his hate boner for mingyu #truelove

AND VERNON AGREEING TO THIS PLAN WITH ZERO CONTEXT OF WHAT IT IS LIKE HE IS DOWN HORRENDOUSSSS he’s so valid tho don’t let anyone hurt ur queen <3

“Please tell me, Miss Bond, how are you planning to carry this out?” You offered him an incredulous look. “I don’t know what that reference means, I’m too pretty.”

LMFAOAOOA THIS IS THEE BEST TWO LINER ok three but like. ok just the dialogue. ok.

vernon malfunctioning because he insinuated he wanted to see mc again and in the context of robbing mingyu’s house again GODDD WHAT A LOSERRR (i want him so bad u have no idea) (god i should’ve bullied u harder into writing that smut scene)

You still could not believe how your ex-boyfriend was taking this long for the realisation to hit. Even when Eric jumped up on the screen, holding onto the ship’s ropes, the watcher only regarded the character intently, as if he was somehow part of the stranger film.

LMFAOOO WHY DID IT TAKE HIM SO LONG TO REALIZE FUCKKK he just secretly really enjoyed watching it ❤️ AND HIM TAKING SO LONG ON MULAN TOO i love my men useless with innate babygirlism so somehow this isn’t even giving me the ick .

VERNON HALFWAY OUT THE WINDOW AND MINGYU STILL CALLING HIM A NERD GODDD HOW ARE U GONNA ROB SOMEONE AND STILL GET GAGGED . okay wait my bad i read further and he actually followed up with the craziest line ever #ThankYouAmourCheol like wow. true literature

the way he’s so endeared even though she’s geeking out to disney Omg that is called real true love <3 UR KIDDING HES GONNA KISS HER TO THIS SONG….WWAOWW oh i killed myself i really did <3//33 WOW WOWW….. and she likes him sm missing out on TANGLED for a man like gawd. and the shrek reveal was so perfect he really matched her freak in the end

worst timeskip of my life TELL US WHAT HAPPENED IN BETWEEN. also the fact that it was to shrek goddd they were boning to all star

THE BARBENHEIMER SCENE LMFAOOOO kitten and the reader killed themselves after reading that thank u mc Okay waow. CUTEST FACKING FIC EVER i need to die at the way he was ready to commit crimes for mc from beginning to end. his down badness needs to be studied. in a lab. with me as head scientist. anyways that was beautiful and i think fia ficology also needs to be studied because how does it hit every single time!!!!!!!

𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐨-𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝

❝Who knew all it takes is a hot girl with top-tier taste for a man to admit he's wrong?❞

𝒈 𝒆 𝒏 𝒓 𝒆 : fluff, comedy, suggestive, college! au

𝒘 𝒐 𝒓 𝒅 𝒄 𝒐 𝒖 𝒏 𝒕 : 21.7k words

𝒔 𝒖 𝒎 𝒎 𝒂 𝒓 𝒚 : self-proclaimed movie mastermind chwe vernon minds his business—whether that be avoiding the popular, problematic kids in his college to reducing customer interest in his parents' film store. his plan of isolation, however, is completely destroyed when you, a seemingly insane disney fan, slam his perfect movie taste and ask for his help to take down an evil ex.

𝒄 𝒐 𝒏 𝒕 𝒆 𝒏 𝒕 : loosely inspired by watching the detectives, film major! vernon who owns an outdated film store, fem! reader is the baddest (but also the craziest) bitch in this fic, vernon is a loser, film major! mingyu who will be violated many times in this fic sorry king, mentions of many filmbro films which will also be violated, self-indulgent mentions of some of my favourite films, a few super dark jokes nothing serious though, kissing, mentions of sex and the act of cumming (all joking wise) but no actual sex because im fearing god today (super suggestive at best), barbenheimer reference <3

𝒕 𝒂 𝒈 𝒍 𝒊 𝒔 𝒕 : @hyuckworld @junyangis @hiraethmae @lllucere @intoanothermind @kokoiinuts @shnnzsworld @lilifiedeans @talkyoongitome @vanishingboots @cookiearmy @person1fys

𝒂 𝒖 𝒕 𝒉 𝒐 𝒓 ' 𝒔 𝒏 𝒐 𝒕 𝒆 : she is finally here !! so so sorry for taking so long </3 i never thought it would be finished atp but thank you addy and alice for pushing me to complete this lil fic !! addy ur film major info birthed the filmbro slander, and alice...no smut LMAO LOSER anyway do enjoy homies <33

𝒑 𝒍 𝒂 𝒚 𝒍 𝒊 𝒔 𝒕 : if you're too shy (then let me know) by the 1975 || q&a by seventeen || wonderful women by the smiths || confidence by ocean alley || talk talk by charli xcx || oh my! by seventeen

back to masterlist

“NO, THE HOBBIT IS SET BEFORE THE LORD OF THE RINGS.”

This particular customer, however, refused to grasp the concept. “But the Hobbit was released after,” he repeated, as if he had not heard twenty minutes ago, when he first entered the store. “Wouldn’t it make sense to watch the more recent movies?”

Vernon clamped his lips together, stopping himself from saying something that would lose him a potential buyer. Well, not that it would matter much, considering the man before him could not comprehend what a prequel was, but still—he had to make this idiot understand.

“I understand that, sir, but the Hobbit is a prequel to the Lord of the Rings.” Holding onto the DVD set, he pointed to the grand picture of the movie’s protagonist. “It’s based on Bilbo Baggins’ adventures.”

“But was that not the little fellow from the Rings?”

“No, sir, that was Frodo. Bilbo is Frodo’s uncle.” The boy then clarified, tone heightening, “You know, where he reclaims his home from Smaug?”

“Smog?” The customer parroted incorrectly, scratching his hair as if the action would jog his memory. “Now why does this hobbit’s home have health violations?”

The twist of his lips was inevitable. “Smaug,” he corrected. “The dragon…the villain…the whole reason the movie was created?”

“See, I only know that one slimy creature with the ring. What was he always saying…” The man snapped his fingers, a lightbulb switching in his otherwise empty brain. “Ah, yes!” He then completely distorted his voice, rasping, “My presh-shious!”

For a split second, Vernon was a little gob-smacked at the impression. Then, he remembered he needed sales, and made sure to laugh as if that customer was the funniest man that ever stepped foot in the store. 

This particular joker, who was clearly not understanding Vernon’s analogies, instead asked, “Well, which one do you recommend?”

Ah, the fated question. 

Besides from the Lord of the Rings collection, he had been asked this very question a few too many times, when customers would browse the films on offer and ask for his opinion. Not that he considered himself an all-knowing master of movies—

He smiled. Now that was something he could chuckle about.

“Well, sir, the Lord of the Rings is a timeless classic. I would recommend it to anyone interested in a well-written, well-produced fantasy.”

The man twisted his lips. “But I don’t really like fantasy, though.” 

Vernon could not help his smile dropping. I don’t get paid enough for this.

With as much strength he could muster, he persuaded the idiot to get a rom-com instead, and ushered him out. 

He sighed, going back to the desk. The store was never busy—unsurprising, since nobody buys DVDs anymore—but that was how he liked it. The less customers that bothered him, the better. He did not want to be that type of guy, but he would rather have his own company than those who thought that the Marvel movies were God’s gift to man. (The Spiderman movies, however, he had to leave out of his apparently controversial statement).

Vernon was about to close the shop out of pure boredom when someone stepped in. 

His eyes darted to the newcomer. 

They stayed as he beheld you.

Perhaps this was a gross generalisation, but he did not expect someone so cute walking in a store this run-down. Maybe you had mistaken it for a vintage shop, planning to rob the CDs, or thought there might be decades old clothing in here. He was certain you had walked in by mistake, but then you began to browse the movie sections.

His first thought was that you seemed to have excellent taste. 

You slowed your steps in the classics section, eyes roaming at the Fan Favourites shelf which was simply movies Vernon had seen this week. Still, they were amazing fucking movies, hence their place on the shelf, now being admired by the likes of you. He wondered what you thought of the one DVD you picked up, assessing the blurb at the back. Roman Holiday. The boy could have smiled—you truly had a knack for picking out special films. 

Your fingers lingered on the movies for only a couple of minutes before you saw the desk—first the counter, and then the person behind it. 

The fact that your first instinct was to smile at the boy behind the counter had a profound effect on him.

Now, he did not want to sound pathetic; he did not know you, had never seen you before, but someone this aesthetically pleasing did not come to stores like his. Someone who picks up Roman fucking Holiday and be this cute did not acknowledge boys like him.

But Vernon Chwe will be cool about it. He will not look like a loser in front of you.

He pretended to look over some DVDs on the counter desk as you approached him. “Hey, there,” you greeted, and only then he allowed himself to look up, glancing you over. Already you had propped your arms on the top, eyes darting around the store as if finding something which deserved your attention. “I wanted to ask about a specific film. Well, films.” 

Films? Vernon really thought all the intelligent minds had rotted in this lifetime, but clearly you were an exception. “Of course,” he said, setting the movie on the side. “What genres are you interested in?” he ticked his head towards the Fan Favourites. “You were looking in the right place, to be fair.”

“Hmm?” you only spared that shelf a momentary—dismissive—glance. “Oh, sorry! I was looking for a specific box-set, but I can’t seem to find it on the shelves. I was hoping you could have it out back.”

Specific box-set? Vernon tried to contain his smile. Of course you were looking for a collection of timeless classics. “What’re you looking for?” he asked you, hoping you were going to request Hitchcock’s best. If you asked for Wong Kar-Wai’s trilogy, he might have fallen to his knees. 

You smiled at him.

Then dropped the bomb.

“I don’t know if you’d have the Disney Princess box set? You know, the complete edition?”

Vernon’s eye twitched a little. What the fuck?

Your gaze on him did not shift. “Are you okay?”

It took a moment for him to realise that you had asked him a question. “Huh? Right, sorry,” he said hurriedly, mind rushing for the many possibilities as to why you had requested a set like that. Perhaps you were braindead? No, that was too harsh. But then, who was watching Disney movies at that age?

Then an idea came into his head, and it made him feel much better. 

“So sorry about that,” he reiterated, scratching the back of his neck. “Anyway…Disney Princess set, huh?” He sighed out a laugh. “A sweet treat for your younger siblings, then.”

“Younger siblings?” A swift shake of your head, still smiling. “Haven’t got any of those.” 

The twitching was back. “...anyone under the age of 12 you know?”

“Now you’re making me sound like a freak,” you mused, locking your hands together. “Is it that shocking that I’m getting the set for myself?”

Vernon’s any attempt to diffuse the conversation died the moment you said those words.

Disney. Princess. Movies. The box-set you wanted was a Disney. Fucking. Princess box-set. 

At this rate, his eye-twitching was very much visible to you. “Don’t tell me no one’s ever bought a Disney movie from you,” you said, surprised by his change of attitude.

“Well,” he jeered, “I usually have first-time parents with their toddler kids asking me about sets like that.” 

You then titled your head back a little, taken aback with the comment. “Are you saying I’m too old to watch Disney movies?”

“No!” he instinctively defended himself, though he had virtually no defence to offer. He had, in his own words, called you a hag. 

This was it—he was usually stellar at keeping his opinions to himself. Now, the one time he could have kept his mouth shut, it spluttered open and not only embarrassed him, but one of the only cute potential customers. He was his own saboteur. His own destruction. 

After catching the flurry of emotions on his face, you had a realisation. 

Did his stupid comments get to you? Perhaps they would have, had you not seen his like before. Not only that, you had a sneaky feeling he himself had no clue on what category he was slotted into.

So you let the corners of your mouth curve upwards—up to the point where you were smirking, completely catching the boy off guard. 

“My god, you’re a filmbro!” 

Those emotions that you had witnessed now all conjoined into confusion. “Huh?” was his intelligent answer to the accusation. Filmbro?

And then you began to chuckle—little bursts of soft giggles, which escaped your mouth the more the revelation settled over you. “Wait, wait,” you began, “I need to ask this first!” You wiggled your finger at him. “What is your favourite film?”

Again, the fated question. This time, though, he felt as if his answer would not be the right one. Still—if there was one thing he was confident about, it was his expertise in films.

He tried, as confidently as he could, to voice out his supposed opinion. “Nolan’s Inception is one of the greatest films ever made.” 

There was one, solitary, quiet moment.

It was ruined by the subsequent laughter, courtesy of your mouth, which could not shut after his answer. You had to grip the counter, cackling at the response, and Vernon could only gawk at you, face reddening with every second spent watching you keel over. 

After what seemed like a lifetime (but was only about thirty seconds), Vernon finally cleared his throat. “Alright now, that’s enough comedy,” he muttered.

Another thirty seconds later, you finally seemed to calm down. The mischievous mirth on your face, although would have had any man swooning at your feet, seemed to irritate him all the more. “I’m sorry,” you gasped out, wiping a slight tear from your eye, “You just…you reminded me of my boyfriend.”

Of course. Vernon nearly clicked his tongue in disappointment. Of course the pretty, borderline-mean, borderline-terrible-taste-in-movies girl was taken. Fuck my life, son.

Your smile flickered—almost as if it turned cruel. “My mistake…ex-boyfriend.”

His eyebrow then raised a little. Maybe life can be unfucked; maybe the pretty, not-that-mean-as-he-thought, changeable-taste-in-movies girl was still attainable. 

Your eyes wandered once more, but this time to your hands. “I was actually going to get the Disney Princess set for him.”

The eyebrow decided to raise further up. He was dying to know why you were 1) getting your ex-boyfriend a present and 2) getting your ex-boyfriend the worst fucking present. But of course, due to the lack of balls in his pants, he did not ask you.

The crazier notion was, maybe you knew the lack of balls that should be present in his pants, because you iterated for him. “I’m surprised you’re not asking why I’m giving my ex a Disney Princess movie set, Mr. Filmbro.”

That term had him immediately frowning. “I don’t particularly care,” he lied as best as he could. He then crossed his arms. “Plus, I’m afraid the store doesn’t have the sets. I’m gonna have to order them in.”

A tilt of your head. “Are you lying?”

The cross of his arms was gone—now his hands were raised in surrender. “No, no!” At least not the set order bit…

Although it was quite clear that you did not believe him, you spared him this once. “Alright…” you receded your arms from the desk, taking a step back. Instead, you pointed at him. “But don’t think I’m gonna leave you alone on this!” 

Vernon’s insanely suave, cool, mystique response was giving you a thumb’s up. “Of course.” 

As you walked back to the entrance, hand on the door, you looked back at him. “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Filmbro.” 

The eye-twitch was about to come back. He did not bother waving as you left the shop.

VERNON COULD NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU FOR THE SEVEN DAYS BETWEEN YOU AND TODAY. 

It was slightly embarrassing—he supposed he should have expected some extraordinary meet-cute, where someone who looked and acted like you would waltz into his dusty-ass film store and ask for possibly the worst movie collection to grace the western cinema. 

But then you called him a fucking Filmbro, and now the self-hatred might bubble to the surface of his usual calm demeanour. 

The boy scoffed as he fixed the alphabetical order of the CD covers, located in the Classics section. Filmbro…what the fuck do I look like a Filmbro for…

He firstly supposed that he should consider it a compliment—so what if he had superior knowledge of movies over the average morons that wandered into the store? He was paid minimum wage for this knowledge! Fuck, he was doing a degree within this field! (Not that he was quite sure he would end up as a blockbuster director at the fine age of 21, but the arts majors were always told to dream beyond the realistic limits.)

The more he contemplated over the vicious term, the more it began to bother him. Filmbro…Film. Bro. God, it sounded like a classist clique—a club where the members considered themselves above the laws of society, but were horrendously ridiculed by the outsiders. At the end of the day, he had always been an outsider in these clubs—he did not enjoy being the laughing stock, even if it meant being a member of an elitist group. 

Whatever. So what if you called him a Filmbro? He had only spoken to you once; the opinion of one girl—regardless of how pretty she was—was not of any relevance to him.

But then you sauntered into his store, and suddenly he forgot that he was seething over you for an entire week. 

There you were, footsteps harmonising along the bells of the entrance, and he swerved back to see you. You, in all your frill-skirted, layered-shirted, gum-chewing glory, catching his eye and bringing back the smile which you had offered him the moment you bestowed him that term of little-endearment. 

“Hello again, Mr. Filmbro.”

Don’t be a prick, don’t be a prick, don’t be a prick—

It was fine—it was okay. Vernon was a man now—no longer in his teens. He could have a normal, pleasant conversation. He was mature and able enough to interact with a girl who just happened to disagree with him on certain interests. 

He would be cordial—kind.

“How can I help you, Miss Disney-Hag?”

His skin nearly crawled. I need to kill myself immediately. 

A bit of a low blow from his nickname, but you were laughing, a silly little melody. You must have been crazy, because any other sane, rational human being would have been offended—should have been offended. Vernon fought to keep his face straight. 

“I see you’ve been thinking about me then,” you said. 

That had him looking away, walking behind the counter. “It’s not everyday I get a grown-ass woman asking me about children’s films.”

You mocked a gasp, slapping a hand over your chest. “Ouch. Do you hurt every girl that walks into your filmstore, or is this special treatment reserved for me?

Vernon focused on the cash in the register. “When another girl asks for the special edition for the Cinderella trilogy, then I’ll hurt her just the same.”

You clicked your tongue. “I should have known all men suck in their own ways.” You then approached the counter, propping your elbows atop the surface. “At least show me you’re good at your job and bring me the movie set I ordered.”

At this precise moment, all the thoughts about your stubborn addiction, playful smirk and how terrible the Little Mermaid was had completely vanished.

Shit. 

Maybe his irrational dislike ran further than he thought.

“Yeah…” but then he realised he sounded incredibly suspicious, and cleared his throat, forcing a little assurance in his usual monotone. “Yes! Yeah, of course! The movie set.” He took a step back, nodding his head ever so slowly, as if his head was not churning out a million different plans. “Give me one second…”

“Sure,” you could barely get out before Vernon whirled on his heel, bursting through the backstage door, and into the Chwe flat. 

He did not know whether this was going to work out. 

Like lightning he ascended the stairs, hands brushing against the bannister as he went past his bedroom, door slightly ajar. Not the destination he was seeking, he stopped before the neighbouring door—this one firmly closed. 

The boy made sure to knock first. No answer. Perfect. Slowly turning the knob, he opened the door, peeking around just in case there was someone in the room, and then he would have to resort to more planning. Since the coast was crystal clear, though, he put his mind at ease, only focusing on the main plan.

The room he had entered was a myriad of pop culture references and childhood memories, plastered on the butterfly-covered walls, sitting atop bedside tables or hanging off the hooks. Vernon never realised how invested his sister was with certain TV shows or films till he saw Lindsay Lohan’s mugshot plastered next to her bed. He had asked about it once, but she only waved him off. You wouldn’t understand her impact, she had said to him, and went back to shitting about him to her friends. 

Prying away from the poster, his eyes settled on what he came for, settled in the middle of the huge book shelf.

Sofia prided herself with her book and movie collection, a hereditary trait which Vernon shared: the top and bottom shelves were filled with her all-time favourites, even resorting to furthering her obsessions with the merch related to her treasured characters. He remembered laughing at her ideas until he saw a Barbie FunkoPop figure staring back at him one day. That notion was already horrendous, but the black, soulless eyes had guaranteed its spot in his sleep paralysis the next day.

Thankfully, the little horror was not on show on her bookshelf—this time, right in the middle, was the very prize that he sought. 

The Disney Princess Movie Set—Complete Edition.

Packaged in pink casing, Sofia’s most treasured piece sat, almost with its head held high as the other movies orbited around its pull. As far as Vernon remembered, it held all the Princess movies, and was worth at least 6 hours of his wages.

The boy looked around the room, as if his sister would appear any second.

Then, like a thief in the night (even though it was broad daylight, and would definitely be caught), he swiped the set off the bookshelf, and hurried out of her room.

“Sorry, Sofe,” he could only murmur under his breath as he dashed down the stairs, hoping you had not been bored by his absence, and left him with stolen goods at the scene of the crime.

He opened the door adjacent to the shop, and he almost sighed in relief when you perked up, eyes darting straight to your apparent order. When he saw your face light up like fireworks in the night sky, he titled his head back a bit, stunned by your boisterous reaction.

“You actually bought it!” you exclaimed, drumming your hands against the counter as he set the movies down. “I had a feeling you would blow me off.”

“Business is business,” Vernon said, crossing his arms, “Shit taste in movies will not stop me from making my money.”

You clicked your tongue. “Spoken like a business major.”

“Film major, thank you. I would rather kill myself than submit to the horrors of finance.”

“Don’t die on me just yet.” Bringing out your purse, you fished through its contents, first setting your card on the counter. Then, you brought out a crumpled piece of paper. “I actually have a few more films I want to ask about.”

The boy was expecting another long list of early 2000s rom-coms—perhaps an opinion for every Disney movie ever made in its existence. He swore if he had to hear about Rachel McAdams’ versatility one more time, he might blow his brains out in front of a customer. 

Then you dropped the names, and he had to surge his head forward.

“What are your thoughts on Wolf of Wall Street, American Psycho, Pulp Fiction…Fight Club, Saving Private Ryan, Scarface…” You squinted at the list, finding the names neverending. “Jeez, this list keeps going, huh?” 

He could not help the scoff. “And you called me a Filmbro.” He set his forearms on the counter, locking his hands together. “What do you need these movies for?”

“They’re for my ex-boyfriend.” 

The term had him pausing. Of course—the ex-boyfriend. How has he heard of this man, but not know a thing about him? Shit, he did not even know your name.

“This ex of yours has…an interesting taste,” he said slowly. “What’s he like?”

“I can tell you he attends the same college as you. Well, us,” you clarified, jerking your head towards the college colours of your server’s hoodie. “Film major. Just like you, actually.” 

“Oh?” Small world. “What’s the name?”

“Kim Mingyu. Do you know him?” 

Vernon Chwe nearly shit his oversized jeans.

A hesitant nod of his head. “I have a few classes with him.”

“Oh?” Your stare was a little more intense now. “What do you think of him?”

Right. 

Another fated question—the people around him had to stop asking him such controversial questions, or else he was bound to piss someone off. You were already letting him off the hook too many times; one more judgemental comment, and he was having that Princess movie set smashed on his head.

Kim Mingyu. Fuckass Kim Mingyu. Film major—just like him. One of the most popular boys in the year—very unlike him. All the teachers love his essays, all the girls love his freakishly-perfect six-pack, which Vernon is extremely irritated (and devastatingly intimidated) by. 

What all these people failed to realise, though, was that Mingyu was the biggest piece of shit to grace the halls of his university—and the planet, if dramatics were in order. If you thought that Vernon was a filmbro, then Mingyu was Filmbrother. Filmcomrade. Filmnemesis. 

It was as if you could hear the thoughts churning in his head. “You can be honest, you know. He did dump me at the end of the day.” A smirk began to appear. “Say your worst.”

The reassurance did not help. “I mean,” he started, swiping your card, “He’s okay? I haven’t talked to him enough to have an opinion on him.” 

A half-truth—that should suffice. 

But because the fates like to shit on his head every now and then for kicks, they decided to leave you unsatisfied with his answer. “Or, you can keep lying!” 

Excellent intuition, really. “I’m not!” he exclaimed, slapping the card back on the counter. “I really don’t know much about him.”

The big man upstairs was testing him even further, when, with a determined gaze, you set your elbows atop the surface. You leaned closer, tilting your head to the side as you inspected him, and Vernon blinked back at the sheer lack of space you had created. His mouth twisted, eyes frantically darting at the features of your face, not quite taking in the entirety of your being. Your vision seemed to work perfectly, because it caught the slight flush at the tops of his cheeks, where it was just pale skin seconds before.

Your smirk deepened. “Judging by your blush, you’re either terrible at lying…or,” you offered, voice lowering a little as you drummed your fingers against the counter, “You’ve never had a hot girl this close to you.” 

Fuck everything and everyone, because that only made him blush more furiously. You could not help the chuckle that escaped, deciding to cease torturing him and take your card. “I’ll not say the answer, Mr. Filmbro, but I think you already know.”

Since he had no plans of turning into a human form of a ketchup bottle, he evaded the topic entirely, instead focusing on interrogating you. “You still haven’t told me how Mingyu is related to the movie list you made.”

That seemed to hold your interest. “Oh, of course!” Putting the list back into your bag, you began, “Well, the list holds my ex-boyfriend’s favourite films. I wanted to know your opinion on a few.”

He could not contain his sigh. Oh, he had an opinion on these films that you mentioned. Again, he would rather be buried with his thoughts on the specific genre than ever tell you. The curiosity, though, was eventually going to eat him alive.

So much for minding his business.

“I mean…” he began to think, trying to find the right words. “I don’t mind them? Godfather is a good film, but I’ve seen better from Brando. I like American Psycho, but again, people tend to miss the point of the movie.”

As you nodded, listening to his two-cents on the movies you mentioned, he paused, furrowing his brows. “Why do you care about my opinion?”

You smacked your lips together, folding the list back. “I don’t know much about you, Mr. Filmbro,” you began, “But you don’t run a filmstore without knowing a thing or two about the films you sell.”

“So?” He crossed his arms atop the counter. “Shouldn’t you have asked the guy who you made the list about?”

“Trust me,” you said, your smirk turning more into a rageful flash of teeth, “I know exactly what he thinks of these films.”

Don’t particularly know what to make of that comment. “Well, I don’t know what my opinion for these films is going to help you in any way.”

“It has helped.” You paused then, waiting to see if he would egg you on, asking how his seemingly tame opinions would play into the grand scheme of things. “All part of my master plan.”

Master plan? Vernon may have been interested before, but he was certain that, before, he could have hid it without letting you catch onto it. In a sudden flash, though, as if his mouth was beyond his control, he regrettably slipped out the words which had you smiling more than he would have liked.

“What master plan?”

He almost closed his eyes. Shit. Now I’m fucking invested.

The corners of your mouth, lifting upwards, had him almost nervous. “I was hoping you would say that.” 

Great. Brilliant. Fantastic. Fucking Stupendous. Vernon could not think of other pretentious synonyms. “I will tell you, Mr. Filmbro,” you began, once again settling your locked hands on the counter, “If you help me out with it.” 

That had his eyebrow shooting upwards. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I intended.” A pause. “Look, I know it’s a little crazy…being asked by someone to help in some mysterious plan. But hey!” you added, “You know who the target is, and you know I can be trusted.”

“Calling your ex-boyfriend a target makes this sound like a contract killing. Also, I actually don’t know that,” he corrected, crossing his arms. “The only thing I know about you is your weird obsession with children’s movies.”

“Well, buddy, that’s basically my entire personality, so you don’t need to know any more!”

Vernon sucked in a breath. “I don’t even know your name.”

Your eyes darted to his features, the sharp brows, the speculative eyes, the flared nostrils. His lips, which were twisted in a curious, bemused line. “That’s an easy problem to solve.” You decided to battle his frown with a smile. “_____.”

_____. At least he knew one important thing about you. He swore Mingyu had mentioned your name before, but then he should not also hold certainty—that boy’s favourite subject had always been himself. 

You snapped him out of his thoughts. “This is when you tell me your name now…or do you enjoy being called a filmbro?”

Man…he could not look you in the eye afterwards. “I don’t…” he got out, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “And it’s Vernon. Chwe Vernon.” 

“Vernon,” you repeated, lips curling upwards. “Alright, Vernon, since both of us know each other’s names, you can definitely help me now!” 

The said-boy tried to smile, which was more a grimace. “Well…”

“Tell you what,” you said, trying to find something in your bag. “Wait, give me a second…shit, where is that piece of paper…?” You finally managed to fish a crumpled piece out. “Right!” After catching sight of a pen lying around the counter, you took it and scribbled something quickly, sending it his way.

Taking it, he looked at the messy scribbles—your number. “You’re looking at it as if I passed you a death threat,” you snickered. Vernon gave an uneasy smile. “Just think it over. I need movie expertise, and there’s no one else I know who can help me more than a guy who runs a film store.”

The boy behind the counter listened to you, paper still in hand. Maybe Mingyu made some points breaking up with you—you did not know who Vernon was, save for the name that was tied to him, and the job he was forced to do by his parents. Realistically, he had to decline, because if he has ever learned something in his life—or from watching a myriad of golden age romantic tragedies—is that you never trust the beautiful, crazy girls. 

“Hey,” he heard you say, and he swore your chirp had softened. “I’ll go ahead with my plan in a week’s time. If I don’t hear from you, then I’ll know your answer. You don’t have to tell me now.” When he looked at you, he saw your expression shift. “That’s why I only gave the paper.” 

He supposed he could appreciate this sentiment. “Thanks,” he could only say, pocketing your number. “Is there…anything else you want? Aside from the—” a snide glance at the DVD set—”the movie?” 

“I saw that,” you scoffed, taking hold of the movie set. “And no, I’m alright. I’ll bother you about children’s movies another time.” 

“I’ll make sure these children’s movies are all conveniently sold out when you come,” he countered without thinking. 

You could only shake your head, trying to contain your laugh. “Careful, or I just might bother you after the plan.” 

Vernon did not know what he felt at that notion—would he want that? However, he did not have time to ponder, since you were already heading for the door. As you nearly left the store, bell ringing, he did not hear the door close. He glanced up, catching you looking at him with an indecipherable expression. “Yes?”

You waited a moment before parting your mouth. “I hope to hear from you, Mr. Filmbro.” 

With that, you swiftly exited the store, leaving this Mr. Filmbro even more helpless than he was between the seven days between your first encounter, and now this very second. 

“JO MADE SENSE WITH FRIEDRICH AT THE END. SHE SIMPLY…NEEDED A MAN AFTER PINING FOR LAURIE.”

The professor listened in the small circle, the rest of the students typing or writing down the answer. “Like, realistically,” Mingyu went on, twisting his mechanical pencil between his fingers, “The whole point of the movie is her relationship with Laurie, and that was shattered the moment he married Amy. Friedrich was like…” he pouted in thought, furrowing his brows. “The light at the end of the tunnel…does that make sense, Minghao?”

The said-man nodded. “Interesting take,” he noted, walking closer to the circle he was teaching. “So you agree that Jo needed Friedrich at the end of the film?”

“Absolutely.”

There were a few murmurs around the room, majority of them agreeing with the golden boy who was sitting at the head of the circular, white table. Vernon, who was sat one girl away from him, typed furiously in his laptop, adding to his notes. MINGYU IS A FUCKING IDIOT…CINEMATICALLY ILLITERATE…BORDERLINE MISOGYNIST…Okay, perhaps he was exaggerating on the last one, but his analysis of the question pissed him off. 

Did Jo need Friedrich at the end of the movie? Was what Professor Minghao had asked them about an hour ago. Vernon knew the answer immediately, and, although did not share it with the seminar, was surprised to be disagreed by the majority of the class. Not surprising, however, when his class was filled with men who could not imagine a woman in a film wanting anything else but a man beside her. 

Whatever, he thought, straying from the web page and instead checking the release date for Oppenheimer when he heard your name crop up amongst the discourse in the table. 

“Did _____ actually?” 

“Oh, yeah, said she thought Jo should have been on her own.” A click of tongue. “Not surprising, coming from her.” 

Vernon instantly perked up, fingers pausing on the keyboard. Not surprising? The boy was actually floored at that opinion—and how valid you were for expressing it. 

“I mean,” another girl, right next to him, chimed in, “Didn’t you say she was really stupid, Gyu?”

“God, I don’t know where to begin,” Mingyu said, aghast, and the boy who eavesdropped felt a little dread at every word that escaped his mouth. “Everytime I watched a movie with her she always got bored, or argued with me when I tried to explain shit to her.” 

“I remember we sat with her while we were tryna do our film project last semester,” the boy beside Mingyu recalled. “She had no fucking clue who Martin Scorcese was, man!” 

The group audibly gasped, save for Vernon, who could not help himself, refusing to mind his business. Nasty habit this—he made a note to call you out for this later on, should you walk into his store again. 

Fuck. He did not want that. Of course he did not. He should stop thinking about it too. 

You, that is.

“She’s gotta be the dumbest one yet, Gyu,” the boy snickered, snapping his laptop shut. 

“You don’t even know the half of it,” the dumper groaned, raking through his locks. “You know she was always watching those fucking Disney princess movies?” Vernon’s eyes widened a little. “Man, I remember she wouldn’t get enough of them. Like, what are you, six? Why the fuck am I watching a movie about a midget dragon?”

Then, Mingyu said the words that made the eavesdropper’s spirits shot down. 

“_____ may have been hot, but she was one stupid bitch. Thank god I got rid of her.” 

The others agreed. He may have spoken more on the matter of your lack of media literacy, but the professor was back, and the seminar had quietened, all in focus. 

All except for the boy who had not given his two cents on the matter, frozen solid at the conversation that occurred. What the fuck was that? He had first thought, over and over to the point that he nearly typed it in the seminar document. He had always known Mingyu was an asshole, but what he said about you gave him a very uneasy feeling.  

What sent him over the edge was that a lot of his grievances sounded identical to Vernon’s own words. 

Miss Disney Hag he had called you—to your face he had insulted your taste in films, and you had only laughed. He wondered how you felt when it was Mingyu amplifying those very opinions on a daily basis. 

A frown marred his features. Damn it. He knew he was a loser, but he did not know he was an asshole. Like Mingyu…

Vernon visibly shivered. 

As Minghao voiced out the objectives for the second half of the seminar, the boy brought his hand into his trouser pocket, slipping out the paper. He looked over your number, the messy scribbles dancing in his eyes. Darting to his phone on the table, he held it in his free hand, looking over the contacts. 

“Damn it,” he said under his breath. 

Was he going to regret this? Most probably. Will you probably make him do something that would result in a fatal injury, and land a permanent stain on his social record? One hundred percent. 

If he knew these things already, then what he should have done was toss the paper in the nearest bin. What he did instead, as he typed in some vital information in his phone, was something that changed his life (or at least the life he will live for the next few weeks).

vernon: u dont have to wait till next week 

vernon: ill help u with the plan

There. And now, he shall wait.

Which, he pondered as he saw the immediate response, was not very long. 

normal disney enjoyer: wait who tf is this??

Oops. 

vernon: oh mb this is vernon lmao

vernon: from the filmstore

normal disney enjoyer: oh damn why didn’t u say so !! freaky ass text 

vernon: ??? ive said it now tf

normal disney enjoyer: and im happy u have ;)

Well. Vernon sighed a little, trying to focus back on his work, but to no avail.

Let’s see what you have in store for the next week.

VERNON WAS WONDERING WHETHER HE STILL HAD TIME TO KILL HIMSELF. 

It could be quick—maybe if he jumped in front of the next incoming car, full speed, he might suffer a haemorrhage in his brain, and die bleeding out as his parents took him to the hospital. Of course, that does mean that it would be slow and excruciating, but he thought that nothing would be as painful as whatever you had planned for him.

Come on…maybe it won’t be that bad. Perhaps his thoughts were spiralling too quickly. Perhaps his assumptions of you were a stretch, and that all this anxiousness, pent up in him, would wash away the moment he saw your car pulling up to the store’s driveway.

He felt himself prepare mentally as, eventually, your small, red car slowed in front of him. Right before him, he saw the passenger window roll down, and he caught sight of your smiling face, teeth showing. 

Perhaps it truly would not be as bad as he imagined. 

“Get in loser, we’re going trespassing.”

Nevermind.

“Oh my God,” was the unsatisfying answer to your perfect reference. Seriously, you should not bother saving your precious material on such a lame boy, but there was something so exciting about his eyes sharply rolling, colour staining the tops of his cheeks. “I’m not doing this if you’re going to quote terrible movies the entire night.”

“First of all, fuck you. Mean Girls birthed half of your customers.” You flicked the lock on the passenger door, pushing it open. “Second, you don’t have a choice. You’ve agreed to ruin Mingyu’s life.”

“First of all yourself, I did not agree to that.” Begrudgingly, he settled shotgun, snapping the car door shut. “Second, Mean Girls was a waste of Rachel McAdams’ talent.” 

You scoffed, starting the car. “I don’t take opinions from men who can’t drive.” 

This shut the boy up nicely, clamping his lips together in quiet shame. He wished he could argue with that—you, he feared, had a good point. Despite that, it was not his fault that his parents insisted on the reliance of public transport; the bus was his greatest villain—aside from the middle school kids in his store that always ask for the next FIFA game. 

You could not help taking a second glance at him, chuckling at his defeat. “Don’t be sad, Mr. FIlmbro,” you reassured him, changing gears. “I like my men a little pathetic.” 

That did not help at all—his eyes widened, gawking at you, but you were already looking ahead, pressing your foot on the accelerator. 

“Jesus!” he exclaimed as he held onto his seat, taken aback by your sudden rush of speed. “I thought you wanted to kill Mingyu, not yourself!”

“My bad,” you only said, turning right. “I’m just so excited! You know, getting there.” 

“I can see that,” he mumbled, looking away from you into the back. Strapped in with the seatbelt, bizarrely, was Sofia’s Disney Princess Set, as if the dozen-movie box was a toddler in need of extra assistance. What the fuck…?

“I’m having these films in pristine condition, Vernon,” you explained, though it still made no sense in his head. “You understand, don’t you?”

Of course not. “Sure.” 

He waited for further explanation, which, as the silence continued, you decided to throw him the conversational bone. “I don’t just carry the set around with me, you know.”

Sure. “Of course not.” 

“It’s relevant to today’s plan,” was all you would offer, speeding more to reach the destination quicker. Vernon held onto the belt a little tighter, still eyeing the movie set rather suspiciously before focusing back on the road. 

The drive was not long—perhaps thirty minutes at most—but he knew he was leaving the rougher parts of the city when nicer neighbourhoods welcomed his vision, the litter on the roads disappearing, instead trees in an orderly line painting the sides of the pavement. The further you drove into these suburbs, the more he was surprised at the sheer luxury of the exterior of these houses; granted, he did not originate from poverty, but his idea of a holiday was three days in the comforts of his bed, bingeing the Miyazaki collection with a lifetime supply of mint chocolate chip ice cream on his lap. 

Vernon had to save his mouth dropping to the seat of the car floor when they rolled into the Kim household’s drive. 

He was aware that Mingyu derived from wealth—the former could not help noticing his pricey, flashy brands every time the taller boy sauntered into the Film Sound classes, but he did not expect this Bridgerton-ass looking house, nestled in between the other million-dollar homes in the neighbourhood. He was greeted with a clearer picture the closer you parked in their drive, surprisingly empty; it was around that moment that you noticed that all the lights were turned off in the house, almost a haunting image. 

The boy was on his way to make a comment about your terrible spying skills when you rebuffed him immediately, saying, “I know what you’re thinking. I have it covered.”

“Please tell me, Miss Bond, how are you planning to carry this out?”

You offered him an incredulous look. “I don’t know what that reference means, I’m too pretty.”

His answer to that was a thin, long line of his mouth. You chose to ignore it completely. “Mingyu’s parents are out of town right now, and his sister’s on a ski-trip in Austria.”

A glance of confusion. “In the middle of March?” 

A shrug. “You know what rich people are like.” Weirdly enough, he knew exactly what you were talking about. “But it worked out great for us.” With a hard exhale you got out of the car, the boy beside you reflecting your actions. “All the easier for what we have to do.” You opened the car door behind the driver’s one, unstrapping the seatbelt and carefully bringing out the movie set. 

“How’re we getting into the evil lair, then?” he asked dryly, crossing both his arms. “I assume the millionaires don’t happen to put a spare key under the carpet?”

“Imagine,” you said, sighing melodramatically. “I tried making them do it so I could sneak into his house, but for some reason, Mingyu never agreed to it.” 

“I wonder why,” he muttered.

“Worry not, young grasshopper!” You strolled to the very right of the house, where a thin wooden door was almost hidden from view. “Where there is a door closed, another is mysteriously open.” 

With a hard push, the door trudged back, swinging heavily away. He stared at it, not quite believing how someone can be so careless to keep their gates unlocked. “Another weakness of Mingyu’s—” You pointed at the cleared path into the house—”whenever he leaves from the garden, he never locks the gate.”

Vernon could not quite believe it. “Either the wealthy are incredibly secured in their safety, or stupid as fuck.”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you joked, going further into the journey, ushering him over. Like a siren calling his name, he followed you, unaware of the shit you might be getting him into. 

Into the fancy garden they arrived, clean-cut hedges bordering in dozens of flower bushes, peppered also with a few fruit trees—berries of every kind ripening on the green. While Vernon admired the natural luxury, you hurried to the nearby shed, where a ladder was situated right beside it. “Quick, help me out here!” you shouted in a whisper, ushering him over. Dropping the DVD set for a moment, you grunted as you held the large ladder up with his assistance, slowly making its way to the brick wall of the house. “Wait, line it up against that window over there,” you instructed, jerking your head towards the far right window, no doubt on the second floor. Once the ladder was lined up properly, you moved the boy out of the way, shaking the rails to make sure it stayed put. 

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Vernon muttered, watching you take the Disney Princess set in one hand, the other making the first step on the calendar. “We can still…you know, not commit breaking and entering.” 

“You can happily leave, Mr. Filmbro,” you offered, looking up at your destination. 

That had him scoffing. “My ass is not walking two hours back to my house.” 

“That seems more like a you problem then!” you chirped. “Now are you following me up, or pussying out?”

Once again, pussying out seemed like the obvious choice for the boy. He was not made for missions such as these—he was merely meant to watch other people act out said missions in front of his television. Unfortunately, because he was too far away from the film store, it was either sitting it out, waiting for you to come out and do something diabolical, or at least watch over you should you cross a line (if the latter were the case, then Vernon had already failed). 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he kept uttering like a mantra, waiting for you to climb up enough to hold onto the ladder as he began to follow after you. He made the mistake of looking up as you climbed up, and he got a full, HD view of your ass. He tried his very best to look away out of some semblance of respect, but you also made the mindful decision of wearing the shortest skirt known to man. His fuck, fuck fucks! rang louder, causing you to shush him.

“Stop freaking out, my guy!” you called out, right on the top of the ladder. “I know my ass is crazy built but this is not the time.”

“That’s not why I’m freaking out, _____!” he countered, but knowing you, you did not care for his explanations. He only waited as you pushed open the slight-open window, all the way to the top before climbing inside.

As he reached the top of the ladder, he watched you dust yourself before glancing back at him, ushering him inside. “Here goes nothing,” he said to himself, hands on the top of the window ledge as he put his foot on the sill, pushing himself inside. 

Vernon dropped into the unknown room, an oof! leaving his mouth as he landed rather ungraciously on his feet. Quickly, he looked up, surroundings rather dimmed due to the lack of lighting. Still, with the help of the moonlight, he could slowly make out the huge smart TV in the middle of the bedroom, beneath it a wide shelf filled with DVDs, some opened and scattered on the carpeted floor. The bed was on the opposite side, right next to the window the two of you had entered in, black and gold sheets tousled and unmade.

As you turned the light on, the boy then made out that Mingyu, in fact, did not have a bed frame, but just a mattress, with the sheets barely done properly.  The wall on his left was a full black-shutter closet, where he could see the collection of his designer clothing behind the gaps. Posters were plastered on the rest of the walls, most of them being the Tarantino classics —a reclined, raven-bobbed Uma Thurman watching him with bedroom eyes being the most prominent—with certain papers of autographs also stuck next to the posters. There was another poster—American Beauty and the girl surrounded with rose petals—which had him quickly looking away.

“Jesus,” was all he could say, but he supposed he should not have judged. He himself had only his posters in his room—except he did not have the same taste as a middle-aged incel.

“I know.” You looked around at the familiar space, and the memories you had made here. “Imagine having sex in this hellsite.”

Then the image of you having sex with Mingyu on that messy bed came into his mind, and Vernon could have combusted then and there. “I can’t imagine,” he mumbled out, walking to the door, opening to make sure no one was inside. “_____, are you sure no one’s here?”

“Swear on my life, Mr. Filmbro.”

He had to trust you now—or you had very little respect for your life. 

He kept eyeing the DVD set you had in your hand. “Are you still not gonna tell me what we’re doing with that?”

You marched over to the shelf beneath the TV, settling yourself down. “Come here and I’ll show you.” You patted the empty carpet space next to you for added emphasis.

Hesitantly, he obliged, sitting cross-legged next to you. Finger pointing as it scoured the shelf, you carefully brought out one of the films from Mingyu’s selection, all the while sliding out a Disney film from your own set. “Now, tell me,” you began, as you showed him the two movies. “Do you think The Dark Knight and Mulan are a good match?”

First pulling a face at the choice, he then resorted to keeping his twist of features as he turned to you. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“So like, you know Mulan is a woman disguising herself as a soldier in order to defeat the Huns and save her father’s honour, right,” you explained, though you had a small feeling he was not particularly listening. “And Batman is the same thing, except he dresses up as a fucking bat…stupid furry.”

Vernon could not understand how you compared one of the most beautiful, nuanced depictions of a broken, three-dimensional superhero into a furry, but he needed to get to the bottom of your plan, once and for all. “No, I mean, what are you doing? Why the hell are we here?” 

You tutted extra loud. “I’m gonna swap the CDs, dumbass!” You held up the princess movie. “Thought Mingyu could say to me that Disney princess movies sucked, huh?” Then, the classic DVD’s turn to rise. “Let’s see how he’ll like watching a talking dragon in China instead of a talking bat in Fantasyland!” 

The boy could only watch, shock growing with the successful swap of the movies, the secret Mulan CD safely tucked into the The Dark Knight’s DVD case. “It’s Gotham, actually,” he murmured, but he knew you were not listening. “Wait, _____, we really just snuck into your ex’s house to swap a few movies?”

You looked up briefly as you began opening another DVD case. “I mean, if you want to trash the place, that’s fine, but you can’t do anymore than what Mingyu’s dirty ass hasn’t done already.”

Fair point. “I think you’re going insane. Like, clinically.” He kept looking at the door, which was closed shut. “He’ll kill us if he catches us.” 

“Forget about us, you’re barely doing anything!” you exclaimed, tossing some of Mingyu’s movies to him. “Can you actually help me instead of complaining?”

What he should have done was argue with you properly, perhaps even make his escape and leave you to dig your own grave. Sure, he could not drive, but was it not just three pedals, a wheel and a dream? He could have left, never to see you again. 

But then his eyes wandered to the Inception DVD scattered beside you, no doubt collateral damage as you took out the other Nolan films, and saw a Disney Princess movie sitting beside it. Sleeping Beauty, it read out, with the picture of some skinny blonde chick slumbering with a man overlooking her. He thought it a bit strange, almost creepy how this brunette was watching her. 

And then an idea came into his head. 

He closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, clamping his lips together. Please forgive me, Mr. Nolan, for what I’m about to do. 

Hand reaching out to grasp both DVDs, he opened one of his favourites, unclipping the CD. You glanced at him, swapping the movies around. You could not help your stare lingering a little, watching his lips pout, brows furrowed as he fixed the new CD in the Nolan set, as if the task was a serious one. Well, it was a serious task for you, but you expected more complaining. 

When he looked up, he managed to catch a small smile on your lips before he quickly looked away. “And now you’re slacking,” he accused, closing the DVD and setting it atop the newly improved. 

“What’s the plot for Inception?” you asked him, cracking open The Princess and The Frog. 

“I thought you knew, since you laughed at me for saying it was my favourite.” 

“I don’t know the full thing,” you admitted. “The only reason I knew about it was because Mingyu never shut up about it…sorry about that, by the way.” 

Vernon sighed. “It’s fine…if I made fun of your Disney favourites, then bullying me for Nolan isn’t the worst…I think.” He looked at your new suggestion before picking out Alien from Mingyu’s selection. “A thief has to implant an idea into this powerful guy’s mind, and he does this through infiltrating other people’s dreams. However, he has to be asleep while he does it.” 

As you began to laugh, he threw you an irritated look. You shook your head, unable to erase your smile. “That’s a really good match.” 

His eyes widened for a moment, mouth parting. For a moment (and he did not know whether he was going to regret making this assertion), he did not care for Christopher Nolan’s disrespect, after seeing your reaction.

With that, the two of you sat in near silence, the crisp opening and closing of the DVDs, the sliding of the discs being the only sound between the two of you. The Princess of the Frog was successfully matched with the Alien—you, unsurprisingly, had not watched the movie, but Vernon had watched both (one against his will, which you could guess), and thought it the best match. Brave was slotted into The Revenant's case, while Beauty and the Beast went straight into Pan’s Labyrinth’s. 

“Okay so…” the boy held up the Pocahontas CD. “Native American princess falls for the coloniser? How the fuck are you defending this?”

You could only offer a sheepish smile. “The soundtrack is really good?”

“Knowing Disney,” he crowed, cracking open the DVD, “They probably have a song on how terrible the poor Natives are.”

You eyed him, surprised. “How the hell did you guess that?”

First, Vernon made a face, as if he himself could not believe his excellent intuition. Then, he only laughed a little, taking out the Dances with Wolves DVD from the shelf. “I’ve watched enough Disney movies with my sister to know how they work.”

“Oh, so you have watched them?” you mused, watching him exchange the discs. “All that time I thought you only watched what Mingyu watched.”

“No, I watch foreign indie films like an asshole,” he clarified, shutting the cases, and putting Dances with Wolves back on the shelf. “The thing is, I still have my grievances against the super popular films. You know the list you mentioned to me the other day?” You nodded. “Most of these film junkies get off on those movies. I’ll admit I like them, but I’ve seen so much better.” 

You snorted. “Like Inception?” Vernon watched you for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. “What? You asked him, tilting your head. 

He followed your movement—he too, craned his head, his brown curls cascading along his forehead. “Like Inception…and better.”

“Better?” you gasped out, fingers rising to your bottom lip in shock. “Does Mr. Filmbro prefer a movie over Nolan’s grand—no, best release ever?!”

“Ha, ha,” he monotoned, only adding to your amusement. “It’s still his best film! But,” he added, shrugging a little, “I may or may not have lied to you the first time we met. Inception’s not my favourite movie.”

“What?!” you could barely contain your grin. “Oh my God, if I find out it’s a fucking Disney movie, I’m never letting you live it down!”

“Let’s not go that far,” he jeered, earning a harsh nudge of your elbow. “Hey! You should be thanking me for my honesty.”

“How about you extend that honesty and tell me which movie is your favourite?” 

Vernon mocked a ponder. “It’s a hard pass.” 

“Come on!” you pressed, scooting a little closer, almost reaching out as if to nudge him some more. “You’ve already committed a felony with me. Telling me your favourite movie is naturally the next step.” 

“Because that’s obviously how normal human interaction goes,” he countered, sarcasm clear in his voice.

“Tell me.” 

“No.”

“Tell me!” 

“Hmm…no!” he repeated, assembling the last of the DVDs. “Maybe if we raid Mingyu’s house next time.”

“Oh?” Leaning closer, you paused his hands on the movie sets. “Do you want there to be a next time?”

It was then Vernon realised the implications of your question, a consequence of his own suggestion. It was almost comical, how his eyes widened like full moons, and he immediately shook his head. “Now you know that’s not what I meant.” 

“Then what did you mean?” you asked him, and the way he exposed a slight stutter at your question had you laughing. “Would you want to see me again?”

What Vernon wanted to tell you was no, no, no, because another second with you would end with all the blood in his system rushing to his head, and other places. Damn everything and everyone, he would want to see you again—no. No. He wouldn’t. He would not. 

“You haven’t answered the question,” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

The boy was about to stutter out an answer when the two of you heard a door slam downstairs. 

You whirled back, eyes instantly darting to the door. They then focused back on you, widened very much like his not long ago. “_____,” Vernon muttered. 

“Mr. Filmbro…”

The furrow of his brow appeared for a split-second before it disappeared at the shuffling underneath. “What the fuck do we do?” he gulped out, looking around to find anywhere to escape from. This was it—he thought he was getting away with trespassing just because you had convinced him to, but that fuckass ex-boyfriend was going to catch them in his bedroom, two inches away from kissing you, and—

“Wait,” you then said, catching his wrist in your hand. He barely had time to react to it before you shot up from your seated position, hauling the boy along with you. He stumbled, but then you nearly made him fall flat on his face as you ran to the shutter closets, sliding them straight open. The inside was a mess of branded clothing and boxes of sports equipment, but there was one opening with just enough for two people in trouble to hide. 

You first went in, and, with a harsh tug, pulled him in with you. He crashed into you, but you had enough control to slide the shutter door shut. There was so much commotion that when you both finally stilled, breathing harshly as you heard Mingyu enter the room, Vernon blinked back to see your face about two inches away from him. 

He was going to yelp—strong on going to, because you sensed his incoming shock, and smacked your hand against his mouth. His eyebrows could have touched the top of his forehead, but what you noticed the most was the warmth of his skin, burning the longer your touch lingered on his lips. 

The smile you offered him as you put a finger to your lips had him almost passing out. 

“Yeah, man, come round whenever,” was all Vernon could hear, still not comprehending Mingyu’s speech due to your hand. “No, Minseo’s not here, what the fuck? Why do you wanna know where my sister is?” 

Slowly, ever so carefully as not to alert him, you pulled down on one of the blinds of the shutter, spying the movie which he was about to see. Vernon should have been following your movements, but he could only sense you, inching closer and closer to him till you were pressed against him. Of course, you were only trying to better your vision of your ex-boyfriend, but the boy beside you could not focus. The hand on his mouth—God—he needed, so badly, to be put down. Your fingers were soft, and although his lips could not help brushing against your palm, everything in him resisted the urge to react.

Quickly glancing at your accomplice in glee, you dropped your hand from his mouth, silently urging him to watch. He could have rebelled against your pulling away, but he instead obliged. Bringing his face next to yours, he glanced at you one last time before peering at the vision that welcomed. 

There he was, the golden boy, raking his hair as he strolled into the middle of the room, observing the TV before him, and the DVD player sitting at the bottom. He kept humming, as if agreeing with whoever was on the phone. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go to that party later…no, I’m not bringing _____! You know about that already!” 

The boy in hiding quickly snuck a peek at you, who soured a little at the mention. “Hmm? Yeah, whatever. What? Nah, I’m just gonna watch a chill movie before leaving.” Mingyu scanned the films on his shelf. Walking over, he leaned down, sliding out The Shape of Water from his collection, cradling his phone between his shoulder blade and his craned head as he opened the DVD. 

Vernon could not help pulling a face at Mingyu’s choice of a ‘chill movie’ being a film about a mute woman wanting to fuck a water creature. You probably did not understand the reference, but by the growing anticipation on your face, you only cared about the scene you two had created, and was about to unfold just then. 

Mingyu slid the CD into the player, pressing play as he made his way to his frameless bed, settling down in the sheets. “Yeah…no, no, it’s just starting.”

The two of you could hear clearly the opening credits, which began with the most obnoxious opening music of Disney’s intro. Vernon was taken aback by how Mingyu did not realise it from that very moment, but considering he was too busy chatting pure shit on the phone, laughing to himself, the boy assumed he was simply waiting for the action to occur.

“Any minute now, Mr. Filmbro,” you whispered, oh-so-fucking close to him. He did not respond, merely a nod.

Craning his head to see through the shutters, he noticed the animation come to life, the ship within dangerous waters sailing with uncertainty. He snuck a quick glance at Mingyu’s face, which started garnering a little confusion. 

“Are these extra credit scenes? I don’t remember any of this,” he heard the OG filmbro complain. 

You could not help the snort that escaped you. Vernon glared at you, but with little effect. “What?” you whispered. “I don’t remember him being this thick.” 

“What the fuck is this cartoon…” the two of you heard Mingyu pipe up. Finally, the buffoon is realising this is not the two-time Oscar winning animation, but the four-time Oscar winning CGI. “This wasn’t in the director’s cut.”

You still could not believe how your ex-boyfriend was taking this long for the realisation to hit. Even when Eric jumped up on the screen, holding onto the ship’s ropes, the watcher only regarded the character intently, as if he was somehow part of the stranger film. 

Only when, fifteen minutes in, Atlantis is finally introduced that something clicked in his brain. Mingyu tilted his head, thinking out loud. “What the fuck…?”

Getting up from where he sat, he ended the call, informing whoever was on the other side that he would meet later. He took out the CD from the player, examining its exterior. “Can’t see shit on this CD…” He was not wrong—you were smart, choosing the discs which did not have any images, confusing the boy all the more. “Maybe I put in the wrong one…”

He shrugged it off, taking out The Dark Knight instead, another easy, breezy movie to watch when The Shape of Water did not pull through. Now Nolan was a hard one to criticise—Vernon himself was a huge fan, but seeing Mingyu try to watch it irked him. A good thing, then, was it not, that he was bound for a second surprise?

Repeating the routine, he slid the secret CD, settling back into his frameless bed. “Great minds, huh?” you whispered to him, and Vernon only rolled his eyes, not enjoying the dig against him in the slightest. 

“You dated him,” he griped, watching the movie start up.

“Waste of good looks,” you whispered, your partner-in-crime nodding in agreement. The movie beginning had you both falling silent as a bird of prey hits on one of the soldier’s heads. The scene is set in the cold mountains of China, but the sole audience does not catch it immediately. 

“So fucking weird…” Mingyu trailed off again, leaning forwards. “This isn’t the robbery scene…”

Of course it was not—the idiot would not witness one of the best film openings in Vernon’s humble opinion. He would not feast his eyes to the workings of Joker’s bank robbery, nor the cold one-liners from the incapacitated bank manager. 

No, what he was served was the Huns crossing the Northern border, which, as the boy finally began to clock after a good ten minutes, was not what he was expecting.

“What the…” once again, he heaved himself up, walking over to the player. “Now I know something’s wrong…”

Both you and Vernon stretched further close, as much as the closet would allow, to peek at Mingyu’s frustration as he brought the CD out once more, examining the back and front. He then took out some more of his favourites, opening their cases and taking out the CDs, observing them closely. He was suspicious now. How could he not be, when he was expecting incel excellence, but was greeted with the same shit his younger sister—his crazy ex-girlfriend, even—would usually watch.

He blinked back. 

His deathly stillness had the two trespassers pausing. You two looked at each other, faces losing any humour, perhaps recognising that he had clocked on. You watched the scene as Mingyu rapidly added one CD after another, expecting one movie only to have a Disney-fied replacement, completely botching his plans. Every movie that received such Disneyfication further enraged him, the grit in his teeth heard, the tick in his jaw visible. 

The final straw was when the Godfather was slotted in, his all-time, unmatched favourite. There was darkness for the first few minutes, and he sighed too quickly in relief, about to lay back on his mattress. 

Then, a curly-haired girl, a toddler at best, in huge green glasses becomes visible, being told to open her eyes. 

“Is this where magic comes from?”

“What the fuck?!”

And as a conversation between the little girl and her elderly grandmother blossomed, there was a specific dialogue which sent the young boy over the edge.

“This candle became a magical flame that would never grow out…and it blessed us with a refuge in which to live…a place of wonder…An Encanto.”

You nearly burst out laughing. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, could have seen red. 

“Who fucked with my CDs?!” he demanded to no one in particular, though in his mind he knew there was a culprit. “My fucking CDs, man!” 

“Did you do the Godfather swap?” you whispered, barely able to contain yourself.

“Two special families with one heir that doesn’t feel connected to their lifestyle.” Vernon grinned at you, impressed with himself. “It was too easy.”

“Where did you even find the Encanto DVD? It wasn’t in our set.” 

“I found it in his little filmbro shelf.” He ticked his head towards the boy in physical agony. “My guess is that his sister is a Disney fan and left it in his mancave.”

“Oh my God,” you got out, watching the melodramatic scene of your dear ex show rage akin to a teenage boy losing Call of Duty online. 

“That fucking bitch,” he guttered, over and over again as he threw the Encanto CD across the room. Those words came out, and the boy behind the shutters stiffened. Okay—there is rage, and then there is straight up promise of violence. Vernon may not be much of a knight, but if they were caught, he knew he would have to protect you.

He hoped to everything that existed that it would not have to come to that—Vernon would rather fake having a heart attack and have you drag his body out of the Kim Manor. 

It seemed as that might have been a real possibility, until the boy called out a threat to a name they were not expecting.

“Minseo, I’m gonna kill you!” Mingyu roared as he stormed out of the room, undoubtedly on his way to destroy her room, even take his anger out on her Jellycat collection.

As you heard his frenzy disappear down the halls, the trespassers took this as the opportunity to escape the closet, Vernon already creating a little distance in case you come too close and cause his passing out.

“We need to get out now,” he declared as you crept out of the wardrobe, his head whipping to the door which Mingyu left from. 

You nodded, not quite looking at him as you dashed straight for the final DVD. “Oh, Jesus,” He groaned, watching you scramble for the movie, trying horrifically to hide it within your clothes. “You do realise he can come in any second!” 

“Okay, okay,” you said, hurrying over to the window. “Wait, you can go first.”

Vernon raised a brow, following after you. “How come you don’t want to go first?”

You only ushered him further, grinning. “You can peek at my ass again.”

“My eyes will be closed,” he sniped, already carrying it out, trying his absolute best not to imagine your ass in his mind—maybe stakeouts for goofy purposes were not for the weak-willed. “You know, just for that alone, you’re going down first.” 

“Whatever suits you, Mr. Filmbro,” you almost chanted, aggravating him all the more as you stepped out of the window, beginning the trek down. 

He looked down as you descended with one film in hand, still stealing glances at the only door in the room, terrified that the boy would burst through the door, see you both and bring about his downfall. Subconsciously, his fingers hovered just before his mouth, biting the skin around his nails. He knew he should have run himself over with an oncoming vehicle. A messy plan, but still fool-proof. 

“Stop panicking and come down here!” your voice snapped him out of his anxious frenzy. “I know you’re biting your nails off right now!”

The boy instantly repelled his hand, instead furrowing his brow. A little irritating—scary, as well, really—how predictable he was in your eyes. How quickly you had figured him out.

“Alright,” he said, absent-mindedly as he reached for the windowsill. He peaked down again, not realising how far down the descent truly was. Rationally, he knew it was not the worst drop he’d seen on the first floor, but the nerves had started affecting his mind. Now, this entire time he was watching you take one step, two steps down, but he did not have the strength to follow you. 

Still, he knew it was now or never.

Vernon was going to be at your heels (or, more anatomically correct, at your head) when he heard a shuffle from behind him.

He whipped his head around, anticipating the worst.

The worst arrived in all his golden-skinned, empty-headed glory. Holding one of his DVDs, Kim Mingyu stood at the doorway, his eyes widening with every second they beheld the intruder, one leg out of the house, the other a moment away from heaving him up.

Oh. Jesus. Christ.

“The nerd from film theory?”

Vernon’s face dropped. 

The Nerd from Film Theory? The Nerd from fucking Film Theory? 

It was then and there, in that exact moment of time, that the filmbro in question did not give a single care for what the popular boy thought of him. Vernon knew everything about this boy (whether he wanted to or not); his every class, his every terrible friend, even his film preferences, thanks to yours truly. Yet Mingyu did not even know his name—did not even bother to remember.

It was because of that that he managed to garner some essence of his bravado, finally settling both feet on the ladder steps. 

He also decided to add in some corrections to Mingyu’s knowledge. 

“Jo March did not need any man after Laurie…in fact, she did not need any male support, asshole.”

For added effect, he raised his middle finger, as if the burn was sick enough to hurt. 

Mingyu’s devastating response was a confused tilt of his head, clearly not understanding his reference. 

It was enough time for Vernon to hurry his descent down, catching the former more off guard. 

“What the fuck—” was all the boy heard before he quickly tried to travel downwards, feet nearly slipping on the steps by his sheer carelessness. Mingyu’s head popped out from the window, and saw the great ladder leaning against the sill, shocked gaze lowering to where Vernon was descending to.

When his eyes found yours, he could have choked on his gulp. Even more so when you smirked at him.

“_____?”

As Vernon finally dropped off the ladder, dusting himself off, he watched the two of you, staring each other down. When he gauged Mingyu’s fear of you, there was a small part of him that was filled with admiration.

Mingyu’s demand sounded more like a whimper. “What are you doing here?”

You only curled your lips further upwards, grinning like a wild animal. It chilled your ex-boyfriend to the bone when you held the Tangled CD up for him to see, with your other hand raising your middle finger. 

“This is for calling me a stupid bitch.”

His mouth dropped open. That gave you just enough time to grab onto Vernon’s hand, enveloping your fingers around his wrist. 

And run for your life.

Vernon let out a yelp as he was yanked forward by your hold, barely hearing Mingyu’s loud curses and retreating back into the house, no doubt to follow after you two—the trespasser could only guess, much too occupied by your hand, a guiding beacon of mischief, never absent in his life as you ran and ran and ran out of the garden, out of the sleek maze which you two first entered, catching sight of the open garden gate.

The boy heard distant footsteps coming from the house, and as you both saw your car parked beyond the greater gates, you fished out your keys, finally letting go of his hand to dash over to the driver’s side, jamming the key in the lock. Vernon let out a startled noise as the car unlocked, wasting no time to jump inside, heart beating loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear. Mingyu appeared at the main doorstep at the exact same time, even more shocked to realise he had not noticed his ex-girlfriend’s car casually parked before him. 

Just as you climbed inside, swivelling the keys into ignition, Mingyu began to run after the car, a mere ten seconds between him and catching you two.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, _____, just start it already!” the nervous boy in shotgun begged, his head swivelling back at every chance, heart lurching at every metre closer the filmnemesis crept.

The car revved to life at your signal.

It was time to get the fuck out of here. 

“GO, GO, GO!” Vernon screamed at the top of his voice, fisting the handle at the roof of the car as you slammed on the accelerator, racing out of the driveway with Mingyu’s bellowing following after you. Of course, since he was a mere, enraged college student, and you both were in a (slight) state-of-the-art vehicle, you zoomed out of the neighbourhood, his curses fading with every turn further out, you managing to escape. 

Vernon, because he had never done such a thing before, was still screaming to leave for the next ten minutes until you had had enough, swerving to the side of the road, not far from his DVD store. You almost crashed into the nearby park, frightening a few birds that expected peace within the sidewalk trees, only to be disturbed by a troublesome ex and a film-obsessed loser. 

You gushed out an exhale, fingers gripping tightly to the wheel, almost as stunned as the boy beside you, who seemed to take in the town’s worth of air in his little body. But then, you realised the gravity of the situation, the sole movie at the back which could not be swapped, and the valiant escape from something you never thought you would come out of alive.

Just then, you burst into laughter. 

The boy whirled his head to you, who could not stop the tumbles of laughter that escaped your mouth, hanging on to the car wheel as you cackled and cackled like the Wicked Witch of the West. Well, that was what you thought you sounded at that time, but you, as always, did not care.

Only that you were wrong—at least in Vernon’s eyes. You were wrong, because if you were laughing like some Disney villain, then he would have been more pissed off—enraged even. He was instead in awe, shocked at the raw guffawing that spluttered out of you without shame. Had the two of you not evaded a great danger? Nearly been arrested for your legally ambiguous behaviour? 

For the first time in his life, he was not embroiled with dread. 

There was no anxiety in his body, no essence of panic at the consequences of your actions. No, he could only stare at you and your mirth, and find himself raising his brows, the beginnings of a scoffed laugh creeping from his lips. 

The more he looked at you, the more his own laughter joined yours. 

And then you were both laughing, giggling beyond control at the narrow escape, and the near crash against some tree. Vernon knew how stupid this whole situation was, but strangely, he did not seem to care—not when you did not see it like that. A very odd prospect. 

After a few minutes, when it finally seemed as if you would settle down, you sighed, leaning back into the driver’s seat. “We should do that again.”

Despite the amusement lingering, he immediately shut the idea down. “Not a chance.”

You admired the ancient lining of the tree’s bark in front of the car. “The way you were laughing with me just now, you’d think you want to commit crimes from now on.” 

A dramatic roll of eyes. “I’m not going to jail. They don’t even have a TV there.”

“You and your fuck ass movie collection…”

That brought out another chuckle from the boy—you smiled at the notion. He then looked at the rearview mirror, where the last movie was splayed, all alone and away from the others. “Kind of a shame we missed out on one last movie.”

“Right?” You followed his line of sight. “Fuck, Tangled of all movies?”

“Wait, isn’t that the one with Rapunzel?” 

You let out an impressed hum. “A week of seeing my face, and you’re already catching on!” A mischievous raise of brows. “Another month with me and you can sing all the tracks from the film.”

“You really shouldn’t have this much faith in me, _____,” he said, shaking his head. “Plus, this might be the one movie I didn’t watch with Sofe.” He saw you perk up at the new name. “My sister. She’s the one who forced me to watch all those Disney films years ago.”

“I like her already,” you mused, a finger on your chin. You paused for a bit, looking down at your shoes, settled lightly upon the pedals. Then, you started the engine once more.  “So…Tangled is the only one you haven’t watched, huh.” 

A glance at you. “Yep.” 

You looked back, hoping to reverse away from the tree. “Right…” You checked your watch, the car slowly moving out of the pavement. “Interesting…super duper interesting.”

It was something insane, fantastical the way Vernon’s nerves seemed to hum at the implications. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“What? I just said that it’s interesting you’ve never watched Tangled…”

The boy scoffed, crossing his arms. “This is where you’re gonna force me to watch the stupid movie.” 

But then he caught the look of surprise on your face, as if you had been caught. “Oh, Jesus, you’re not gonna let me out the car, are you?”

“No, no!” you countered at once, raising your hands. “Well, yes as in I was hoping you would watch the movie with me, and no, I won’t force you.” You sighed a little, fingers back on the wheel. “You’ve already done so much today. If you want to go home, I’ll drive you straight there.”

He watched your expression, the prepared acceptance, the anticipation—the sliver of hope, hiding itself amongst the flurry of other emotions. In all honesty, he was tired; the entirety of this evening had exhausted his social battery (which he doubted he had to begin with) and he still had some sound image work left back at the college studio. If it was any other person asking, he would have happily bunked them off—pretended that he had suddenly developed a terminal illness in the span of minutes, and begged them to drive him back home to ‘live out the rest of his days’.

You, on the other hand, were a problem. He could not let you down—not anymore. Not after today.

When he let out a soft sigh, you were anticipating the worst. Then, he revealed the answer. 

“Let’s watch a fucking Disney Princess movie.”

VERNON DID NOT WANT TO WATCH A FUCKING DISNEY PRINCESS MOVIE. 

The moment you opened the door to your house—a shabby, student house about twenty minutes from campus—stepping inside, he realised there was no way back, and that he had to humour your wish, or else lose respect in your eyes. 

As you brought him down the small hallway, leading into the little living room, you quickly grabbed the takeout boxes of your flatmates, murmuring hurried apologies as you left the room. The boy looked around, the slight cracks of the blue walls, the 32” TV sitting at the opposite end of the fraying couches. Posters of Bridget Jones, Notting Hill, and other Hugh Grant movies were plastered on one end of the wall, while Vernon nearly had a jumpscare when he caught a life-size cardboard cutout of some Disney hero—this one unrecognisable. 

“That’s the love of my life you’re staring at,” came the voice behind him, and he whirled to see you, a huge bowl of popcorn cradled in your hands. “Why’re you standing in the middle like an idiot? Sit, sit!” Vernon obliged, making to settle on the sofas when you tutted. “Are you mental? No, sit on the bean bags near the TV!” 

How stupid of me to assume I could sit on furniture designed for sitting, he meant to crow, but the moment he settled on the bean bags, he instantly preferred their malleable comfort. When he let out a relaxed sigh, you huffed out a laugh, propping the bowl before him. “See?” 

“I was gonna say…” Vernon trailed off, watching you press a few buttons on the DVD player. “Where’s the CD?”

“Already in,” you said, picking up the remote as you settled in the beanbag next to him, scooting closer. Catching a look at his face, you bellowed, “Yes, Mr. Filmbro, I watched it recently!”

“How recently are we saying?”

“...yesterday evening.” 

“And this is the masterpiece you wanna show me,” Vernon murmured, sneaking a look back at the cardboard cutout. “Don’t tell me he’s the floozy that’s leading the film.” 

You turned the TV on. “Fine. I won’t tell you.”

He then looked at you. “Oh, Jesus.”

“Trust me!” you then reasoned, putting a hand on the boy’s knee—the mere touch had his brain rewiring, nerves all ceasing to work on the one point where your touch remained. You really had to stop—first your hand was on his mouth in that damned (blessed) closet, and now this soft reminder. He tried his best not to fix his eyes on your lingering fingers as you carried on, “This film is a modern classic. I promise.” 

Well shit, he thought. When you looked at him like that, you could have convinced him that Quentin Tarantino was a better foot fetishiser than a filmmaker. 

“Okay,” he said, almost believing in your words. 

With that, the landing page for the movie turned on, and there were the main characters; he assumed the chick with the long, blonde hair was Rapunzel, and the man behind her—which, Vernon thought, did not deserve to be celebrated as a life-sized cardboard cutout—was the love interest. Whatever. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” he mumbled as you pressed the fated Play, anticipating the worst. 

And as the two of you fell silent, Vernon still holding out on the popcorn, watching suspiciously at the screen, the voice of a man flooded the TV speaker.

“This…this is the story of how I died.” 

The boy immediately reacted, face dropping. “The fuck?” he got out, catching the WANTED! Poster of the very man he bad-mouthed not two minutes ago. 

“But don’t worry, this is actually a fun story…and the truth is…it isn’t even mine.” 

“Wait, this dude is already dead?” he asked.

“Just watch the movie!” you answered impatiently, making the boy sigh and lean back into the bean bag.

“This is the story of a girl named Rapunzel. And it starts…with the sun.”

You wanted to keep your eyes rooted to the screen, watch the unfurling of Mother Gothel’s backstory, but that was precisely when the incessant complaining began. 

“Now why are we already getting context of some random witch’s actions? Less telling, more showing, man!” Vernon kept his arms crossed, shaking his head at the TV. “Oh, great, poor little king and queen in their big ass castle!” 

“Having basic sympathy will take you great places, my guy,” you merely said, scoffing down the popcorn in the bowl. “Their kid just got stolen by some crazy bitch.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, piping down once more when the flashbacks ceased, and the present day was introduced into the story. On the screen, a small, green chameleon entered, camouflaging himself behind a pot of flowers. He guessed that the chick with the long hair—Rapunzel—would be finding him, and, lo and behold, he was right. In all fairness, though, it did not take a film degree to work that out.

He also did not need a film degree to guess that a musical number was about to be introduced, not even ten minutes into the movie. That he worked out all by himself, when the guitar riffs sounded. Beside him, you instantly brightened, smile widening as TANGLED morphed on the screen, the song about to begin. 

It was around that point when, as he spared you a glance, he realised you were about to sing along.

“Oh, Jesus—”

If his life was a romantic film, this would have been the perfect setup; the girl that made his heart flutter was seated dangerously close to him, bean bags already touching with shoulders barely following, watching the cheesiest animated movie. He could have seen the shot now, with his gaze turning rose-y as you would open your mouth and sing along to the song. Of course, you would sing beautifully, better than the original singer, and he would sit there, absolutely mesmerised. 

Oh, he was stunned alright. 

“SEVEN AM THE USUAL MORNING, LINE UP—!”

The boy flinched at the sheer volume of your chant—screech would be the better word for it, for he guessed singing was not one of your natural talents. 

You could not see his judgement at all, eyes closed and clutching your fists to your chest, continuing the song. “START ON THE FLOOR AND SWEEP TILL THE FLOOR’S ALL CLEEEEEANNNN—!”

A scoff escaped him, not quite believing the scene before him. He was shocked to silence, the movie’s music now in his background, the forefront being your attempt to outsing the princess. Either no one had told you how horrendous your singing was, or you simply did not care for the opinions of others. A part of him hoped that it was the latter—for you to be so comfortable in singing away, despite what others thought, made his judgement disappear. 

Shamelessly you sang the entire number, up to the point where the scene cuts and the supposedly hot love interest—whose name was Flynn Rider, apparently, which he should have known if he just read the poster at the start of the movie like a normal viewer—was now trying to steal the crown jewels. 

Vernon was too busy thinking about how stupid ‘Flynn Rider’ was as a name to realise that another song had just started. Immediately you changed your tune, your tone lowering, almost sultry. 

This time, you looked at him when you started singing. 

“Look at you, as fragile as a flower…”

“Ayo?” A glance at the TV screen, where Mother Gothel was now singing. “Another song?”

But you did not answer his question, only singing further as you reached your hand out to him. “Still a little sapling, just a sprout!” You continued, and, at that, your hand patted his mess of curls atop his head, mirroring Mother Gothel’s actions. 

Blinking back repeatedly, he could not even shrug it off, stunned once again by how you were casually able to touch him and not feel anything—while his entire system shuts down like a lagging desktop when it tries to run the Sims. 

The overdramatic flair was present in your singing, changed from the sweetness of the previous song. It was crazy how you remembered each word, not slipping at any chorus—you were a true fan, a committed admirer of the film. Even he could not comprehend knowing every single line of his favourites. 

It was admirable indeed—to love a film as you did this one.

It was what made Vernon smile a little, turning away from your melodrama and focusing on the screen, where Mother Gothel now threatened to never be asked to leave the tower. Again.

This time, he would give the movie a chance. Thank God he decided to wake up.

The movie picked up the pace instantly—he had not expected Flynn to meet—and be whacked out by Rapunzel’s frying pan—so quickly, and had reflected her dejection when the mother screamed at her. He could tell where this was going, especially with the thief now in the closet, but he found himself grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl without turning away from the screen.

By the time the third song of the movie came around, he was taken aback that it arrived further in, surrounded by the thugs of the Snuggly Duckling. Without realising, he turned to you, anticipating you breaking out into a song, but you were merely watching the movie, bobbing your head along to the beat.

Noticing his stare, you glanced at him. “Expecting a show?”

“Since you were giving them out without request, I figured this time would be like any other.”

You snorted, grabbing the popcorn. “I’m saving my heavenly voice for the best song, actually.”

Vernon mocked a gasp. “So you’re telling me Mother Knows Best isn’t the best feature?”

“Don’t chat shit, Mr. Filmbro, because Mother Knows Best is one of the top five.”

“I look forward to seeing which song you’re holding out for,” he only said, turning back to the movie again. The popcorn ran out about this time, and you shot up from your bean bag, promising more as you exited the room, leaving him to continue. 

By the time you returned, the protagonists were escaping, chaos ensuing all around them with the guards, his partners and that eccentric white horse chasing them. Ending up in the cave, they recognise a lack of way out, and although Vernon was aware that the movie ends on the happiest note, a small part of him filled with dread. 

That dread disappeared instantly when Flynn confessed his little secret.

“Eugene Fitzherbert?!” The boy demanded.

You chuckled at his disdain. “Yeah, Flynn Rider was hotter. Eugene Fitzherbert ages him about forty years.”

“Flynn Rider was silly, but Eugene is straight up diabolical.” 

“He is still fuckable regardless!” you shushed him, raising your pointer at him. “You wish you had his sex appeal.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, let me just change my name to Bartholomew Whiteman real quick.”

“Hey!” you whacked him on the arm, this time laughing heartily at his quip. “Let my man live!”

He decided to spare your fictional man any more bullying, taking in the town atmosphere where the two adventurers and Maximus had now ended up. “Ooooo, the castle dances are my favourite scenes!” you gushed, scooping popcorn in one hand and eating with the other. “Wait, look, look at the braid!”

“Jeez, I’m looking!” he insisted, watching the girls braid Rapunzel’s hair. Flynn—which Vernon is continuing to identify him as, because Eugene was too much for him—stared at her longingly at the results. Vernon used the popcorn as an excuse to gaze at you matching Flynn’s longing at the screen. Your head rested on your knees, locking your hands in front of them, forming a lazy smile. This smile remained throughout Rapunzel and Eugene’s activities, even to the point when the couple were settled in a boat, waiting for the lights. 

“It’s happening,” you declared, the smile widening as you released your legs from your hands. “Oh my God, it’s fucking happening!”

Raising the volume, the boy watched the screen, where thousands of lanterns were sparking alight at the king and queen’s signal. The lanterns’ lights broke across the borders of the town, melting into the sea, the docked ships. Rapunzel had not noticed though, too busy dropping flower heads upon the water’s surface, Flynn helpfully holding out the bunch. 

As the princess dropped another upon the waterbed, she finally noticed the beginning.

It was then Vernon heard your favourite Disney song.

“All those days, watching from the window…All those years, outside looking in…” 

You followed this time, not as loud as the other songs, quiet and soft, as if letting the blonde shine in her song. “All that time, never even knowing, just how blind I’ve been…”” 

You exhibited the same excitement as Rapunzel, who, noticing the lanterns, threw off Flynn’s balance, hanging onto the curling bow of the boat.

The boy, however, was not really focused on the screen.

Because the music that surrounded the two crept into his ears, playing the strings of his senses; because the lights were off save for the TV, shining its dimmed lighting upon your face, making you glow with the dark purples, blues, golds of the Tangled scenery. He lost all interest in everything because you were looking something out of a daydream, watching the events of the movie as if they were scenes of salvation. The two of you were definitely not on any kind of boat, merely sitting on bean bags. Despite all of that, he began to float—swaying from where he sat, as if he was truly settled on water. 

“Now I’m here—” You put your hand to your chest— “Blinking in the starlight…now I’m here, suddenly I see…”

You kept singing the lyrics, voice more subdued than your last outbursts, and Vernon could only watch you, the pure love of this song radiating off your very pores. Vernon’s anticipation rose with every octave of the singer’s voice rising, eyes never leaving your face, the parted mouth. 

“Standing here, it’s oh! so clear…!”

As the viewers themselves were about to observe the thousands of lanterns Rapunzel witnessed, Vernon himself waiting, he made the mistake of averting his gaze from you, if only to see the grand reveal.

It was what made you unconsciously envelop your fingers with his, clasping his hand with yours.

He whipped his head to yours, eyes widening to the point of spilling. 

You were already looking at him. 

When you sang the next lyrics, Vernon could have melted molten.

“I’m where I’m meant to be!” 

And as the lanterns surrounded the protagonists, lighting up the entirety of the night, you sang the chorus to the boy in your little college flat, no one to witness it but two of you.

“And at last I see the light! And it’s like the fog has lifted!” 

Your voice was hoarse now, all the screech-singing catching up to you. Vernon, in another lifetime, would have instantly resisted, ran for the hills if it was literally anyone else in the room but you.

“And at last I see the light! And it’s like the sky…is new…” 

But it was you—you holding his hand tightly, you looking at him with the light of the lanterns in your eyes, you opening up to him in your little haven, away from anyone else. Granted, you could have offered this performance to anyone, but he liked to think—shit, he was truly hoping—that you would not have done this for anyone else. 

You would have only sang your favourite song to him. 

“And it’s warm, and real, and bright! And the world has somehow…shifted…”

Vernon watched you halt a moment, waiting for the next verse, your hand tightening in his. 

“All at once…everything looks different…”

You were right—the world had shifted underneath him, stilled under the dimmed lighting of this dingy living room. The two of you now faced each other, music still tuning from the TV, but the characters long forgotten, as if they never existed. Yes, you were right in that everything looked different, seemed different, as if he was seeing you for the very first time. 

“Now that I…see you.”

Shit. You were rather beautiful before him.

You paused then, watching his reaction. You tilted your head, thoroughly amused by the sheer awe that radiated from his face, but then you noticed his chest rise and fall, more unevenly the longer you observed him. 

The next detail you caught was how his eyes darted down—down to your lips.

It was the lips, which were watched so intently, that parted.

You attempted at a little humour. “Out of all my talents, I guess singing isn’t one of them.”

But Vernon did not respond with words. Sure, he would have agreed with you, but singing was irrelevant now. Out of all these infinite talents you possessed—your natural charm, your ease in making him laugh, your trespassing and eventual escaping of such crimes—Vernon could not have given less of a shit about singing. Not when you were before him, bathed in an unnatural, extraordinary light, soft music playing in the background. Almost as if he had adorned the rose-tinted glasses, courtesy of the universe.

In any romantic comedy, he would have kissed her.

The boy was not known to be courageous—anything but brave. Real Life, Not Clickbait Vernon would have left by now. The Real Vernon should have pussied out. 

You, however, looked a little too beautiful to be treated with cowardice. 

“Are you going to kiss me, Mr. Filmbro, or are you gonna make me wait till the end of the movie?”

He parted his mouth for a split second, gob-smacked at your question. The twinkle in your gaze, though, had him spluttering out a harsh chuckle, craning his head down at the sheer absurdity of it all. But then he looked up, smiling, not quite believing what he was about to do.

“I should make you wait.”

That was what he said. What Vernon instead did was finally grow the two balls that were supposed to be hidden in his pants, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. 

Now the boy always wondered whether the movies were right—when mouths would touch, move against each other, whether a fire would ignite between souls, whether one really felt as if they were not of this world.

It seemed like Hallmark-level bullshit to him, but the moment his lips touched yours, he began to float out of this room. A soft hum reverated from you, approval at his actions, and he could have burst as he felt you smile against him. 

Maybe Disney was right. God, he really did not want to be in such accord with that stupid corporation, but they were onto something with the fireworks, the orchestral singing when couples kiss. He himself felt a choir-like chant all around him as he brought his hand to your face, angling it slightly so he could gain better access, boost your pleasure as he delved slightly deeper.

He was unstoppable. He was alive and ecstatic and delirious, opening his mouth wider, his other hand now finding your waist, snuffing out any distance between you two. It was not like he was a pro in these situations—he had only ever had one serious girlfriend, and that was at an age where a boy could get away with merely ‘french-kissing’ (as the kids back then would have gloated) your significant other. Again, he may have fooled around a little in college, too, but never had he experienced this haze of lust, this newfound desire. 

This desire enhanced further when you slipped your tongue from the seams, sliding it along his as an invitation for more, and he could have honestly thanked that heinous hag Walt Disney for making movies you adored so much, to the point of showing him and landing him in this situation. Of course he indulged you, opening his mouth enough to let you inside. The sensation of your tongue slipping past his lips had a soft noise releasing from his throat. 

Tangled was all but forgotten, the two of you too occupied being entangled with each other. You pulled him even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers brushing against the ends of his hair. The soft touches had every strand of his locks standing on edge, a wave of delight washing over him. 

You were sagged into the bean bag, Vernon’s weight upon you sinking you further, but you did not mind it—relished it, his scent engulfing you, the sighs and soft murmurs of his every exhale haunting your eardrums. Who would have thought that a boy who could recite every Joker quote from The Dark Knight—Virgin Supremism you termed the talent—had this kind of game hidden underneath? How was he able to ignite such powerful emotions from you?

How was Vernon ‘Filmbro’ Chwe able to make you feel so good you did not realise Tangled finishing right before you?

The two of you could have spent all night intertwined in each other, perhaps would have gone past the boundaries of mere making out. However, between the haze of his soft whispers to you, your own mist swimming in your head, you heard the starting music of the DVD reverting to the home page, and like instinct you opened your eyes, finding that the movie had ended.

You must have paused, because Vernon immediately stopped, concern staining his pretty features. His knitted brow, eyes laced with nervousness, shamed you for ever stopping. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“Oh, no, no!” You felt like a fool for the answer you attempted to give him. “It’s just, um…”

He followed your line of sight, turning around. Once he realised, he looked back at you, you surprised to find a little shock replacing his concern. “We were going for that long?”

Your smirk had his stomach knotting. “This is what happens when you make out with someone you like, Mr. Filmbro.” 

He could not respond, looking away as his flushed face managed to redden some more. You only laughed at him, playing with the hem of his shirt, his arms still steady as they caged you. “You are so lucky, you know.”

He quirked a brow. “And why is that?” 

“I would never miss the second half of Tangled for a man.”

It was so incredibly stupid, how he felt a semblance of pride at the notion.“Happy to know I’m an exception.”

“You do know I’m gonna make you watch it again so you can say you’ve watched it.”

Vernon tilted his head to the side, lost in thought. You watched him, anticipating. “This is the part where you say you’d rather Mingyu jump you than rewatch Tangled.” 

“Well yes, but…” He glanced over his shoulder, where your shelf of DVDs were stacked, a particular movie which had caught his eye previously now standing out all the more. “I, uh…” 

He looked back at you, and the self-conscious glint in his gaze had you watching his every movement. “I was hoping to show you my favourite movie instead.”

You were ready to make a comment on how you prided on avoiding Nolan films like the plague, but then you remembered the conversation at Mingyu’s house. Your eyebrows could have touched your hairline. “You said I could never know.”

“Well…” a small smile escaped him, slowly pulling himself away. “If I am to be your exception, _____, then I suppose you can be mine.”

Gaping at him, you could only keep silent as he, with great effort on his part, heaved off you, making his way to the shelf. He was lucky, you thought—had he been a moment slower, that comment alone would have had you kissing him again. 

What quickly caught your attention was him sliding his pointer finger through your collection, a series of your favourites. The anticipation was rising, you not quite believing that Mr. Filmbro’s favourite film was within your arsenal. Weeks ago, you would have bullied him relentlessly for the ironic hypocrisy.

When he pulled out the fated DVD, you let out the greatest laugh.

The boy instantly frowned, but you did not realise, cackling and cackling away at the selection, the final boss of Vernon’s favourite film, nestled between his fingers. “Shut up,” he mumbled, but again, you did not hear him, lost in the shrill sound of your laughter, erupting the room to life. 

“Oh, Jesus—” Your chortling did not seem to stop, almost to the point of hiccups. “Your ass…this entire time—!”

“And suddenly I’m leaving!” Vernon announced, getting up and about to drop the DVD. 

He did not last long in his determination when you grabbed onto the end of his shirt, grinning still. “Thank God you’re not a Nolan kiss-ass…that’s all I’m saying.”

All he could do was stand like an idiot, the tips of your fingers caressing the skin just above his trousers. “But I am a Nolan kiss-ass,” he murmured, crossing his arms. 

“That’s what I thought, too, but this film—” you jerked your head towards the prize in his hand. “You’ve redeemed yourself.”

“Stop it,” he only said, crouching down to pull out the Tangled CD, replacing it with the new, and, in his opinion, improved movie. “This is why I didn’t want to tell anyone.”

“And nobody will know,” you assured him, watching the movie’s main menu pop up, the PLAY option highlighted. “This’ll be our secret.”

“First the trespassing,” Vernon began, sitting down beside you, “Then the tampering of movies, and now this.” He grabbed the remote, about to play the movie. “How much more are we gonna sneak around?”

You looked at him, and the smile you offered him had him glancing away—only for a second. “Have you not had fun, though? Sneaking around with me?”

Normally, in a situation where he had zero balls, he would have evaded such a question, not fanned the flames of your fire. But tonight he had watched a Disney movie with you, felt your fingers caressing his skin, had even kissed you in the purple hues of Tangled’s light. Tonight, he could conquer the world.

What would answering a heated question do any harm?

Vernon locked eyes with you then, trying to fight his smile. “I think I could have fun with you anywhere…in secret or for anyone to see.”

As something in your gaze shifted, he turned the film on (an entendre which was completely intentional). 

Once again, the two of you were in the same position, watching yet another film, this time another’s all time favourite. The narrator began in a strange, European accent, explaining the tale of an unfortunate princess, much like Rapunzel, and her dire situation. 

Although it was undoubtedly his most treasured film, the boy had a very hard time paying attention when all he could feel was that penetrating stare of yours, capable of revealing his very soul from beneath his measly shirt. Even when the stranger main character was introduced, following his main routine in his strangest abode, Vernon was not particularly concentrating anymore.

Not when he heard your voice, a soft question amongst the gaudy music of the 2000s. “Do you mean that, Vernon?”

And perhaps it was because you said his actual name, especially when your voice sounded like…like that. Like something from a perfect movie soundtrack, akin to the end-credits of an unforgettable TV show. 

Because he was too occupied with simply admiring you, he merely nodded, biting the inside of his cheek.

And because you were too busy admiring him, his words, the entire night where you had felt pure, euphoric joy, you did Mr. Filmbro a little dirty by making a decision that negated his film.

You shifted closer once more, hands reaching out to hold his face. 

This time, Vernon was prepared when you kissed him.

There was a certain eagerness in your lips this time which was newer—more enjoyable to his senses. It made sense now, why all these couples in movies made out for hours and hours on end. He felt as if he could kiss you forever, move against your mouth, delve inside until his tongue memorised your very imprint. 

You moaned a little louder this time, and the very sound had his heartbeat racing, moreso when, as he pressed you against him, shifting upon his beanbag, he knew then and there that something in the air shifted.

Last time, you had stopped. This time, there was no such indication—the very thought had him skirting his hands around you, holding you tight enough to never let go.

Still—even with such possibilities, there was no way you and him would escalate to the point of losing his virginity.

Whatever happens though, he will still watch the end of his favourite film. 

Whatever happens, Vernon would not be having sex with you if Shrek was playing in the background.

VERNON LOST HIS VIRGINITY WITH SHREK PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND.

Certainly not his greatest achievements, considering he could not focus on his favourite movie, but it was certainly not his fault. You were—to put it quite plainly—hot as fuck.

He did not leave until the very next day because—as he had stated that night—he still wanted you to watch Shrek, and did, somehow, end up watching it properly. You did not stop teasing him, and he did not stop shutting you up by kissing you senseless. 

Unfortunately, the boy did have college the next day, so he had to leave at some point, but not without promises of meeting you again. This time, however, you two did not continue the crimes he committed with you. You and Vernon were not modern-day Joker and Harley Quinn.

When the two of you were not terrorising Mingyu’s livelihood, you decided to hang out at the filmstore, where it all began. Vernon would host weekly movie nights, and both of you would eat popcorn and watch each other’s recommendations, scoring them differently in accordance to what was most important for each other.

For the film majoring student, the rating was influenced not only by the actors’ performances, but also from the intricate storyline, the character developments, their relationships. A story, for him at least, was about relationships. Good cinema was about the chemistry between two actors, the emotional connection they had not just with each other, but also their effect on the audience. The actual editing of the film, too, was another bullet point in his criteria.

Your rating, on the other hand, differed slightly. 

“Michelle Yeoh is such a MILF,” was your only comment upon finishing Everything Everywhere All at Once. 

This comment nearly made Vernon lose his mind. “One of the greatest movies of this decade, and this is your only input?”

“But am I wrong, though?”

Vernon sighed a little at that—at the end of the day, you were absolutely in the right. There was a reason Crazy Rich Asians went platinum in his dingy little room. 

Of course, it was not just his personal recommendations that played. You had compiled a list of your all-time favourites, going beyond Disney’s borders, and Vernon was introduced to the dashing timeless genre of the rom-com. Now having a younger sister who (he thought) was a basic bitch meant he did possess some knowledge of the genre, but he had never really sat down and watched a rom-com without falling asleep in Sofia’s bed. 

For you, though, he braved the most famous romances, which he found himself enjoying more than he would have liked—more so when he found one of his favoured actors in 10 Things I Hate About You.

“Heath Ledger singing was something I never thought I needed,” Vernon commented as the ferocious couple finally kissed. 

“And this is the same fella who was the Joker in your little Nolan film,” you reminded him, as if he was not aware already. “Oh, and he was the gay cowboy in that movie.”

“Gay cowboy?” His confusion lasted for approximately thirty seconds before he groaned, pushing you over on your beanbag. “My god, are you talking about Brokeback Mountain?”

“Yes, that one!” you exclaimed, picking up the TV remote. “My guy has range, but him as a high schooler is still my favourite role.”

“You do realise how bad that sounds, right?”

“You know what I mean,” you said, waving him off as you began searching for the next movie. “Now, Two Weeks’ Notice or The Proposal?”

Vernon endeavoured to weigh in on the options. “Which one do you think I’d like?”

“Well, both have Sandra Bullock in them…”

He looked over both DVDs. “Now that’s a white woman I can get behind.” 

You scooched a little over to him, locking your hands together. “We can watch something you like…” When he knitted his brows together, not quite answering you, you went on, almost unable to look him in the eye. “You’ve been super nice, you know…sitting through all my favourites.” 

The boy could not help it, unable to let a smirk slip. “Is this _____ appreciating me for once?” The beginnings of his shit-eating attitude did not develop, since your smack on his arm completely snuffed it out. “Ow, damn!”

“You deserved that,” you muttered, beginning to scoot away until Vernon’s hand on your wrist stopped you. 

When you focused your gaze at him, he already beat you to it. “Let’s watch both today.” 

It was silly, how that made your heart beat faster. “Really? You would watch two rom-coms in a row?”

As his hand pulled you closer, his stare had you almost—almost—nervous. “I’ve done worse for you.”

“Very true,” you said, absent-minded, more lost in the twinkle of his eyes. “Very, uh…good point.”

Vernon thanked all the higher bodies that may have existed for the pure, unadulterated rizz he was attempting to spew. “I’m full of good points,” he crowed. “Now, are you going to stare at me all night, or are we going to watch Sandra Bullock?”

Although your cheeks burned, you pushed him off, earning a chuckle from him. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mr. Filmbro. The only man I’ll be staring at will be Ryan Reynolds in The Proposal.”

All of the boy’s suave attitude dissipated at his shock. “The Deadpool guy?!”

“Ryan Reynolds did have range before,” you explained, shaking your head. “Then the superhero bug bit him.”

“What a shame,” he only said, as if Vernon did not follow the Deadpool universe to the point of possessing special editioned comics in his room. Still, he happily slotted the CD inside the player, and excused himself to make more popcorn for the two of you.

As the boy prepared snacks, glancing back every time at the opening scene, he managed to sneak a look at you, eagerly watching the screen. 

He could only smile, putting all the popcorn in the huge bowl before hurrying back to you. 

THIS WAS PROBABLY THE FIRST TIME YOU WORE A SUIT TO A CINEMA. PERHAPS THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME YOU WORE A SUIT AT ALL.

Admittedly, it was not as if you had intended to go into the cinema in formal attire—or, at least the only formal clothing you had. Your first plan was to steal something from your father’s wardrobe, but when you tried it on, it did not fit properly, and you refused to look like an idiot in public.

Not that you cared much about looking like an idiot in public before, but there was another person to look out for. And that person, although had already done embarrassing enough actions for you, did not want to push it further. One more ceremonious act of humiliation, and Vernon would have run a thousand miles from you—or that was what you thought. 

You observed your cinema fit one last time before your bathroom mirror, fixing the lapels for the nth time. Your rented three-piece suit was almost a second skin, waistcoat snug underneath the tweed jacket, matching coloured trousers adorned alongside. You borrowed some Oxford brogues from a friend, which made you realise that you had more posh friends than you knew. You tried to find a hat similar to the one Cillian Murphy wore in the promotions, but because you did not have the wardrobe of a middle aged man, you resorted to let your head rest. 

All of this elaborate planning to see Nolan’s (apparently) greatest release yet—Oppenheimer. 

Because the cinema was not far away from you, you decided to walk, messaging your date to let him know that you were on your way. You were certain he was already there in the cinema; Vernon, since you had started hanging out more with him, had only ever talked about Nolan’s upcoming epic. You swore if you recited the IMDB plot out to him during sex, he would have spunked within minutes (a mental note to experiment on that later). His excitement had you booking midnight release tickets, which consequently made him so happy you thought you had invited Nolan to the town cinema. 

The night, furthering along, had beautified the black sky, stars twinkling on your journey. The consistent vibrations from your phone indicated the boy’s imminent excitement, and you smiled, double-checking your formal attire once more. You would have romanticised the nighttime further but living in student area brought you right back to fearing slightly for your life, so you quickened your step, cinema already a close speck in the distance. 

You knew you were nearer to the destination when the flocks of pink and black grew, the cowboy hats and fake pipes all piling up in your vision. Seeing the pink reminded you of Barbie’s influence, also being released tonight alongside the more serious counterpart. 

A small part of you really wanted to see the midnight release for the new movie. The original plan most people were following was either to watch Oppenheimer and then Barbie, or the other way around. You were so close to procuring tickets for the latter, but decided that it was important to accompany Vernon to the seemingly bigger release. After all, you were never as excited about films as the dear film major you had rather grown to like.

Another vibration of your phone, and you finally decided to stop ignoring said-film major and text him, possibly informing you of his arrival.

mr. filmbro: yo where u at

mr. filmbro: they’re too many pink mfs out here im getting suffocated

You rolled your eyes.

_____: im coming to save u kitten.

mr. filmbro: :0

Once you were inside, it was a complete sea of pink and black and grey. Two sides, which one would assume would be opposing, were all celebrating, sharing their drinks, anticipating when the theatre doors would open to let everyone in. Within this myriad of fans, you tried to search for the most mentally ill one—the one who you were certain had a finer three-piece set than you, who would have happily stolen Cillian Murphy’s set clothes to truly honour the movie. 

Strangely enough, after a few minutes, you could not find him, even after confirming your seats. You searched for anyone wearing anything devoid of colour, but did not find the boy. This time, you decided to bother him, calling him and pressing the phone to your ear. 

“Where are you, kitten?” you purposely growled, lowering your voice an octave. “Daddy’s waiting.”

“Kitten actually killed himself after hearing that,” was his purposeful monotone. 

“Can you resurrect yourself for me real quick? I’m tryna find where you are.” 

“I’m next to the Oppenheimer popup.” Immediately you tried to find it, scouring through the crowds. “I figured you’d find me easier.”

Scoffing, you ignored the Barbie stalls, walking further ahead. “How very smart of you to wear Oppenheimer clothing while standing next to it. So much easier to find you, isn’t it?”

He did not retort back, instead inciting your excitement. “Wait, I think I can see you…?”

Your eyes darted over to the fresh faces of the Nolan fans, all taking pictures of the cast pop-ups. What you were observing were the men and women, all lack of colour. 

What your gaze ended up on was someone completely different. 

What you were expecting was a mini-Oppenheimer, the too-large blazer, the sashed hat upon pretty brown curls. What you received instead was a boy engulfed in all the pinks of the colour wheel.

Pink was the colour of his top, bubblegum pink the colour of the stringy fur coat sporting over said shirt. Magenta was the colour of his flared trousers, whilst rose was the colour of his converse. What topped off the entire look was the hot pink cowboy hat, sitting perfectly upon his wavy locks, completing his fit—a fit which was perfect for the Barbie movie. 

It was around that point that he caught on to your stare—through the oceans of opposing fans, he, too, finally found you.

Vernon heard your curse murmur through the phone. “Oh my fucking God.”

That was when his own gaze roamed over you, shocked and shameless amongst the crowds. Not that the crowds mattered, not anymore. He was a little nervous, he had to admit it to himself, only because there were so many people, and they were only watching for the fad, for the trend. A part of him wanted just you and him in this midnight cinema, the biggest official date yet. 

But then seeing you here, in all your black-clad, Oppenheimered glory, had stunned him to his core. Although he had specifically brought you here to watch the movie, he had completely expected you to arrive in the pinkmania fit. Because you had kindly booked tickets for his anticipated film, he thought at least to participate in the Barbie craze fit.

It was like instinct, how his steps gravitated towards you, his phone still pressed against his ear, very much like you. You followed him slowly, hearing his ragged breaths through the speaker, watching him walk closer and closer until you both were a mere couple of feet away.

Only then did you drop the call, your hands at your sides as you admired him. It was a while before any of you spoke. 

Like always, you spoke first. “Tell me the fur coat is yours.”

A ghost of a smirk. “Sofia’s.”

“Stealing’s like second nature to you now, isn’t it?” you taunted. 

Like always, he dodged your taunts. “I thought you were gonna wear all pink.”

“I thought you were gonna wear all black.”

He tilted his head. “Well, I thought since we were watching both movies…”

Your confusion was clear, the corner of his lips curling further up. “Wasn’t Oppenheimer first?”

He then went inside his flared trouser pockets, fishing out two tickets—its colours matching his outfit. “I know how much you wanted to see Margot Robbie be silly.” 

“I did!” you exclaimed, taking the tickets from him, admiring how pretty they were designed, especially when compared to the Oppenheimer marketing tickets. In your admiration, though, you noticed a detail which had your excitement faltering. “Wait, are you sure? It says the movie’s at the same time.”

Vernon then checked the timings, mouth parting. “Oh shit. Didn’t think about that.” He shook his head, mouth straightening in a line, dejected. “This is what happens when I try to do something romantic.”

“I have to give points for effort,” you offered, bringing your hands to his wrist. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s watch Oppenheimer, honestly. Cillian Murphy is still hot when he’s old.”

“No, no,” he countered, clasping your hands on his wrist. “It’s chill.” He glanced down. “Let’s do Barbie first.”

You attempted to argue him on this, but he simply let go of your hands, with his one hand wrapping around your waist, and the other hand’s wrist being checked for the time. You bit back a smile at his mere actions, relishing his fingers skirting under the suit, the waistcoat. “Vernon,” you attempted. 

“_____,” he said back, staring at you with an awe that you would have deserved had you worn a couture gown, not some rented hand-me-downs. 

You knew he would not take no for an answer now. “But what about Oppenheimer?” you asked anyway as the two of you made your way to the cinema. 

Vernon only pretended to think extremely deeply of the situation, making you elbow him playfully. “Now tell me, Dear Disney Hag, how did we enter Mingyu’s house?”

“Why, we walked straight in!” you answered like an over-enthusiastic student, in which he sarcastically clapped for you. 

“Right on.” As you both walked towards the Barbie theatre, the opposing movie was being screened right beside you, where people were bursting in. “See how everyone is walking in right now?” He gave you a knowing glance. 

That knowing glance had you scoffing in excited disbelief. “My God! Look at you, all ready to commit crimes!” you looped a hand around his arm. “I have taught you well, young man.”

He patted your arm. “Mr. Filmbro has come a long way from chatting shit about your movie taste.”

“So you admit it?” you leaned in. “Disney makes better movies than your flop directors?”

“That’s a completely different claim,” he clarified. “My taste in films is objectively better.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact you're watching the Barbie movie before Oppenheimer.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging you closer. “That’s ‘cause I like you a lot, Disney Hag…”

You did not stop your smile from lighting up your entire face. “You’re not the most insufferable filmbro I’ve dated I guess…”

”I better be the last filmbro you date,” he muttered, watching over the last of the crowds, where they now stood, waiting to enter the theatre.

The longer you waited to answer him, the more incredulous his face became, brows knotted in disbelief. You only chuckled, leaning in and pressing your lips upon his. Of course, he was taken aback, but surprises like these were pleasant, welcomed with open arms as Vernon closed his eyes, pulling you in. 

The moment the line started quickening you broke away, only to make sure no one skipped in front of you and him, and thus deal with yours and his passive aggression. You could not help the giggle that escaped you at breaking away from his lips, relishing in his dazed state. 

Honestly—you truly would not have minded being anywhere with him.

When it was finally your turn to go inside the Barbie screening, you held tightly to his hand. “Let’s go, Mr. Filmbro.”

Vernon only smiled. “Right behind you, _____.”

And as the two of you entered the theatre, hand-in-hand, the boy learned that perhaps he, too, would have gone anywhere with you. 

[thyandrawrites]

Had a sudden realization

They're both theater kids

[papercorgiworld]

Listening in and panicking

Mattheo, any Tom, Enzo, Theo, Blaise and Draco

Your boyfriend overhears you say something that makes him believe he’s not the one you planned to be with and panics, with each having their own dramatic reaction.

Thanks for the request! Usually it’s the reader that overhear something, so it was fun to focus on the guys overhearing something, misunderstanding it and panicking about it. I actually almost had this finished last weekend but Draco was being difficult and it took me another week to finish this! So I’m happy it’s here! Sending you all a lot of love and kisses. Happy readings!

Mattheo

That the quidditch game hadn’t gone well was a light way of putting it and Mattheo really needed you to brush through his hair so his muscles would instantly relax. For the past few hours Mattheo had been contemplating whether or not to crash your girls' night. He knew he could be demanding and didn’t want to be the asshole boyfriend who ruined this for you. He was especially afraid of your judgy friends who probably didn’t hold Mattheo in a high regard as a boyfriend. However, he was damn near losing it when he heard the Weasley’s fireworks. “They won a game. Not the cup.” He hissed, throwing away his cigarette and surrendering to the desire to be with you.

He could hear the giggling of girls when he approached Pansy’s dorm and took a deep breath as he raised his hand to give a gentle knock on the door. 

Mattheo halts his movement as he hears your voice, he listens intently but is only able to make out some words. “What?! Someone like Cedric? How did you end up dating Mattheo Riddle of all people?” Pansy’s sharp voice sucks out all of Mattheo’s breath and he’s nailed to the floor as he listens to your voice. He can’t really hear all you’re saying because your voice is soft and further away than Pansy’s, but he does make out one thing. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Matt.” 

Mattheo’s distrusting nature took this entirely the wrong way and he didn’t even bother to listen in further. After those words his feet take him far away from you. His heart aches as he now believes he’s not the guy you want to be with while you are all he wants for the rest of his life. He feels suffocated by the fear of losing you and rushes out of the castle. 

It’s Fred that spots Mattheo’s appalled face first. “Still not over your epic loss.” He snickers, not aware that Mattheo is more than pleased to run into an excuse to punch. “Get off of my brother!” George screeches before taking a swing at Mattheo. Fuck, I forgot there are always two of them.

A soft knock at the door has all the girls narrow their eyes at the door. “Are we expecting anyone else?” Pansy looks disgusted at the thought of some loser girl wanting to join her elite girls’ night, but as she gets up to open the door it’s Theodore who pushes it open just wide enough to stick his head through it. “You better have a damn good excuse Nott.” Pansy crosses her arms with a death glare that would match your boyfriend’s. “Mattheo.” Theo simply states making your heart skip a beat not just at your boyfriend’s name but at the seriousness of Theo’s voice. “That guy is always in some kind of trouble and not an excuse to come in here.” Pansy snaps, far from interested in whatever mess Mattheo had gotten himself into, but you had already gotten up from your spot among the soft pillows. Pansy lets her head fall, not pleased that you were leaving, but you just give her an apologetic smile and pull your hoodie over your head.

Mattheo rolls his eyes when he sees you enter the hospital wing, but he also couldn’t help but return his gaze to you. In short pyjama shorts and an oversized hoodie that Mattheo didn’t recognize was his, you looked so innocent and for a moment he forgot that you broke his heart. You took a seat next to him on the hospital bed, while studying his injuries. “You’re an idiot.” You whisper, but Mattheo just snorts and lets his head fall back into the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah well, apologies that I’m no Cedric Diggory.” Mattheo says with a quiet but poisonous ring to it. 

Your eyebrows knit together for a few seconds before it hits you. “Unbelievable.” You chuckle and Mattheo looks up at you with pained and confused eyes. How could you think this was funny when it was heartbreaking to him. 

“You sure are no Cedric Diggory.” The soft laugh that follows your words puts Mattheo at ease. “You’re better than anything I had ever hoped for. So Matt, don’t ever jump to conclusions as ridiculous as the ones circling your head now. I love you and I don’t think I could ever love someone else.” Mattheo stares at you with a clenched jaw and glassy eyes. “I really hope so, because I don’t want to lose you.” His voice is raspy and you give him a soft smile, before leaning in. Your boyfriend is more than pleased to feel your touch, deepening the kiss as soon as your lips brush his. 

Tom

You and Tom had been dating for a while and it was clear that you were his girlfriend and he was your boyfriend, but Tom was not one to put labels on relationships especially with all dark things surrounding him. He was losing his patience with Hogwarts and its professor questioning his ambitions. His always stoic and charming attitude had almost been broken by Dumbledore’s intrusive questions. It had upset him  to such a level that he needed you around regardless of your plans.

Agitated and in need of your calming voice Tom is ready to burst in and ruin girls night when he overhears you and your friends banther. “What, him? He’s nothing like Tom?” Some girl squeals. “He’s the exact opposite.” Another laughs. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Tom Riddle.” His eyes go dark the instant he hears you say his name. His tongue moves as his mind rages with absolute fury for you. You of all people, you that he needed more than anyone. He wasn’t even your first choice. Suddenly all your friends in the room faint and you jump up, immediately checking for a pulse. It’s in that silent moment of relief when you realise that your friends are just asleep that you hear footsteps outside.

You swing the door open with your wand ready in hand, but when you spot your boyfriend you relax. “You can’t just hex people.” You sigh, you tense up a bit when Tom turns to face you with emotionless eyes. “I can, I'm a wizard.” You knew better than to mess with him when he was as cold as he was now. “What’s going on?” You calmly ask, walking towards him. “Explain to me what you meant with ‘someone like Tom Riddle’?” A featherlight huff of air escapes your lips as you meet his eyes, you can’t keep a smile from tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Someone who hexes four people to sleep because he’ll take any excuse to believe that he is unloved, rather than listen to the sentence as a whole. I fell in love with you Tom Riddle and I don’t intend to fall out of love with you.” Your boyfriend feels almost attacked by your words. You love me? “You mean love as in the big sense of the word?” Tom’s voice is hesitant, failing to sound demanding or charming. “Tom, the word love has no small sense of the word. It’s a word that’s always true and always full of emotion.” 

“Should I wake up your friends?” Tom offers, feeling a bit embarrassed at how he overreacted. You chuckle and walk over to him and he’s happy to wrap his arms around you as you think over his offer. “Nah, I much rather spend the night with you.” His lips search yours for a tender kiss. I love you too.

Enzo

Your boyfriend was insulted when you picked Pansy over him. We could be having a bath together, but no girls’ night. I need a new girlfriend… Who am I kidding, I need just mine asap. Ignoring his friends warnings about how dangerous Pansy could be when someone interrupted her gossip nights, Enzo basically ran to Pansy’s dorm, like he needed you for urgent matters. Then again, in Enzo’s book intimate quality time with you was always an urgent matter. He needed you and he would have you now. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Enz.” Enzo’s happy puppy face falss the second he recognises it was you talking. 

The next morning an unwashed, unshaven, not properly dressed Enzo is picking at his food when you jump in to give him a kiss on the cheek. He lets you, but he doesn’t react and you frown, looking over at his friends you see them raise their shoulders. Odd. You shuffle between him and Blaise and turn to face your boyfriend. “Talk to me Enz?” “Not hungry.” He states and without even giving you one look he gets up from the table and leaves. You are absolutely frozen in your seat at what had just happened. “What did you do?” Mattheo asks, unable to hide his curiosity and amusement. No one had ever seen Enzo like this so everyone at the table was dying to know what had happened, but you didn’t have a clue. 

You take breakfast on the go and follow your boyfriend. Quickly stuffing your mouth as you head for his room. You enter and see him lying on his bed with his back turned towards you. “Enz, talk to me, what’s wrong?” You get no response except for a lazy shrug so you decide to move closer and sit by his side. As soon as you do so he turns around so again his back is facing towards you. At this point you were getting slightly annoyed with his behaviour. “Enz-” “Just break up with me already!” Enzo snaps and he jumps up heading for the door.

When you see him angrily swing open the door you snap. “Sit your ass down, Berkshire!” Enzo stops in his tracks and for a second no one moves, not you, not Enzo, not the people in the slytherin common room who were absolutely terrified of what was about to go down. Enzo closes the door and turns to face you. You immediately notice his tired eyes and you walk over to him. “Enz-” Your soft voice breaks your boyfriend’s stubborn attitude. “I’m nothing like the type of guy you wanted… you just accidentally ended up with me.” Your eyebrows knit together and Enzo explains himself further. “I overheard you and your friends talk last night, I wasn’t listening in or anything, I just missed you.” His voice sounds painfully broken and your grab his hands meet his eyes with a sincerity. “I didn’t accidentally end up with you. You charmed me. You spend days flirting your way into my life, my head and my bed… You made me fall in love with you and oh boy did I fall for you, Enzo Berkshire, you and all your charm. Did first year me think to ever end up with you? No. Do I ever want anyone else? No! You are the one, Enzo.” A small smirk tugs on his lips as he can’t hide his happiness anymore. “I’m the one?” Your boyfriend questions sheepishly and you nod, making him smile brightly. “I’m the one.” He repeats, eyebrows wiggling, pleased with that new piece of information. 

Theo

Stealing you away from a girls night wouldn’t be easy, but Theodore had come prepared. He hated himself for being this needy and this cheesy, but he flicked away his cigarette anyways and picked up a small box filled with your favourite snacks. His friends and everyone else at Hogwarts were starting to see that the tough guy act that Theodore had been keeping up for years was cracking as his softer side was becoming more and more visible everyday all because of you, the love of his life. Walking towards Pansy’s dorm a small smile creeps up your boyfriend’s lips as he stares at the snacks in his hands. Salazar, I’m whipped for this girl and I don’t even mind. Your voice interrupts his thoughts and his eyes lift to the door in front of him. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Theo.” Pansy snickers “Yeah, he’s nothing like the guy you just described. So weird you fell for him.” You chuckle at Pansy’s words. “Silly, I know.” The word silly rings in Theodore’s mind as he speedwalks away. 

“I so want to marry him.” You laugh and continue dreaming out loud. “He would be such a sweet and sexy husband… oh and omg he would be the greatest dad to our kids. I just know he’ll be so invested with their dreams and hobbies.” You roll on your back and stare up at the ceiling, when you sigh in a dreamy way Pansy smashes a pillow in your face. “Hello! Girls night, stop dreaming about your boyfriend… and instead tell us nasty sex stories or something.” Everyone burst out laughing and you spend the night not having a clue that in Theodore’s mind you two were done.

The next morning you are still unaware of your break up and instead fall in love even more when you find a box filled with your favourite snacks outside of Pansy’s dorm. “That’s just disgustingly adorable.” Pansy jokes as you walk in the direction of the great hall. “Husband material.” You sing and smile at Pansy. However, you stop in your tracks when you spot Theo lazily hanging over some girl's shoulder joking with her about something. He notices you and you want to smile, but he instantly looks away making you frown. You and Pansy walk over to him, but your heart already knows something is wrong. When you stand beside him Theodore reluctantly pulls his attention away from the pretty girl at the table to give you an agitated look. “Look (y/n), I heard you last night, I’m not the guy you planned on ending up with and I don’t mind, but let’s not waste any more time on this relationship and just go our own way.” You stand there absolutely perplexed and you’re absolutely horrified to hear some girls giggling at the scene in front of them. When you finally open your mouth Theo doesn’t even let you speak. “It’s been fun, but really I’m busy here.” 

Never had anyone stomped on your heart and humiliated you like this. With teary eyes you turn around and rush out of the great hall, only to hear Ron hushed voice, “That was brutal.”, followed by loud smack, probably Hermoine. 

Theodore didn’t even look as you walked away, but Pansy’s silent but demanding presence forces him to again look away from the girl he’s trying to play. When Theo looks up Pansy wastes no time. “You absolute baboon!” There’s a silence as she just looks at him like he’s vermin. “First of all you don’t eavesdrop.” She smacks him on his arm. “Secondly, you missed out on the part where she said she wants to marry you.” Smacks him again. “Contrary to her opinion, I think you would be a shit dad considering you are a god awful boyfriend.” Smacks him even harder. “Go apologise!” “But she said-” “Apologise!” Pansy’s shriek horrified everyone in the great hall, but Theodore just stood there confused. He had been so convinced you didn’t really want him, you had just fallen for him but it was never supposed to last and now Pansy’s telling him that you want the same as him, marriage and a life together.

Slowly and slightly terrified Theo opens the door to your room. He’s immediately met with the sound of your sobs and when he spots your figure curled up into a ball his heart breaks even harder than it had done yesterday. You turn around expecting to see Pansy, but you’re shocked to see an apologetic looking Theodore slowly walking towards you. “No!” You snap at him and get up. “Get out!” You yell and throw a pillow at his head. “Please listen, I made a mistake.” You grab the table lamp on your night stand. “Yes, you did by coming here!” He’s quick to grab your hand and keep you from smashing the lamp on his head. “Don’t. You love this lamp.” You girth your teeth, of course Theodore knows you love that lamp, he knows everything about you. You start sobbing again and Theo struggles to find words so he just gets to his knees. “It was a misunderstanding. I thought I was just a fling to you and it broke my heart… and I did a dumb thing.” Your eyes go wide. “A fling? You thought you were a fling?” You can’t believe your dumb ass boyfriend. Theodore takes your hand in his and kisses it softly. “Please forgive me.” He begs in a soft voice. You look at him sitting on his knees, holding your hand, looking lost. “Please.” He urges and you start laughing. “There are no words to describe you, Theodore Nott.” Theo gets up and smiles. “How about future husband? Does that describe me?” He pulls you closer and a cheeky smile forms on his lips. You loved him, but forced your smile into a line. “I’m still mad.” You state and your boyfriend’s confidence fades. “Obviously. Just let me make this up to you.” You better!

Blaise

“I dare you.” M attheo whispered near Blaise’s ear for the millionth time. “Still not playing.” Blaise sighs and Mattheo growls in annoyance. “Why?” Blaise looks up from his book. “I’m not ruining my girlfriend’s girl’s night because you want me to spy on your crush… I also don’t believe they would even let me stay.” Mattheo huffs. “I don’t have a crush, it’s research, and you should at least try to get in there.” Blaise shakes his head no. “I’ll do your homework.” Mattheo offers. “I’ll do it better.” Blaise sings, making Theo chuckle. “I’ll clean your side of the dorm.” Blaise looks up at Mattheo. “Have you cleaned a thing in your life?” Mattheo thinks about it and quickly realises that he needs to think of a different offer. “I’ll shut up for at least 24h hours if you try to get in.” “Oh, please Blaise, do me a favour and just go, so Matt will be silent.” Blaise sighs and gets up. “Fine, I’ll take one for the team.” Draco and Theo both cheer, making Mattheo frown.

As Blaise approaches Pansy’s dorm he hears several girls snicker and followed by lots of chatter that he can’t make out, until he’s right in front of the door. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Blaise.” Without a second though Blaise turns on his heels and walks back to his friends. Once there his friends all look up to see his horrified expectation. “You okay mate?” Mattheo asks worriedly and Theodore puts his book down to listen, but Blaise can’t form an answer. What does that mean? Why does she wonder about how she ended up with me? 

Blaise just stares in front of him like he was solving some physics problem and not being very successful. Draco takes a piece of parchment from his study notes and forms it into a ball of paper before throwing it at Blaise who seems to wake up from his thoughts and again turn on his heels. “Odd.” Theodore says and Draco shrugs, but they all continue with their business. 

Blaise is back at Pansy’s door and swings it open this time, making all your friends scream for a second. “What the hell, Zabini!” Pansy snaps. “Why do you wonder how you ended up falling in love with someone like me?” Blaise’s eyes focus on you. “What does that mean, someone like me? You mean my colour, my nerdiness, sporty side, or that I’m a bad boy type of guy? And more importantly, are we done? I mean, I would like to know if you’re breaking up with me.” Pansy crosses her arms and groans, dropping her head before snapping at Blaise. “Did she not just say that she fell in love with you! Seriously, if you eavesdrop, at least do it right!” 

“I’m not breaking up with you!” Blaise sighs in relief and you get up from your seat. Blaise looks around and feels a bit embarrassed when he notices all your friends saw his moment of panic. “And what I meant with someone like you was someone as cool and composed as you… but I guess that facade just fell.” Blaise chuckles as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I guess I panicked for a moment, but that was only because I thought you were going to break up with me. Now I’m cool again.” You  smile and lick your lips. “It was kinda sexy.” You whisper and his hands make their way to your hips as you kiss him. 

“Ew! Get that dude out of my girl’s night!” Pansy expresses her annoyances making you both smile into the kiss. 

Draco

“Girls like it when you interrupt their little parties and show them love in front of all their friends.” Enzo frowns at Draco’s statement. “Your girl might like it but Pansy will not.” Draco huffs and straightens his shoulders. “I’m not afraid of her.” This false play of bravery makes Enzo snort. “Even Matt is scared of Pansy and his father is the dark lord.” Enzo argues, but Draco just waves his arguments away and heads for Pansy’s dorm. 

“The guy you describe is nothing like Draco!” Pansy squeals, shocked by the person you had just described. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Malfoy.” You say rather serious. Draco considers whether to continue listening in, but his ego is too bruised. I’m not the kind of guy she wanted… Did she start dating me out of pity or something…

After a few seconds Enzo sees Draco return, clearly upset. “Told you, Pansy’s scaryyy.” Enzo sings as Draco just speedwalks past him and Theodore lounging in the common room. Both Slytherins shrug, but make no move to check on Draco. 

The next morning you joyfully walk, almost skip, to your boyfriend who is rather depressingly resting his head in hand as he stares endlessly in front of him. “Bad night?” You ask in a gentle whisper and his eyes move to yours, but he doesn’t answer, only the corners of his mouth twitch in response. The heartbrokenness is obvious in his eyes and your joy fades away as you sit beside him. “Who is he?” You almost hurt yourself trying to figure out who Draco is asking about. “The guy you actually like?” You raise your eyebrows and his absurd question. “Oh that guy, total moron… YOU! You dummy! I like you, you know that.” You laugh at Draco’s silliness but he doesn’t even smile so after a few seconds your smile fades as well. “I heard you talk yesterday… about this other guy… that’s nothing like me.” There’s a long silence as it takes you a moment to figure out what your boyfriend is talking about. When you do, you immediately want to assure him, but interrupts you before you get the chance. “I just need to know if I still have a chance with you…” His eyes look lifeless as he confesses his fear of losing you and you. 

You sit up straight and cup his cheeks. “Draco Malfoy, I love YOU. There is no other guy! You hear me?” Even though you’re holding his face in your hands he shakes no. “You said-” You sigh. “Draco, before I came to Hogwarts I had a crush on another guy who was nothing like you, but as soon as I met your dumb ass I thought that has to be the love of my life… weird but true.” Draco stares deep into your eyes in an attempt to check if you’re telling the truth. “So you’re not dumping for some tanned six pack bodybuilder type?” You laugh out loud and Enzo and Mattheo raise their eyebrows as they approach you. “Draco is an idiot.” You say smiling. “I could have told you that before you started dating.” Mattheo jokes sitting down opposite of Draco. “Looking for a new boyfriend?” Enzo quips, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “I’m single and ready to mingle.” Draco throws a pancake at Enzo who dodges it elegantly. “Don’t even think about it Enzo! I’m an idiot but not that big an idiot to let her go.” You smile at your boyfriend and he kisses you gently. 

[hurtspideyparker]

Peter places an envelope on Tony's desk.

Tony looks up confused, "huh? What's that for?"

"It's for you," he points awkwardly at the plain blue envelope, held closed with a Darth Vader sticker.

"It's not my birthday kid." He snaps the protective face shield back down as he picks up his soldering iron, sparks flying as he gets back to work.

"I know that I, uh. It's from, it's for. It's yours. I gotta go, see you later Mr. Stark!" Peter hikes his backpack up tighter as he skips out of the lab.

Tony grunts in acknowledgement without looking up, eyes focused on the searing metal in front of him.

* * *

"Tony? I thought you were gonna have dinner with me after Peter left," Pepper saunters down into the workspace in a flattering pair of jeans and baby blue blouse.

"I was. I am. He left like five minutes ago," Tony waves at her without taking his eyes from the computer he's typing on.

"Happy drove him home two hours ago. Come, have a nice sit down meal with me." Pepper wraps her arms around his shoulders from behind, kissing the top of his head.

"I can have a sit down meal. I'm sitting right now, bring the carbonara down here and it'll be a proper date," Tony replies.

"Yeah, you me and your computer. How romantic. Tony, come upstairs- what's this?"

Tony glances up to see her holding a blue envelope.

"Uh, it's the kids."

Pepper flips it around, "it says To Mr. Stark From Peter on the back."

Tony just shrugs and goes back to typing on his computer.

The delicate glue of the sticker is undone under Pepper's sharp nails as she opens up the envelope and pulls something from inside.

"It's illegal to open someone else's mail y'know," Tony teases.

"Tony this- god you are such an asshole!" Pepper smacks Tony on the back of the head with the envelope.

"Ow! What the- what did I do now! I was just joking about the carbonara thing... mostly."

Tony finally meets Pepper's eyes of scorn. She tosses something in front of him with a huff.

"Tony, he even used a Darth Vader sticker. Do you know how adorably geeky and topical that is? You have got to start paying more attention to the living breathing people in front of you instead of your machines. Dinner is ready, please come upstairs."

Tony watches her leave as the clack of her heels fade away with every step. He's not sure what Darth Vader has to do with missing dinner, but he's quick to get up and start to follow.

He pauses before he makes it out the door, turning to finish the last line of code before he forgets the function. He pushes something off of his keyboard to type and press save.

Tony can't remember the last time he looked up from his work long enough to consume solid food. He's so ready to carb-load with some Italian food, turning away from the computer and blue envelope.

Tony's eyebrows furrow. Hm. Darth Vader sticker.

Tony turns back around and picks up the envelope from beside his keyboard.

This must be what the kid was yapping about earlier. Tony sticks his hand inside and finds a card, pulling it out.

"Father's Day it is," the front says in bold lettering with a picture of Yoda crudely hand-drawn with a sharpie and green highlighter. Tony flips it open, "celebrate you we must" is written in the middle of the page.

Below is a message in smaller writing; "Thank you for everything Mr. Stark, we wouldn't be here without you!" with a blob of sharpie that looks suspiciously like it's scribbled out a small heart, then signed "From Peter, Dum-E and U" each name written in their own unique handwriting.

"Friday, what day is it?"

"It is Sunday June 16th, also celebrated as Father's Day in countries such as the United States, Canada, and the UK."

Hm.

Tony stands there and stares at the card for longer than he'd ever admit before looking up at Dum-E.

"You help with this?" he asks, pointing at the card.

Dum-E chirps happily, twirling his claw around.

"Your hand writing's terrible."

* * *

Peter enters the lab slowly, an unsureness to him that's out of character.

It's Wednesday, his usual day for coming over to Tony's workshop. He hasn't heard anything from Tony since Sunday, not that he usually does. Still, the quietness has unnerved him. He's not sure what he was even expecting from his mentor; silence is probably the nicest response he could hope for after embarrassing himself like that.

"Hi Mr. Stark," he greets once he spots the older man sitting next to a complicated tangle of wires.

"Hey kid, can you go to the computer and run the command I have open for me?"

"Sure thing!" Peter says as he dumps his backpack onto the floor and jogs over.

The two get into an easy rhythm and Peter's practically forgotten why he was nervous in the first place when, "hey grab us some sodas will you," Mr. Stark asks him.

Peter walks up to the fridge in the corner of the room when he notices something new.

In the center of the silver metal lies a single piece of paper, stuck to the refrigerator with a plain magnet seemingly scrapped from some old hardware in the lab.

Tony has his Father's Day card displayed like some dorky parent whose kid got a half-decent report card, showcased on a fridge like a toddler's finger painted masterpiece.

It makes Peter so happy he can't wipe the stupid grin off his face the entire time he's grabbing sodas and delivering one to Tony.

The older hums a thanks without looking away from his project, but as Peter turns away Tony's own face contorts into a pleased smile all of his own.

The two share identical smiles all afternoon, hidden behind soda cans and computer screens.

[drmaddict]

Pet dates

Summary: When Theo took a cat into his dormitory one evening, he didn't expect to wake up next to a girl the next morning. (Y/n), who was walking around the school in her Animagus form, didn't really expect to be used as a teddy bear that night either.

Wordcount: 3.748

I taped quietly through the nightly corridors of Hogwarts. As an Animagus, I enjoyed the freedom of not being noticed. Another cat in the corridors. Who would even waste a glance? I was enjoying the darkness of the night with my adjusted eyes when I saw three figures. They came closer quietly.

"Shh!", one of them hissed.

"Hey, you had to sneak into the library, didn't you?", hissed the next one.

I recognized Draco Malfoy first. His light-colored hair was immediately noticeable. Then Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott.

Draco and Mattheo walked past me, but Theodore stopped.

"Hello there.", he whispered and held out his hand to me. "Come here piccola bellezza."

"Dude, leave the cat alone and come here.", Draco hissed.

Theo ignored him and stroked my head with his fingertips. Out of instinct, I began to purr.

To be honest, I don't get touched very often. Neither as a cat, nor as a human. Theodore smiled. "Have you been locked out?" He stroked my back with just the right amount of pressure. "It's far too cold out here. Come on. It's warm in our dorm."

Still completely caught up in the pleasure of his touch, I reacted too late. I found myself pressed against his chest. Most girls would kill for this opportunity. Maybe I would too, but somehow you imagine this in a different context.

Theodore caught up with the other two.

Draco just rolled his eyes, but Mattheo looked at me closely. A grin stretched across his face as he looked me straight in the eye, as if he knew exactly who I was. "Interesting.", he whispered.

"What?", Theodore asked, confused.

Mattheo bent down to my eye level. "Come on then, little mouse.", he grinned.

I wriggled against the iron grip around me. "Stop that! You're making her nervous.", Theodore grumbled.

"Guys, can we please go now?" growled Draco, annoyed. The three of them started moving again.

"What is it with you and cats anyway?" Draco asked into the silence.

"They're cats.", Theodore replied, as if that explained everything.

When the three of them arrived in their common room, Theodore sat me down on his bed. Blaise Zabini was lying on the opposite one, leafing through a book. He raised a well-formed eyebrow.

"Weren't you going to get a book?"

"Shut up.", grumbled Theodore.

"Theo just picked up a little girlfriend on the way.", grinned Riddle. "That's nothing new."

I gave him a dirty glare. Somehow the bastard knew exactly, who I was.

I jumped off the bed and went to the door. I scratched at it and meowed angrily, but Theodore just grabbed me again and sat me on the bed.

"It's all right. Nothing will happen to you here."

I exhaled in annoyance. Riddle reached for me with one hand, grinning, but I immediately slapped his hand away.

"Ow!" he hissed and stuck his bleeding finger in his mouth. "You little-"

I instinctively stood up to my full height and hissed at him.

Theodore pushed him away from me.

"She scratched me!", Riddle hissed.

"You scared her." grumbled Theodore.

Turning to his bed, he pulled his shirt over his head and let his pants slide to the floor.

I quickly turned to the wall and looked at the green fabric of the four-poster bed. The world was unfair. The guy didn't have one bloody flaw.

I heard Riddle snicker. Asshole.

Theodore lay down under the covers. Without a warning, he pulled me against him like I was a teddy bear. He stroked my stomach slowly. I let out a surrendered breath. I didn't even notice that I was falling asleep from the gentle caresses.

The next morning, I woke up to someone stroking my head.

"Morning Bella.", someone whispered.

My brain kick-started. I was in Theodore Nott's bed. He was still holding me. I was - thank God - still a cat.... I hadn't slept this well in a long time.

But I'd never slept as a cat either, so that was probably it.

Theodore stroked my stomach in slow circles. The purring immediately started again. I looked at him. He was smiling gently. I didn't really know him, but he always seemed so cold in the corridors. Very different from now. He closed his eyes and continued to run his fingers through my fur.

I was too rarely really touched not to enjoy this.

I allowed the caress and closed my eyes until Riddle's voice rang out.

Whereupon a scream was heard. Theodore's scream.

I felt my body expand.

I looked into Theodore's horrified face.

I looked around in panic. Riddle laughed. "There are spells that can force an Animagus back into its human form."

I glanced at Theodore again before running off frantically. As soon as I opened the door, I sprinted back through the corridors in cat form.

I felt like throwing up.

Theo's POV

I was still looking after the girl in shock.

We had potions together. I didn't know her name though. Mattheo was still laughing.

"You knew that?", I snapped at him.

He just shrugged and threw himself back into bed. "You seem to have acted with mutual consent."

I threw my alarm clock at him.

(Y/n)s POV

"Where have you been?", Jenny asked me, as I walked into our common room.

"Nowhere.", I said way too quickly.

"But-"

"Nowhere!", I babbled frantically and immediately locked myself in the bathroom.

Now everyone will know. I ruffled my hair. I had always kept the authorization for the Animagus a secret. It should remain a secret. God, they're all going to shoot their mouths off. The little freak who clings to the school crush par excellence and crawls into his bed without hin knowing.

I forced myself to take a deep breath.

Bloody hell.

I skipped breakfast. As small as I could, I sat down in Potions class and looked at my book.

I heard everyone filling the room, but continued to not look up. I breathed a sigh of relief when Snape finally walked into the room in his usual dramatic fashion.

"You will form groups today."

I looked dully at the blackboard. Was he serious?

He called out the pairs stoically.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N). Theodore Nott."

Was he fucking serious?

I buried my face in my hands. What had I done? What did I do to deserve this?

I heard a pile of books being dropped on the desk.

I looked up into Theodore Nott's usual cold face. My face felt incredibly hot.

Snape explained the day's task and then sat down at his desk.

Silently, I began sorting the ingredients.

Theodore skimmed over the instructions.

"Can you please not tell anyone?", I whispered.

He didn't respond. I sighed. "I dont want to push you... But that I'm an Animagus... Only I knew that until yesterday."

He grumbled.

"I wanted to leave, but you wouldn't let me.", I grumbled back.

"Because I thought you were a cat.", he hissed.

"Why are you taking some stranger's cat with you anyway?"

He faltered. "None of your business."

I sighed in annoyance and turned up the flame.

"Was it that bad?", he grumbled quietly.

"What?"

"Lying in my bed with me."

I glanced at the kettle. "No." I admitted.

He stirred like the instructions said. "We're good at keeping our mouths shut. So don't worry."

I looked at his cold face. How could he be so different to the boy this morning? That warm and relaxed smile.

"Thank you.", I whispered.

I sprinted through the corridors as fast as my paws could carry me. That damn Miss Noris had it in for me.

I whizzed around the corner and immediately collided with a pair of legs.

I heard the cat behind me. I stood up and hissed at her.

"Go on. Go away.", said the owner of the legs and gently shooed her away.

Miss Noris gave me another challenging look and then slunk around the corner.

Theodore sighed. He glanced toward me. "(Y/n)?", he asked cautiously.

I nodded.

"Being a cat, you sure do pick fights, don't you?"

I grumbled. I didn't start it.

He smirked. "Don't get caught away."

His hand moved to my head, but stopped in mid-motion. He stretched his fingers once and pulled them back towards him. "See you."

I could feel myself wanting that touch. Even though I couldn't say why, I was far braver as a cat than as a human. So I trotted past him and stroked his legs once. A few steps away, I stopped again and looked at him. A small smile appeared on his face.

He shook his head at me. "We'll keep this between us," he murmured.

I nodded and walked back towards my common room. I tried to ignore the tingling sensation on my head.

The next day, Theodore suddenly sat down next to me in Potions. I looked irritatedly from him to his clicke and back again.

"Hi.", he just said and put his books on the table.

"Uhh... Hi.", I faltered.

He looked straight at me and leaned slightly towards me. "If I'm wrong, just forget it and pretend I never said anything.", he started. I nodded hesitantly. In a whisper, he continued. "You seem to like it when people... pet you.", he began.

I nodded. "I think we'd both benefit from seeing each other... meet like this more often.", he mumbled.

I looked at him, confused. "You want... What, petting dates?", I asked.

"Forget it.", he grumbled and tried to get up, but I held him by his sleeve.

"Now wait a minute. I'm just surprised.", I explained. He sat down again. I played with my quill. "I don't think I'd mind, but why don't you just get a cat... Well, if you like them so much."

"I'm not allowed.", he explained curtly.

"Oh."

"Yup."

I prepared my roll of parchment. "When do you want to start?"

I noticed his shoulders relax slightly. Today at seven. Come to the library. I'll sit at the back."

I nodded as Snape came bounding through the door.

I crept through the library, keeping an eye out for Theodore.

Hidden at the very back, he was sitting and flicking through a book, bored.

I jumped onto the table next to him and looked at the manuscript. He flinched slightly, when I landed next to him. "Hi," he whispered. He pointed to his scarf, which he had provisionally draped into a small bed. "Make yourself comfortable."

I lay down hesitantly on the green fabric. I pulled it here and there to make myself comfortable. When I was satisfied and lay down, I noticed Theodore grinning at me and shaking his head slightly. I grumbled slightly. He put his hand on my head and started to run it through my fur. I immediately started purring. He applied the perfect amount of pressure again. I closed my eyes in pleasure and let my limbs grow heavy.

"So we can do this more often?", he asked softly. I nodded and let out a small gasp. I lazily opened one eye. He had rested his head on his hand and was looking relaxed at me. I let myself fall onto my side and continued purring to myself.

We met up more often since then. Sometimes even just like that. Without fur. He had immediately made it clear that he only wanted to be called Theo when I had first spoken to him. Now we were sitting in the three brooms, drinking butterbeer.

"Don't you want to join your friends?" I asked.

He waved me off. "Oh Draco's studying to beat Granger today. Blaise has a date and Mattheo... I don't want to know."

He took a big sip from his glass.

"What do you actually get out of these meetings?" I asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders. "It relaxes me.", he admitted. "Most people just want sex."

I let my fingers scratch his scalp once. His ears turned red. I grinned. "Do you want to swap roles?"

He remained silent. "It wouldn't be a problem.", I mumbled. "Quit pro quo.", I shrugged.

He held on to his glass. "Would you?", he asked, looking stubbornly at the table.

"Sure.", I said, shrugging my shoulders.

He downed the rest of his beer and stood up. He held his hand out to me. "You coming?"

I let him pull me along.

He poked his head into the bedroom and exhaled with relief. Quickly, he pushed me inside. No one was there. He waved his wand and the curtains of his bed were already drawn. We sat down behind the curtains. I leaned back against the headboard and looked at Theo, waiting. He cast a silencing spell on the bed before lying down hesitantly on the pillow. I stroked his thick curls. He exhaled calmly and just let himself be pampered. It was unusual, but... nice.

Theo's POV

I was already poking around in my food, bored, when Mattheo sat down next to me on the bench.

"Tell me, when do you actually fuck each other?", he grinned.

I looked at him blankly. "Who are you talking about?"

Mattheo shook his head in amusement. "Well, your kitten."

I furrowed my eyebrows in irritation.

"Are you stalking me?"

Mattheo was still shoveling his food onto his plate with amusement. "You forget I know what goes on with people in here." He tapped his own forehead and grinned. "The little one has the hots for you. Even if she doesn't really know it herself yet."

He leaned his head on one hand. "But you're no better."

My hand closed convulsively around my fork. Anger bubbled up inside me. "You swore you'd stay out of our heads."

"I can't always completely suppress it.", Mattheo shrugged. "But you're into each other. In a weird beastly way." He shoved pumpkin paste into his mouth. "Why don't you make some cute little kittens then?"

I spat at him. "If you ever get lost in my head again, I'll make sure you can never grasp even a simple thought of yourself ever again." I stood up jerkily and left the Great Hall.

What was that even supposed to mean (Y/n) fancies me? We were... Friends? Damn we were friends. I liked her. Because we were friends. How by Merlin's fucking beard did that happen?

(Y/n)s POV

Theo was avoiding me. Had been all week. I didn't know if I'd done anything wrong, but he was avoiding me.

I was walking through the library to check out a potions book when I saw him between one of the back shelves. I stopped with a jolt. He had a girl pressed up against the shelf. He was literally devouring her. As quickly as possible, I turned around and left, but not without catching my bag on the shelf and catapulting a handful of books onto the floor.

They fluttered around until they were put back in their places.

I looked into the expressionless face of Theo and the grinning face of a blonde Ravenclaw girl.

"Sorry.", I babbled and disappeared as quickly as I could.

He could have just said he was seeing someone. Damn it, I really didn't insist that we see each other. After all, he had started the whole thing. I sat down defiantly in the courtyard. That we could become friends? But... Hadn't we become friends somewhere?

I sighed. Maybe I was just imagining it.

I was trotting through the corridors when I heard him.

"Hey.... Hey wait a minute! Damn it, stop!"

I sprinted on, but somehow Theo caught up with me. He quickly picked me up and hugged me to him. He held my front and back paws in one hand each so that I couldn't scratch him. I wriggled around wildly in his arms.

"No, you're coming with me now.", he scolded.

He carried me into the dungeon to his dormitory and threw me roughly onto his bed. He breathed in and out heavily from the effort of holding me down. I did the same. My ears were pinned back and I glared at him angrily.

"Everyone out!", he ordered without looking at anyone in the room.

They left the dormitory grumbling. I made a dash for the open door, but Theo immediately held me down. "Don't even think about it.", he hissed.

I hissed back. What the fuck was that about?

He didn't want to talk to me anymore.

The door closed. I sat petulantly on the bed.

"Now... Become a fucking human being! I want to talk!"

All of a sudden he wanted to talk. He ignored the fact that I even existed for two weeks and suddenly he wanted to talk.

I turned my back to him and flattened my ears.

"I'm sorry, okay?", he groaned, annoyed.

I didn't move.

He walked around the bed to look at me. He squatted down in front of me.

"I've been thinking," he said angrily. "Damn I'm not used to this friendship crap!"

I continued to sulk.

"Especially not with girls." He sat down on the floor. "It's unusual and scares me." A pout now appeared on his face too. "With girls, I usually only want sex and not... the rest." He got quieter and quieter.

I looked at him in surprise.

He buried his face in his hands. "Could I speak to a human now, please?"

I let myself change into my human form.

"What does that mean exactly?", I asked, looking down at him.

He looked stubbornly at the edge of the bed. "Probably that I want a relationship.", he said, as irritated as if he could hardly believe it himself.

"With me?", I asked, confused.

He looked at me as if I was dumb. "Of course with you! With who else?"

"No idea! Maybe Miss Ravenclaw." I threw my hands up in the air, annoyed.

"Are you jealous?"

"No.", I pouted.

"You're jealous."

"I'm not jealous."

"She's jealous!", Mattheo shouted from the other side of the door.

I growled, annoyed. "How-"

"He can read minds... by nature."

"That damn-"

"Hey! Concentrate!" He pulled my face towards him. His hands were warm on my cheeks. "If you're jealous, it's probably because you don't find the idea so far-fetched."

"Maybe." I mumbled and looked into his blue eyes.

"Possibly.", he nodded. He pushed me onto the bed and himself on top of me. His lips met mine hard. Large hands slid over my body with determination. Overwhelmed, I reached into his hair and tried to keep up with him. It was no secret that he was experienced. You could guess that I wasn't. He let his mouth wander to my neck, held my jaw gently but firmly to get a better grip on my throat and licked over the main artery, which was pulsating fast and furiously. I closed my eyes in pleasure and a soft moan escaped me.

The door pushed open. "Dude I'm not waiting for you to finish here now." Draco Malfoy walked towards his desk. "I have to study.", he clarified. Theo rolled his eyes. I fought my way back to clear thoughts.

"About time.", Zabini said dryly and lay back down on his bed.

Theo reached for his wand and the curtains closed immediately. This was followed by a silencing spell.

He looked me straight in the eye.  "I don't know how relationships work.", he admitted. "But I'm a quick learner."

I smirked. "I wouldn't know either." I closed my eyes in embarrassment. "I don't even know how..."

Theo's hand went back to my jaw. "I'll show you.", he sighed and lunged at my neck again.

I plucked grumpily at my collar. Theo grinned. I glared at him. He grinned wider.

Makeup with 100% coverage was all over my neck and the dark marks were still visible.

He had casually thrown an arm around me as we walked to Potions together. His mask once again completely the serene Theodore Nott that everyone knew.

His fingers ran over my neck.

"Don't do that," I grumbled.

"You liked it yesterday.", he grinned.

I poked him in the ribs.

"YES!" someone shouted in the corridor. "No Potions today!"

Draco, who was walking ahead of us, stuffed his notes into his pocket, annoyed. "If anyone's looking for me, I'm sleeping in until Monday.", he announced, shuffling down the corridor to the common room. The boy had been studying all night. The dark shadows lay heavy under his eyes.

"Early weekend.", Theo sighed, continuing to stroke circles over my neck.

Less than an hour later, we were sitting in the Slytherin common room. Theo was sitting in one of the wing chairs with his legs up, enjoying the warm fire. With his eyes closed, he stroked my fur lazily. I was curled up on his chest, my head in the crook of his neck, purring happily to myself.

Bonus Fluff

Draco and Zabini were once again arguing as only the two of them could. Theo was sitting on his bed and I was on his lap.

I curled up and let myself be stroked. My cat instincts were on fire today.

I smelled her on his fingers. This little one from Ravenclaw. They had played Quidditch against each other. Slytherin had won.

She had hugged him and grabbed his hand. Her scent was there. It wouldn't go away.

"What are you doing?", Theo asked suddenly. I licked his hand and couldn't stop. He belonged to me. He didn't have to smell like anyone else. "Hey, don't do that. That tickles." He tried to pull his hand away, but I nibbled on his finger. "Hey no teeth!" He pulled his hand away in a flash. I growled.

Behind me, Mattheo laughed. "Your little flea slinger is jealous. You reek of someone else."

I took advantage of the brief second Theo was inattentive and latched onto his arm. I immediately rubbed my head against his hand. "Are you marking me right now?", he asked incredulously.

I growled again. Yes, I was jealous. So what? I nibbled on his little finger again. He sighed and lifted me to his chest. A mistake. His neck smelled like her too. I immediately licked it. "Hey!" He tried to push me away, but I clawed at his shirt. "Claws! Claws!" he shouted frantically and grabbed my paws. I put my front paws around his neck.

"Okay.", he sighed. "Let off some steam."

I purred and rubbed my head along his chin.

[taintedcigs]

˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 1; made to break your heart — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader

summary: in which you see your ex making out with someone else leaving you with no choice but to fall right into the lap of his enemy, steve harrington. (wc: 5.2k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, or*l sx (receiving and giving oop), some good ol’ bj, drinking, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, they are both switches but idk if that counts??, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater, steve is an arrogant bastard, and hes got a big BIG di–heart. some lil’ eddie mention that u might miss if u blink!

authors note: i am kinda thinking a pt.2 of this IM open to all ideas, but i kinda am thinking of making it like a mini-series? and maybe introduce eddie in the second part, and then make part 3 steddie? mmmhmm? what do we think? my asks r open for all and any ideass anyways not proofread bc of my lazy ass. ignore any mistakes.

please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol 2 here

Booming music filled your ears, sweaty bodies swaying away from you but you couldn't care less.

Whispers from your back, collected gasps, and all you could do was watch. 

Fingertips clutched on your dress in fury, gaze unable to tear away from the scene playing out right in front of your eyes. 

Tina’s lips were locked onto Billy’s, you thought it was pretty soon to be swapping salivas considering it had been barely two days since he broke up with you. 

The red cup in your hand was almost smushed from the hardened impact of your fists, with a quick go, you downed it, ignoring Tommy and Carol’s cackles as they watched you. 

With a roll of your eyes, you were quick to turn away from them, ignoring your friends calling out for your name—you didn’t need this, you didn’t need to be pampered. You just needed a generous amount of drinks, and maybe someone to keep yourself busy with. 

Tina and her lame-ass party could go fuck themselves.

Billy was an asshole, no real surprise there. And you didn’t care, because the relationship had run its course, again. Tough shit. You were used to it. Another break up with him. 

You didn’t care about it, the only thing you cared about was him crossing the line, making out with another girl in front of everyone. 

Each break, the two of you fucked whoever you wanted to fuck, just to end up together again, drunkenly. But this time he made it everyone’s problem, and you couldn’t let him get away with that. 

The whispers, and the collective giggles every time you passed by were making your blood boil.

You couldn’t let that dipshit ruin your reputation, you weren’t going to pathetically pine over someone who could barely make you cum. And you weren’t going to let any of those gossiping assholes think otherwise. 

You stumble onto the porch with a string of curses leaving your pouty lips, quick to fish out a joint courtesy to that Munson kid, always providing you with the best weed, either free or cheap, depending on how much you adjusted your skirt or batted your lashes at him. 

Maybe, you should pay him a visit. For fucks sake, you’ve seen him play, and he could roll a joint blindfolded, he knew how to put those fingers to use.

You could just imagine the scorching look on Billy’s face, his velvety lips scrunched together, a sickening feeling sinking into his stomach, knowing that you fucked Eddie Munson, the guy he always went to get his weed from.

The idea of it brings a delicious smirk to your lips. But it wouldn’t be enough, no. You needed something more, something bigger. 

“Need a lighter, honey?” A coarse, smooth tone has your head cocking, the joint sitting on your lips rising with the impact. 

Steve fucking Harrington.

Falling right into your lap.

Billy would’ve flipped the fuck out if he knew. He always warned you about him, telling you that Harrington was off limits, no matter what. Well, until now. 

Your gaze locks with his, dangerous, filthy, and exactly where you want him. Before you can drag out the joint to answer him, he acts quicker, brushing his fingertips on your chin, almost tugging you closer to him, he licks his lips, wetting them with a chuckle.

With a gentle flicker of his lighter, the tip of the joint smolders, casting a warm glow to your face that accentuates the smirk curved on your lips. 

Your dress rides up your thighs when you straighten up, taking an inhale from the joint, you blow the smoke in his face without a care. He eyes each of your movements, the stupid grin sitting on his lips growing wider the more his eyes move up and down your body. You almost want to chuckle at how easy this is. 

But you also know Steve’s type, you have to make them chase you a little bit, give them a little thrill, before you finally give in. And you had already been doing that, for the longest time.

Always teasing him, but never giving in. Your hands always brushed past his bicep just enough to let him know you were interested, eyelashes always fluttered at him, teeth biting on your bottom lip as you checked him out. 

The little game had been fun, but you never plucked up the courage to fully give in to him, Billy would’ve lost his shit. Besides, you knew his type, and you didn’t want to be one of his other trophies. And you didn’t have to be, you just had to use him to get yourself off, and piss Billy off. The second you walked into a room with him, you knew the party would be buzzing with the gossip.

You had the perfect excuse, the perfect excuse to finally divulge your fantasies, all the cheerleaders always blabbered about him, calling him an ass, but an ass who knew how to properly use his fingers and that dangerous mouth.

Exactly what you fucking need.

You had been pent up enough for the months you were with Billy.

This would be a little reward. 

“All alone?” He was smug, he absolutely knew about the break-up and possibly saw Tina and Billy’s show, so he knew this was the perfect opportunity to have you in his palm. In a fucked up way, that made you want him more, the unspoken game grew more intense with that gaze of his, he had the same idea you did. The fucker was smooth. 

You nod curtly, not wanting to just fall into his lap. No matter how good he looked in those Levi’s jeans that cupped his ass perfectly. Why was he so fucking interesting to you? Arms all toned, face adorned with tiny moles, he almost seemed mystical. 

And oh god, his hair. That soft, perfectly layered chestnut brown locks, so effortlessly cool that you just wanted to run your hair through it, tugging at it the more his lips sucked on your clit.

God, the thought had your thighs pressing together uncomfortably. 

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be all alone at a party,” he pouted mockingly. “Where’s that boy toy of yours?” He tutted, hand dangerously planted on your back, ghosting over your hips. 

That elicited a giggle out of you, “Didn’t you hear all the rumors, pretty boy?” You leaned further, hand extending to offer him a huff. His attention was somewhere else though, eyes widening the more he admired you in that dress, showing off your curves in all the right way, tits almost busting out of your chest.

God, he had been waiting for this moment, an opportunity to have you, the second he fucking met you. But Billy got to you first.  

“We broke up.” That brought his attention back to you, a smirk played on his lips when he leaned into your hand, lips wrapping around the tip of the joint, he sucked on it but his dark amber eyes remained on you. 

With an inhale, “Good.” He mumbled, “knew that dipshit couldn’t handle someone like you.” 

“You need someone better take care of you…” he hummed, nose dipping closer to your features, “someone who knows how to handle all of this.” His hands were placed on your waist, traveling all over your body. 

Your breath was quick to get caught in your throat, a whine leaving your lips with how forward he was being.

And shit, you understood the appeal, you always did, but this time, you were sure your hunger for him grew faster than you intended to. You were in his palm, and you were more than okay with it. 

“Yeah?” You teased with a giggle, head falling on his shoulder, brain getting fuzzier. 

“I can make you forget him.” He’s bold, and it has your thighs rubbing together.

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember his name, or how to walk.” He’s so close to your ear, breath fanning against your breath as you almost shudder, but you play it off.

“You’re all talk, Harrington.” You licked your glossy lips, head slightly tilted to the side, teasing him just enough. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I know you’ve heard the rumors, and I know you want this as much as you do.” The cocky bastard licks his lips, and you want nothing more than to bite them.

“Oh, yeah?”

“The way you press your thighs together, that little whine you just did when I barely touched you… Tells me all I need to fuckin’ know.” He whispers, and you almost whine out when a sloppy kiss is planted on your neck, harsh and needy. 

“You’ll be screamin’ and beggin’ for me, angel.”

Your brows raise in interest. “That a promise?”

“Uh-huh.” He gives you a boyish grin.

“You’re on, King Steve.” 

It didn’t take the two of you long enough to find an empty bedroom, lips, and teeth clashing as soon as the door closed.

The wandering eyes of the party had followed you up until that point, so you knew as soon as the two of you left the room with your sexed-up looks, everyone would know.

And you would finally have a sweet release after months of Billy’s selfishness.

A win-win. 

You let his curious hands wander around your body, quick to almost rip off your dress, he wants to savor this moment, wants the image of your body engraved in his mind, stuck into the back of it just so he can fish it out whenever he can.

But he’s impatient, he’s waited for this. Wanted you longer than ever, and finally, you’re putty at his hands, ready to take whatever he’s going to give—or at least that’s what he thinks— And he’s feeling greedy. His mouth is pressed onto yours, sucking on your tongue before he lowers you down on the bed, you giggle softly when you sink into it, and Steve has never felt like this before, the hunger in his eyes ignites a spark of pleasure within you, quick to dampen your thighs with need. 

A shocked gasp escapes your lips once he unhooks your bra with his left hand. Oh, he’s good. “Pretty baby,” he murmurs before his mouth is latched onto your nipples. “Perfect fuckin’ tits,” He groans into your chest, hand toying with your lace panties, shaky breaths escape his lips as he earns more whines from you. 

You look ethereal, with your mouth hung open, teeth biting on your glossed-up lips, head thrown back. Just like he knew you’d be. 

The more he circles around your panties the more you feel that pent-up desire burning inside of you, all those orgasmless months with Billy, and Steve was going to elicit more with just a flick of his fingers than you ever had through the entire relationship. 

Maybe that’s why he always called you a bitch. 

“Steve,” your whines come out pathetically as he looks up at you, layered hair already disheveled and that goddamn smirk sitting on his pretty lips. 

“Already beggin’, honey?” He mocks with a grin, tugging on your nipple, all teeth and no mercy. His tongue is making its way further down, soft, wet strokes tickle your body. 

“Fuck off,” You spit at him, barely, words dying down your throat when he’s quick to rip away your lacy panties. His light honey eyes are so much darker now, head thrown back when he visually drinks in your glistening pussy.  

You look so fucking perfect, thighs spread apart, him between them, mouth hung open and ready to take all of him. He makes a mental image of it, burning it to the back of his mind. 

“C’mon sweetheart, let King Steve know what you want, what you really need.” His voice is smooth and coarse, fingertips circling around your clit harder the more you whine for him.

“Do you need my fingers, baby? My mouth?” You moan at that, audibly. It has him chuckling darkly once he realizes how depraved you really are, one touch from him and you’re already soaking his fingers, whining like a pretty little slut. 

If he knew how much you’d be such a good girl for him, he would’ve done this much sooner. Would’ve ruined your pretty little pussy for anyone else, Billy would’ve had no chance over him. 

“Has that asshole not been makin’ you cum?” It was more of a rhetorical question, but the way you shook your head with a pout, had him melting. He really had you and didn’t know how to take good care of you? What a fucking loser.

“Holy fuckin’ shit… not even with his mouth?” His eyes widened, he really didn’t think Billy would be that bad, everything was working to his advantage. 

“He- uh- he never…” You stammered, getting uncharacteristically embarrassed because it was, truly embarrassing. All those months with him, and half the time you faked it. Selfish prick.

“Never? Oh, baby…” He coos with a dangerous smirk, lip all pouty and mocking, “No wonder you were so desperate for me. You really needed this, huh?” He almost gave a chuckle, caressing your pussy with his middle finger, getting you all ready. 

“Jerk-” You want to curse out his cockiness, tell him you don’t need him. Keep him grounded, but the whines he’s pulling out of you are enough to make him grin like a Cheshire cat. 

Your breath gets shakier when his finger easies into your walls. “Sshh, relax, baby.” He coos. 

“I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good, doll.” His fingers are slickly working their way in and out of you, filthy sounds mingling with your moans as his nose brushes over your clit, causing your hips to start rocking up to him. 

“Had this pretty little thing, and didn’t even know how to take care of it, hmm? What a waste,” He hummed sweetly, index finger thrusting in and out of your sloppy walls.

“If I had known you’d be this fuckin’ soaked, I would’ve done this much sooner,” he taunts, fingers curling inside of you, enjoying the way you gasp out and buck your hips for more. 

He dives in, pressing the flat of his tongue against your swollen lips, enjoying, fully tasting you. With a satisfied hum, he brings his eyes to meet yours, all fucked out, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, had this sweet pussy but never even tasted it… What a fuckin’ dumbass… I’ll give you what you deserve, baby…” 

He’s going to explode soon, if he doesn’t make you cum and then fuck you senseless. He can feel his balls draw up more and more, each time you whine, each time you plead for his name as a whisper. 

He flicks the tip meticulously, giving you attention everywhere and anywhere, just like he knew you’d like it. “You know, I usually would never do this on a first date,” He mocks, grinning all mouthy and you attempt to dive his mouth further into you, to shut his arrogant ass up, and that fucker resists, “But god, you’re an exception… just begging to be fucked, you deserve this honey, can’t be selfish with you.”

His licks are heavenly, sucking on your clit like a man possessed, and his name falls from your lips in such a filthy way that you don’t even care how pathetic you look anymore. You accept it, you let him take full control, trashing beneath him. 

“You like that, angel?” His words are muffled into your cunt, the pad of his thumb still circling around your entrance while he sucks on your clit. Your head sinks further into the softness of the bed, eyes squeezed shut, breaking apart with just his tongue. He moans into your soppy walls, sending a shock wave of pleasure to ripple through you. 

He doesn’t even need your words, the visual of you squirming underneath him is enough to have him all bricked up, you taste like the sweetest sin. Velvety walls so tight that it has him bucking his hips into the bed, desperate for some friction, he needs you. And he’s sure he never wanted someone this badly before. 

“So fuckin’ special, aren’t you? Such a desperate baby…” You can feel his bulge against your thigh, sitting prettily and throbbing against his boxers. You always heard how big he was, but fuck, you finally get to feel it, and it’s glorious. 

And he twitched in his boxers just from eating you out? God, he was fucking perfect.  

He dips his head just enough to muffle out a few more words, “I wanna taste you fully, angel. Want you to soak my tongue.” He dives in before you can reply, eliciting dirtier moans from you, alternating between his fingers and his tongue. 

He doesn’t care about anything else but you, he wants you panting for him, cumming all over his tongue while you scream his name. 

Your thighs start to shake once he pushes two fingers inside of you, gentle but rough enough to have you squirming and bucking your hips more into him, you’re at his mercy, and he loves how tight you are. Just the thought of your tight cunt milking his cock dry has his eyes rolling. 

“S-steve,” you breathe out roughly, enjoying how his tongue is licking up that sweet spot. “I know baby,” he taunts all cockily, admiring the way your thighs shake with need. You’re going to cum soon and that prick can feel it. 

“N-need to cum, please,” your pleading is unintentional, you just need a desperate release, and he’s so fucking good. 

“Cum for me, angel, be a good girl for me, yeah?” Your eyes squeeze shut at the praise, and he takes note of that, admiring the way you tighten around his tongue and fingers at the praise. 

His fingers are quick, making you scream out his name louder and louder. “That’s it pretty girl… cum for me.” Arrogant fuck, you wish to say, but the way he laps up your juices has you whining like a little slut. And his smirk grows wider, a wet patch forming on his boxers with how hard he’s straining them, pathetically needing to be inside of you. 

You tremble, trash, squirm beneath him, his touches and stripes of licks finally enough to have your stomach twisting, with final screams of “Steve!” and “F-fuck!” the coil inside of you snaps, orgasm overtaking you with such force that your eyes are glued shut.

A gush of sweetness trickles along Steve’s tastebuds, you taste so fucking good that it drives him even crazier, lapping up at your juices and not stopping until he’s sure you’ve collapsed under him. 

He’s grinning like crazy, lips all glossy with your juices, and he looks so fucking pretty like this. It makes you want to return the favor. 

So badly. And the need to know if the title Big Daddy Steve really suits him or not stirs your stomach, your core pooling with need. If it’s true, your mouth waters with the desire to have him, he looks delicious, and you know he’ll look much more yummy while he’s fucking your mouth, pretty praises leaving his pale rosy lips. 

The avoidant part of you screams at you to not do this, but your core is begging for more. 

Maybe, just maybe, you could return the favor but still toy with him, take control, and mess with his mind. 

Enough to have him begging, pleading for more from you. 

As if he can hear your dilemma, he drags you back in, wrapping his fist around your hair as he pulls you toward him and draws your bottom lip into his mouth, all teeth, sucking with an exaggerated hum, “Do you like the way you taste on my tongue?” He mutters against your ear, licking a stripe of your neck. 

Jesus, fuck. Now, you had to return the favor. 

“Tastes so sweet,” you giggle, you are going to suck him off, but you are going to lead the way now. A smirk gleams on your lips. Teasingly, your hands trace the edge of his boxers, enough to earn a rude whine from him as you squeeze him through the harsh fabric. 

You’re quick to yank his shirt off of him without a warning, and he’s quick to flaunt his well-muscled, heaving chest. 

Asshole. 

With a strong flip, you manage to straddle him, taking him by surprise while you grin at him, and to say Steve is intrigued would be an understatement, his cock twitches at your brow raise. “What are you doing, baby?” He still manages to be so cool that your thighs ache. 

“Returning the favor,” you shrug with a smirk, eliciting low grumbles from him when you lower yourself on his chest, leaving sloppy kisses, mouth tracing a trail that leads to his delicious v-line. 

You lift the elastic away from his waist, freeing his throbbing tip, the red tip slaps against his abdomen, and your brows pinch together in astonishment admiring it. 

Jesus fucking Christ, he was not all talk. 

King Steve, indeed.

You had to hand it down to those gossipy cheerleaders, they had described him to a t, perfect girth, slightly bent to the left, and big, really fucking big, you probably needed to use your hands along with your glossed lips to take all of him in. 

He chuckled at your expression, basking in the glory of your widened eyes, “Like what you see, angel?” Another taunt, but you ignore it with a smirk this time. Pooling saliva in your mouth, you spit on the angry tip, Steve hisses at the impact and watches with a low grumble once you wrap your palm around his shaft. 

He reveled in how perfectly your soft manicured fingers looked around his delicate bubblegum pink tip, attending to his every need.

Your warm fingers are working their way around his cock, coating his length with your spit as you tugged at it gently, causing his eyes to nearly roll back in his head.

He tries his best to swallow his groans, but his hips desperately jerk up at your hand, desperately fucking it, rendering you speechless.

“You like that, baby?” Your tone was teasing, and if he didn’t feel like he was about to explode he would’ve gripped your hair and fucked your mouth with such roughness that all that you would be thinking about would be his huge cock, punishing you for being such a tease, but he was the one wrapped around your finger now, literally.  

“S’big, Stevie,” you coyly batted your lashes at him, and a shuddered breath left your parted lips as you looked up at him between his thighs. 

He almost wept at the sight, shit shit shit, you were all of his dreams wrapped into one, and he could barely speak. Your palm easily glided down his length, saliva working as a lubricant as you teased him further. 

Your other palm was quick to cup his balls, massaging them and giving them a gentle tug, while your other hand still glided down his length, enjoying the way he struggled not to let out loud groans in your hold.

Without any other word, your head tilted down, quick to mouth the tip of his intense tip, it was almost hot to touch, waiting to be attended to, so needy. Just like him.

You swipe his tip, collecting his pearl of pre-cum gently. “Jesus f-fuck!” Pathetic coarse whines leave his parted lips, he lets you take control, eyes clenched tightly. 

You give his tip more kitten licks, trying to get your throat ready for his lengthy cock. “Just like that, honey,” He praises with his head thrown back, he avoids looking into your eyes, knowing that the fucked out look on your face as your pouty lips wrapped around his cock would be enough to have him spill down your throat in seconds.

And it would be a bit embarrassing for Steve, to lose his reputation to you in a matter of seconds.

“More…” He demands, but you ignore it while you continue your teasing sweet flicks on his tip, feeling him twitch around your tongue.  “Pretty girl,” He whines and jolts his pelvis for more, desperate and needy. Just where you want him.

“Mhmm?” You whine with your mouth full, it sends a rush of pleasure through him, “Suck it, baby,” he whines again, this time pained with need. Your greedy eyes smile up at him and he’s sure you have done something to him.

Because he never wanted to cum this bad before. He wants to wipe that smirk off your face while you gag on his cum, struggling to swallow all of it as it spills down your cheeks, glistening your breasts, ruining that gloss forever, and instead, you walk around with his semen all over your face and lips.

It pulls a twisted groan out of him, you make him feel so perverted and he can’t fucking help himself. You finally accept his pleas, and with one glorious tug, you finally wrap your lips around his cock, fully, getting teary-eyed each time you try to take more of his flesh.

Steve can’t help himself, his head is dipped down, and he immediately feels his balls ache at the visual of you, crystal tears staining your cheeks, and even then, that lewd look did not leave your eyes.

“F-fucking slut, just like that,” His groans are uncontrollable, hips bucking further into your mouth. You don’t let him yank you by your hair, just yet. You let your mouth adjust to him, sucking him deep and tight. 

“Such a good girl, suckin’ my cock with all she has, mmpf.” His praise has your core clenching, damn him. 

He admires your pouty lips fully wrapped around his flesh, sucking and hollowing your cheeks as you wail for him, “Shit, shit, baby, l-look so pretty with my cock down your throat, mmhmm…” He coos, words incoherent.

“Will look even prettier with my cum shooting down that throat, isn’t that right, angel?” You hummed in agreement, looking up at him with your dark, hooded gaze, an unintentional grin playing on your lips.

He mumbled a string of curses, praising you, worshipping you. You continued your stroke on his base harshly, working the head with your tongue, a new angle that had him go absolutely insane. 

“Mmmhmm, need your cum, Stevie.” You mumbled, momentarily letting your hand do all the work before you dove back in, taking his stiff cock deep in your throat, he had been struggling before, but your words were his last straw.

Because it was exactly what he fucking wanted, owning your mouth, and fucking it with ease. 

His palm turned into a fist the second he held your hair, yanking it down as he pushed you further down on his cock, enjoying the way it hit the back of your throat, you gagged around it, all teary and Steve’s head fell back in pure ecstasy. “Y-yes, yes, fuck!” 

“Gonna cum, baby, mmmpf, god-” He panted, his cock twitching more and more you sucked on him.

“Gonna fuckin’ s-shit-” He shuddered, thighs shaking while your throat continued to squeeze the tip of his cock, and once you gave his balls some more attention, he knew he was a goner. 

“Fuckin’ give i-it to you,” He barely let out when his eyes glued shut together, almost rolling to the back of his head when you gagged around his cock, with a glorious groan of “Fuuuuuck!” Steve came in your mouth, hips still bucking into your throat as a spurt of his warm load spilled down your throat, coating it nicely. 

You only let go of his softened cock with a ‘pop!’ sound once you made sure you sucked him dry, swallowing all of it while Steve watched you with such a dazzled look that it almost made you want to do more with him. But, no. This had been enough.

You enjoyed his salty taste in your mouth and the way his fingers and mouth worked inside of you. And that was enough for you. For now.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He grumbled a chuckle that had you grinning and winking at him. God, men really were easy. One blowjob and Steve was already looking at you like you were the most precious thing in his life. 

You had to go easy on him, tell him that you weren’t going to let him fuck you.

Because you got what you wanted, an orgasm, and the reputation of fucking “King Steve”, everyone would be gossiping about the two of you by now, it was a matter of time before that douchebag found out.

He tried to pull you in for a kiss, but you were quick to dodge it, getting up from the softness of the bed with a groan while Steve curiously eyed you. 

His brows were quick to pinch together, watching the way you easily slipped your tight dress on your body while you admired yourself in the mirror. Rubbing your lips together to fix your gloss, fingertips cleaning over the smeared mascara running down your cheeks.

“W-what are you doing?” He inquired, his face quick to fall down. 

You shrugged nonchalantly, “I want to go dance,” brows then raised in excitement “Ooohh! Maybe I could get some more weed, have you seen Munson around?” You questioned, that lustful look still dancing in your eyes.

“Uhhh…” he stammered, still confused on what the fuck just happened. “Y-yeah I think-”

“Thank fuckin’ god!” You hummed with a giggle, rushing over to his side, sloppily planting a kiss on his cheek, all shiny and smeared with his juices.

You were halfway through the door when Steve’s protests stopped you. “Wait, wait, wait!” He straightened up, softened cock and all, his glistening chest was begging to be touched, but as you decided, not today.

“What the fuck? I thought-”

“What?” You asked cluelessly, brows raised. 

“We were just getting started, angel,” He tried, but his voice wasn’t as arrogant or confident as it was before, and it took you so much to not let your lips twitch into a smirk. 

One orgasm and he was already broken? Steve was fun to play with it.  

Your giggle at him would’ve felt mocking if you didn’t do it so prettily, Steve just watched in awe. 

The poor boy. 

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, would you?” You tilted your head with a pout. Oh, you were good, he had to give you that.

Because once he literally got a taste of you, he wasn’t going to stop. 

His lips kissed his teeth, it was surely hypocritical of him to think this was unfair since that’s what he always did to other girls. 

“But–”

“See you around, pretty boy,” you cooed, throwing a wink toward his way, and shutting the door with that. Leaving Steve all alone. 

He had never felt this way before. The way his cock twitched just the thought of you again had his mind flooding, you used him, gave him the best fucking head of his life, and then left. 

Maybe this game would’ve pissed him off if someone else did it to him, if it was any other girl he would’ve lost interest, thinking she was trying too fucking hard, but it was you.

And all it did was drive Steve crazier, and make the chase all the more fun, and Steve was nothing, if not persuasive. 

[bee-wg]

Year 4:

Beep Beep Beep Beep

“Oh my god, uncle! You’re gonna burn the house down!” Theo yelled.

“David, What happened? Is your hand bleeding?” Mom screamed

“Ahahaha, it’s nothing Chloe, don’t worry about it. I was just trying to make everyone a surprise breakfast,” Dad said.

“It’s nothing? There’s fire on the stove!” Mom said frantically.

“I got the fire extinguisher, don’t worry. Just a little mishap,” Dad said, trying to cheer them up.

“Uncle, you’re bleeding all over the fire extinguisher! We need to get him to the hospital,” Theo said.

“Hahaha, I guess I am a little clumsy,” Dad said.

Beep Beep Beep

“Someone please turn off the fire alarm, it’s stressing me out,” Mom asked

“What’s happening?” I asked, half asleep in my Pajamas.

Sometimes life surprises you, one moment, you were having a sweet dream. Then, you’re driving your bleeding father to the hospital in Pajamas. The new SUV does feel nice to drive, at least.

“I’m fine, guys. I think it must be the sugar. If I would’ve put more in it, this wouldn’t have happened,” Dad said.

“David, I love you, but don’t you EVER pull stupid stunts like that again,” Mom said, leaning on Dad’s shoulder.

Apparently, Dad wanted to surprise us with waffles for breakfast and thank Mom for all the delicious food she made. He was also hungry for a snack, so he broke Mom's one rule: Don’t mess with her kitchen.

The doctor said he could remove the cast in two months, about the time Theo and I graduate. He already got an internship in a restaurant, bringing home some fancy leftovers. 

Mom has not let off her sight from Dad since we got back. She gave him a firm warning and pinched his cheek. Now Dad gets ice cream and meals delivered to his mouth without lifting a finger.

I wish someone would do that for me. Imagine not having to leave the bed and constantly having sweets in your mouth. That would be a dream.

My thoughts disturb me sometimes. 

Since winning the competition, I have accepted that I will never be muscular again. The original plan was to savour everything I could for a year, then go on a diet. Mom and Theo have slowed down with the food so that I won’t eat until my stomach is about to burst, but they won’t refuse if I ask for something.

Now I am close to 500 pounds with my stomach always growling for more. I guess it’s just another fat ass behaviour I would have to accept.

Since losing weight is out of the question, I have figured out a way to keep my core muscle fit enough to support the enormous belly in front of me. It’s simple, I stick an 8-inch dildo from Seven’s house to my chair, and I would sit on it when I’m playing video games or watching a movie. When the itch gets too much, I can use my core muscles to lift myself up and down. This way, I get to work out and get off. It's not good for the chair, but who cares? It’s reinforced.

***

It was a regular lunchtime when Brad broke into my house again. Usually, he would greet my parents and head straight upstairs to perform witchcraft for all I care, but today, his footsteps are leading to my door.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Brad is the kind of asshole that does not knock. I still have the dildo in me!

I panicked and pulled up my pants before getting off the dildo.

He came in right as I flopped my belly down to cover the fact that my pants were not fully pulled up.

“Sup,” I said.

“Sup, Jay,” he reached out his fist for a bump.

“So, you know our last season of football in college just ended,” he said. 

Brad walked to my left to sit on my bed.

I rotate my seat to face him so he doesn’t see my ass hanging out in the back.

“Oh, fuck!” I yelped.

Fuck, the dildo twisted in the movement, now poking my prostate. 

“You okay, dude?” Brad asked.

“Of course, continue,” I said with the best smile I could muster.

“The guys are celebrating, so it’s like the last party for the team, and I was wondering if,”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll go,” I said quickly.

“Oh, that’s it? You usually don't like to go out or like- move at all,” he said, then stood up.

His sudden movement startled me, and the dildo jerked deeper.

“Are you sure you’re okay, dude?” Brad said, walking closer.

“I’m all good bruh, don’t worry,” I said.

I can feel my hole tensing, almost swallowing the dildo whole.

“I just don’t want you to be angry at me for fucking your cousin. If you want me to stop, I will,” he said.

“You what the who?” I said, baffled.

“I’m fucking,”

“Ew no, don’t tell me. I’m fine as long as you never mention doing that with my cousin ever again,” I said.

He let out a breath.

“Well, that’s something out of my chest. I’m going up now. I’ll come here and pick you up tomorrow night,” Brad said, rushing out the door.

I let out a breath too.

The locks will never be open after this traumatic experience.

My ass is still tingling, so I quickly fuck myself with the dildo to get over with it.

***

The drive to the house has been excruciatingly slow because Brad is a cautious driver. It leaves a lot of time to think without food distracting me.

I am now extremely aware of the bright yellow Pikachu face stretching across my belly. There aren't many clothes that fit me, and it’s been a while since I went out, so I didn’t bother buying new shirts. 

I haven’t seen them in a while. They’re gonna think I’m fucking lame.

“Dude, snap out of it. Everyone there misses you. I didn’t invite the assholes,” Brad said.

“…I guess.” 

“You’re doing the arm-scratching thing again, haven’t seen you doing that in a while,” Brad said.

“I’m going to put on some music, and you’re going to stop thinking, okay?” Brad added.

“Yeah, okay,” I replied.

When we opened the door, Marcus the quarterback greeted us, and half my worries melted away. 

He is about 300 pounds, which feels skinny to me now. At least I’m not the only fat one.

Now that I look into it, not everyone has defined abs. I don’t know why I expected everyone to be runway models. Even Brad is softer around the middle.

“Dude! Where have you been?” Aiden yelled.

“Oh shit, you look humongous, my guy,” Braxton said.

We quickly got back into the groove we had two summers ago.

Brad booted up a party game, and we tried our hardest to destroy each other.

We also caught up on what each of us was up to this past year, or what to do with our future. Aiden wants to marry his girlfriend, Marcus wants to join his boyfriend’s band, and Brad wants to be a freelance artist alongside his side job.

When the night came, They ordered some Chicken wings and pizzas.

“Fuck yeah, trash food! No more diet from Coach,” Aiden said, taking away half the pizza.

“By the way, I bought extra pizzas to see how much we can push ourselves,” Brad said.

I have a bad feeling about this.

“Of course, if it’s too much, we can always count on Jay,” Brad laughed.

There are six of us, with twenty large pizzas. I am screwed.

“It’s just some pizzas, no big deal. I can beat Jay easily,” Braxton, the most muscular guy in the group, said.

“Hahaha, don’t underestimate him, my dude,” Brad replied.

Except for Marcus, all of them are wimps. They started groaning and bitching after a few slices.

“Damn it, how do you make it look so easy,” Aiden asked.

“There’s a technique to it, dumb ass. I trained for this shit,” I answered.

Aiden then passed out from the food coma after six slices. 

Two more people soon followed after him.

Brad is on his way to his second pizza. His stomach has never looked this bloated before. Marcus is trying his hardest on his fourth one, but the guy is barely hanging on.

When the seventh pizza box emptied, I was stuffed beyond belief.

The guys woke up and refocused their energy on me to finish the rest.

“There’s only two left, people. Finish it,” I said, pointing at the boxes.

“We’re not on your level, Jay. You’re like, a pro at this,” Aiden said.

“Yeah, man. Only you can do it,” Brad said.

Braxton handed the pizza box over, and they started feeding me slice by slice.

“Come on Jay, you’re better than this,” Aiden said and rubbed my belly.

These people have no personal boundaries like always.

I am beyond capacity after the eighth one.

This was most likely a fucked up plan by Brad to show they don’t care I’m a fat ass. I still believed they wouldn’t like me because of my size until a few hours ago, now it seems ridiculous to reject all those party invites last year. Well, maybe I was up to something because now they’re trying to suffocate me with pizzas.

When Aiden stuffed the last of the slices in my mouth, everyone cheered.

Tonight was absurd, but I got my friends back. When some guys were not happy for a fat guy to be on the team, they stopped hanging out with me. I thought I was a lost cause.

“Dude, you better come back next time,” Aiden said.

“I’m gonna beat you next time, Jay. Watch it,” Braxton said.

“Awesome to have you back, man,” Marcus said.

It reminds me of that summer when we hung out by the river every time the fast food party room got too suffocating, when my worries were carried away by the water. 

“Thanks, Brad. For doing this,” I told him once we got in the car.

“No problem, I’m always here,” he answered.

I must have gotten too sentimental, or pizzas are clogging my brain, but I opened my Instagram and tabbed Recent in the search bar.

It seems like he made some new decorations for the coffee shop. 

I scrolled down to see the picture of the beach.

“Stop scrolling like a creep, Jay. Just call him,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“He’s still waiting for that coffee,” Brad said.

“You still talk to Ave?” I asked.

“This is fucking depressing to watch, Jay. You guys were best friends,” he said.

“You know, I was kinda jealous of you guys back in the day. I was the skinny guy who got bullied on the side, and you were the guy on the team who still takes the time of day to befriend me. I only had you, and you also had him. It’s frustrating seeing you throw that away,” he finishes.

He doesn’t understand though. I’m a hypocrite who ignored Ave when he got fat. I don’t deserve his attention.

***

It’s been two weeks since our graduations and Dad getting his cast off. Mom has been working full-time, trying to figure out what we could do as a family to celebrate. It’s proven to be difficult when there are two 500-pound whales in said family. We can’t fit into any amusement park ride, and we’ll sink into the bottom of the ocean if we go to the beach. So, the rational thing to do is a picnic. At least that’s what I suggested. But Mom insisted a camping trip was the best family bonding option. For two whales.

It’s fine, I thought to myself. We have done this plenty of times.

After stuffing Dad in the front seat and the emergency food boxes in the back of the SUV. Mom explained the bags of medicines she bought like a flight attendant with the safety instructions. She must have been traumatized by Dad’s injury. He’s not allowed to do anything remotely dangerous, like moving his hand to eat. Hence, the army medical packs.

Mom went through the bottles of fox spray, bear spray, mosquito spray, sun spray and pepper spray, and then we finally got moving.

On our way there, we had some intermissions at the gas stations to replenish snacks. Theo whined it, but this was all his fault anyway.  If only he hadn’t grown our monstrous appetite, and forced musical soundtracks to be played in the car for hours, I might have skipped over a few snack breaks.

Recently, my weight has stabilized at about 520 pounds. Thank God my exercises on the chair worked; otherwise, I’m going to blow up on my way to the camp. 

“Guys, Brad said safe trip, and he’ll miss us,” Theo said.

“He probably only meant you,” I replied.

Theo has been giggling for an hour straight, looking at his phone.

“I’ll miss you, Bradley. The signal’s breaking off. See you soon!” Theo said.

We set up the camp in a few hours. By the time we were done, the sun had already set, giving the mountain an orange hue. 

Today we’re going up to Sunshore Lake. It’s going to be a steep walk, but I’m ready to flex my athletic prowess.

It was not a good sign that I was already sweating before arriving at the entrance.

“David, this is a bit steeper than I remembered. Do you guys want to stay down here?” Mom said.

“Nah. Jay and I will do it. This is a piece of cake compared to what we used to do. Right, son?” Despite not having to walk for more than a year, Dad remains confident.

“Hell yeah, Dad. Let’s show them what we're made of!” I said.

I give up. We’re a third of the way through, and I can feel my belly weighing me down.

“Come on -huff, son, you -huff-can do it!” Dad said, looking worse than I do.

Theo looked at us and chuckled.

“Guys, I’m so sorry! I should’ve known this was too much,” Mom said, panicking.

“It’s- it’s all good, Chloe. Remember you married the- huff- Star athlete back in college?” Dad smiled at Mom and gave her a thumbs up.

“Need a hand?” Theo asked me.

“Isn’t that too much?” I motioned to our luggage on his back.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” he swung my arm behind his shoulder and carried me.

He’s been doing that more often than not when I couldn’t get up. Probably the reason he got all those muscles under his shirt. What happened to the noodle arm ginger?

“Thanks, man. I guess I don’t have to roll back down there,” I said.

When we were halfway through, Dad told us solemnly.

“I- I don’t think I can make it.”

“Noooo, David I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for things to end this way,” Mom said with tears in her eyes.

“I love you guys. You’re the light of my life. I am honour to be a husband, a father, and a-” 

“Dad, you’re not dying. We’re almost there,” I said.

“Is it too late to call an emergency helicopter?” Mom asked.

“David, I love you, but I really don’t want to touch you right now. Can you pull through yourself, baby?” Mom said, looking at the sweat ball that was Dad.

Theo burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help but join too, even if I was in an equally dire situation.

When we got to the top, everyone was exhausted. 

We cleaned ourselves up with towels, and Mom went to check the Kayaking information. 

Dad and I were too big for it, as expected, so we went to find a good spot for fishing.

“I’m so excited. I have never kayaked before!” Theo said, looking as refreshed as ever.

Before we set up our fishing gear, they eagerly ditched us.

The Lake looked as calm as ever. It's boring with little going on.

Mom and Theo are probably in the middle of the lake now.

Staring at the stale water, I realized Dad was not perfect. He’s a little stubborn, clueless sometimes, but that’s what I like about him. I don’t know if anyone would find my quirks appealing. if Ave would.

I’m just a Lazy food addict who basically lives in his mom’s basement, so maybe not.

“Jay?” Dad said.

“What’s up, Dad?” I asked.

“You think too much, buddy.”

“You were always an overthinker since you were a toddler,” Dad said.

“I remember you told me you wanted to play football instead of hockey because hockey will give you frostbites, and freeze you into those Neanderthals from the museums,” Dad said.

“Oh Gosh,” he still remembers.

“You know what?” Dad said, then quickly took off his shirt.

“Let’s go for a swim,” He said with a smile.

“But the fishing,” I said.

“Don’t worry about the fish,” He said, walking back and charging towards the water.

The cannonball created a massive splash, making me completely wet.

“Mother of God, it’s freezing! Did you see that, Jay?” He said with a laugh.

“Yeah, that was pretty cool,” I chuckled. It’s not every day you see a chunky beast jumping into the water.

“Come on, Jay, take it off and jump!” he said.

I have not taken off my shirt in public since middle school, when I started to notice my flaws. Even in the locker room, I would find a bathroom stall to change.

“Don’t overthink it, Jay! Trust me!” Dad said.

Don’t overthink, I thought.

I took off my shirt and back off. When I pick up the pace, my entire body is wobbling.

With all the strength I have, I jumped.

Shit, this was a bad idea.

The cold water hit me.

First, nothing but white bubbles clouded me. Then, schools of fish surrounding me appeared in my vision, hurrying away from the meteor strike. I moved my legs slightly apart on the lakebed, so I don’t step on the tiny crabs while they take refuge in the kelp forest.

“Holy Fuck, it’s freezing!” I said as I pulled my head out of the water.

“Hahahaha, watch your mouth, Jay. You don’t want to summon your mother here,” Dad said.

The view down there was breathtaking; it was what I expected, but not. The fish looked different from a simple change of scenery. I wouldn't have known if I had never jumped.

“I’m proud of you, Jay. That was a huge splash. Aren’t the views here amazing?” he said.

“Thank you, Dad. I wouldn’t have done it without you,” I said.

“You did it all by yourself, kid,” he replied.

We kept exploring the lake until our stomachs growled in protest.

After setting up the fire, we roasted some fish in the bucket and made S’mores from caramel marshmallows. 

Theo and Mom joined and we talked about the stories we had at school or some embarrassing stories of me Dad has kept.

The next day, we packed up our stuff to leave. The mountain is beautiful and all, but Dad and I are starving for some real food.

On our way down, I realized that I had been the biggest enemy to myself. There are so many supportive people surrounding me when my self-doubt overshadows them.

The signal bars slowly appear one by one. I opened Avery’s profile picture.

If he rejects me, I’ll be embarrassed in front of a person I really care about.

I shouldn’t overthink.

There’s nothing more I can lose when I already lost his company.

So I texted.

“Hey, Ave. I know I’m late, but would you mind if I take you up on your offer for the coffee?”

“...” a text bubble appeared.

“I thought you'd never ask.”

[willowsnook]

hi! could i get a scotch with lime in a copper mug? 💞✨

lando norris x mclarenrookie!reader

just shut up and come here

-----------------------------------------------------------------

With Max’s car starting to falter, Lando knew he had a real shot at competing for the WDC. As the season progressed, he’d become the favorite, and it finally felt like his time. There was just one problem: you.

In your rookie year in F1, you were holding third place, just 40 points behind Lando. Exceeding all the team's expectations, you’d proven to be a real competitor — and Lando wasn’t pleased. To him, the strategy should have been obvious: you were supposed to help him beat Max. But you saw it differently. After all, you were only 80 points behind the leader, and Zak and Andrea had decided to let things play out between the two of you, which only heightened the tension.

What started as a friendship had quickly soured after you overtook Lando to win in Hungary. Furious, he stormed into your driver’s room after the podium celebration, his eyes blazing.

“What the hell was that?” he snapped, voice sharp.

You didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze. “A clean overtake,” you replied coolly.

“You’re screwing up my chances at the championship!” he seethed, his tone bitter.

"You do realize that I also have a shot at it?" You questioned. "Not my fault that I'm faster than you either."

At that, he got in your face, practically radiating anger. “Just stay out of my way,” he bit out before stalking out of the room.

It was the first of many heated clashes, and even Zak was starting to worry about the tension between his drivers. Things only escalated after your win in Baku, when Lando stood stony-faced on the podium, arms crossed, barely acknowledging the celebration. The media had a field day, and McLaren’s PR department wasn’t happy.

Seeing his growing frustration, your initial resentment slowly turned to concern. His behavior was spiraling, and it seemed no one was willing to address it — except you.

“What’s going on with you?” you demanded one day after a rough qualifying session, pushing open his door to find him pacing.

“What are you talking about?” he snapped, but you didn’t back down.

“You’re being a brat to everyone! It was fine when you were just an asshole to me, but this is getting out of hand.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied venomously.

“If you need someone to talk to, you know McLaren has plenty of resources,” you said softly, trying a different approach.

“I don’t need your help so just fuck off,” he said and you backed off.

That didn’t stop you from giving your own therapist his email, instructing her to email him nonstop until he set up a session. Something must have worked because in the break before Austin, Lando did some press about his struggles with mental health and you heard that he’d bought gifts for the whole garage team as an apology for his behavior.

You two still didn’t really talk but he gave you a head nod now as a hello and there wasn’t much tension between you in front of the media anymore.

Then, on the Thursday before the Austin GP, during your post-free-practice interviews, a reporter brought up Lando.

“Y/N, any thoughts on Helmut’s recent comments?” they asked.

You raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, I don’t keep track of what everyone’s saying.”

“He claimed that Lando has ‘mental weaknesses’ preventing him from being a real championship contender.”

You stiffened, feeling anger bubble up. “Yeah, interesting,” you started, your PR manager nodding, likely expecting you to stay professional. Too bad for them. “Honestly, he can go fuck off.”

The press buzzed with shock, and your PR manager hurried over, but you went on.

“Red Bull’s looking for anything to distract from their own mess. It’s 2024, and criticizing a driver for being open about mental health is pathetic. We’d all be a little better off if they put him in a nursing home Lando’s one of the most talented drivers out there, so Helmut can shove it. Thanks.”

You walked off, ignoring your PR manager’s frantic scolding.

Later, after the team debrief, you headed to your room, ready to call it a day. But outside your door, you saw Lando waiting, his expression softer than usual.

“Are you okay—?” you began, but he cut you off, stepping forward.

“Just shut up and come here,” he murmured, pulling you into a hug. You rubbed his back as he buried his head against your shoulder, his voice muffled. “I owe you so much. And after what you said today… even more.”

“This stuff is hard, Lando. Sometimes it feels like the whole world’s on our shoulders.” You pulled back to meet his gaze. “I like it better when you’ve got the energy to actually fight me.”

He laughed softly, then hugged you tighter. “Can we… start over? As friends?” he asked, his voice tentative.

You smiled. “Of course — but only after I win the championship.”

He groaned, but his eyes sparkled with humor. “In your dreams, rookie.”

[hederasgarden]

On the Horizon (1/?)

Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.  Pairing:Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader) Word Count: 2.5K  Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, flirting, and asshole!Scott. Future chapters will be smutty. Not all themes are tagged. A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary and @ryebecca @mermaidxatxhear @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for their beta help. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ Glen Powell Character Masterlist

It’s sweltering in the midday sun and you wipe the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you yearn for the cool, controlled environment of the labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology isn’t even your specialty; you’re here for your engineering skills to manage the specialized equipment the team relies on for their data collection.

Perched on the tailgate of the Storm Par truck, you have a clear view of the other storm chasers clustering around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual. 

"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.

When you look up again, you catch Tyler watching the two of you. You know he’s more than likely looking for a chance to provoke Scott, but to your surprise, he offers you a wink and pulls down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.

You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he quickly dashed those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team, the sting of his criticism lingering.

Clearing your throat, Scott’s eyes briefly land on you before returning to the computer screen. 

"What?" he demands.

"I was going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”

"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively. 

When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station. The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air. 

"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?” He questions, amused. 

"What?"

"Your boss," he clarifies. 

"Oh, he's um...he's not my boss. Javi is."

"No?" he asks, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."

Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.

"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.

You stare at him, unsure how to react to his comment and the suggestive tone. Before today, you’d barely spoken to him, although you get the impression that his flirtatious nature is just a normal part of his outgoing personality. Thankfully, you’re spared from having to figure out how to respond when the doorbell jingles and someone calls your name.

It’s Scott. 

"Owens," he bites out. 

Your lips part in a surprised inhale as he places a hand on your shoulder and stands so close that you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your arm. Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile. 

 "Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."

Once he’s gone, Scott moves to stand in front of you "What did he want?" he demands.

"Oh, nothing. Just...saying hi."

Scott tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.

When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his blue eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. Turning back, you find his intense dark blue eyes locked onto yours. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you realize you have Scott’s full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.

You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.

An opportunity arises to put your plan into motion later that night. Nearly everyone has descended on the only motel in town, but no one seems interested in staying in their rooms. Music pumps from Tyler’s red truck and another group grill burgers nearby. Alcohol is flowing freely as different teams mingle.

You spot Scott busy inside the Storm Par command van, completely absorbed in his work. From experience, you know any attempt to pull him away would be pointless, but spending time with Tyler just might. You linger at the edge of the parking lot, trying to muster the courage to approach the Tornado Wrangler crew. They’re sharing beers and laughing, but when you look closer you realize a lot of them are still working in some way or another. Lily has the inner workings of her drone exposed, tinkering while Dani and Tyler look like they’re securing something to the side of his truck.

Suddenly what felt like a great idea earlier now seems silly. So does your sundress and the time you spent making yourself look nice. Any attempt to enact your plan would mean intruding on their little bubble. Besides, you’re not even sure this hairbrained idea would even work on Scott a second time. 

You turn to head back to your room when Tyler calls out, “Hey city girl, you want a beer?”

You freeze, eyes closing briefly as you realize there’s no turning back now. You’ve been spotted. When you face him again Tyler is watching you with a casual, expectant smile. He leans against the hood of his truck with one arm draped over it.

“Come on, we don’t bite,” he encourages. 

“Not unless you ask us to,” Boone chimes in, earning a collective groan and playful slap to the back of his head from Dani.

Someone tosses you a beer, and you fumble to catch it. It’s icy and slippery. Tyler watches you with a raised eyebrow as a slow, amused smile spreads across his face. You’ve never felt less cool in your life and you end up looking anywhere but him. 

“Hey…you’re an engineer right?” Lily calls out. “You wanna take a look at the wing here? She’s giving me some trouble.”

You glance at the Storm Par van, half expecting Scott to come to scold you for even considering helping the enemy, but he’s still inside. 

“Tin Man seems pretty tied up with his work,” Tyler observes. “I think you’re safe to join us, Dorothy.”

You blink, both surprised and a bit embarrassed to realize just how obvious you must be. “Uh, yeah, I can take a look,” you tell Lily.

She grins, shifting back on her heels. You follow her over to the truck to examine the drone. Lily talks you through everything she’s already tried so far with Cairo and you ask her a few questions in return. After a bit of trial and error, you identify the issue. Thankfully it's a quick fix. 

Boone lets out a low whistle, impressed. “You know, if things don’t pan out with the corporate overlords, I bet Ty would offer you a spot on our team.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, watching Tyler round the truck and draw closer to you.

“I’m a much nicer boss than Scout,” he promises.

“He’s not my boss,” you remind Tyler. “And his name is Scott.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he intones, holding your gaze with an intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but the way he’s looking at you.

You let out a nervous little chuckle, realizing that you hadn’t actually planned for anything beyond capturing Tyler’s attention. Glancing down at the beer in your hands, you fiddle with the label until Tyler takes the bottle. He twists off the cap and hands it back without a word.

You offer him a quick, “thanks,” and take a sip. The lukewarm, hoppy flavor tingles on your tongue. You make a face.

“Not a beer girl?” Tyler asks, drawing back to give you a thoughtful once-over. He hums consideringly. “No, you strike me as a rosé-all-day type.”

“Actually, I’m a whisky girl,” you lie, grinning at the surprised blink you get in response.

“I must be losing my touch,” he confesses, leaning into your space and letting you catch the faint scent of his cologne or deodorant—something sharp and clean like the ozone that lingers in the air after a storm. “Unless, of course, you’re just messing with me,” he continues. “But you wouldn’t do something like that, would you, city girl?”

The way he stares at you suggests that he’s not just talking about your choice of drink. Before you can stop yourself, you look over his shoulder, searching for Scott. Tyler doesn’t turn to see what has your attention. He doesn’t need to, you realize.

“A lesser man might take that as a blow to his ego.” His tone is teasing as he uses two fingers under your chin to gently guide your gaze back to him. “Lucky for you, darlin’, I’m a big boy.”

A prickling warmth spreads across your body, and your jaw muscles tingle with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. You must have been horribly transparent in your attempt, you realize.

“I’m not…I didn’t,” you stumble over your words as Tyler’s smile grows.

“The decent thing to do is ask,” he encourages. He cranes his neck behind him and you see Scott’s finally noticed the two of you together. “Better make it quick, he’s on his way over here now.” 

“What?”

“You know what,” he replies, tapping your nose.

Panic settles in, your reluctance to admit what you were trying to do warring with your desire to get Scott’s attention. “Okay, okay, fine,” you relent. “I’m trying to make Scott jealous.”

You can see Scott over Tyler’s shoulder now, his expression dark. He’s second away from being in hearing range. “Tyler. Please.”

“Well since you said the magic word.” 

He turns and in one smooth motion throws his arm over your shoulder to draw you in close. That seems to surprise Scott whose pace slows as he approaches. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest as you gaze up at him, acutely aware of Tyler’s body pressed firmly against your side.

“Hey, Scooter,” Tyler greets. “Want a beer?”

Scott’s cheek ripples in annoyance. “No,” he says curtly. 

“Suit yourself.” Tyler shrugs. He grabs the bottle in your hand and takes a long drink from it before handing it back to you. “Nothing better than a cold one after a day of chasing storms.”

Scott’s nostrils flare and he utters your name in a clipped tone. 

“Uh, I better go,” you tell Tyler. “Thanks for the beer.”

“Well, I hope to see more of you later, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink. 

The second you’re within reach, Scott’s hand is on your upper back and quickly moves to rest at the base of your neck. You feel a little like an errant school child with the way he guides you past the rest of Tyler’s crew, whose goodbyes are decidedly less enthusiastic than their welcome. Boone glances between you and Scott, making a face that you can’t quite decipher.

“I thought you were headed to bed early,” Scott accuses as soon as you’re out of earshot of the crew. He’s tense beside you, fingers flexing against your skin. 

“I was but then the Wrangler crew invited me to join them for a beer.” He doesn’t need to know you sought them out for your ill-conceived plan. 

Scott scoffs, moving in front of you. He stares down at you. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time with those hillbillies.” 

“They aren’t so bad,” you defend until he pins you with a quelling look. You know Scott well enough by now to drop the topic, even if his words don’t sit quite right with you. Tyler and his friends were nothing but kind to you tonight.

“Storm Par can’t be seen spending time with those amateurs. It’s bad for business. You should know better.”

You realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not jealous — he’s just angry. He’d probably be just as upset if another member of your team was seen mingling with the so-called enemy. How could you have been stupid enough to think talking to Tyler would make him want you again? 

“Come on,” Scott urges, seemingly intent on walking you back to your hotel room. 

At the door, you wave the card over the keypad and shoulder the old, warped door open. Before you can turn to bid Scott a good night a hand on your hips pushes you forward and he follows you inside. The door shuts and he plucks the keycard from your hands, thoughtlessly tossing it on the bedside table.

His mouth is on yours before you can speak, his hands grabbing at the hem of your sundress. The shift in his mood is enough to disorient you and you don’t resist when his tongue invades your mouth. The back of your knees hit the bed and then he’s on top of you, warm and solid. He pulls roughly at the strap of your dress, his teeth nipping at the exposed skin. When you feel his hand land on your inner thigh you push at his chest. 

“Wait, Scott,” you breathe. This feels nothing like your last time together. 

He pulls back, a tick in his jaw as he stares down at you. “It's been a long day,” he says, “and we both know you want this.”

You do want him, more than anything, but there’s something about his tone and words that dredge up an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. It makes your skin prickle, and you avert your gaze, suddenly uncertain. Above you, Scott sighs, and you feel his fingertips gently touch your jaw. You think of Tyler suddenly, his teasing tone and the amusement in his green eyes. When you look back at Scott, his unreadable blue eyes meet yours. 

The bed creaks as he shifts back. “I can just go,” he offers.

“No, please don’t.” The words escape your lips before you even realize you’ve spoken. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. Scott’s the kind of man you always dreamed about, handsome and intelligent – one of those Ivy League boys who never looked twice at you in college. 

“Good answer,” he says with a smile.

You pull him closer, and as his lips find yours once more, the lingering discomfort fades away. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted.

 Aren’t you?

Part 2

♡

I no longer have a tag list, please follow @hg-library and turn on notifications.

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader

Summary: Max and Lucas are tired of their friends silently pining over each other but never making a move, so when the Winter Formal rolls around, they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluffy fluff

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Happy anniversary to the love of my life, @corroded-hellfire 💚 one year ago today, we met in person for the first time, and my life has been infinitely better ever since. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than Dustin loves his Weird Al shirt. Red, this fic is for you.

Divider credit to @saradika

“Kill me now.”

Three words uttered by none other than Max Mayfield, sliding her lunch tray onto the table and sitting down with an irritated sigh. 

You look at her with an amused grin. “What is it this time? Bombed a pop quiz? Got detention for flipping off a teacher—again?” Her brazen, flippant attitude provided many entertaining moments, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of it. 

Max shakes her head, spearing a limp macaroni noodle with her plastic fork. “I wish.” She holds up two tickets to the Winter Formal. “Lucas is dragging me to this bullshit. ‘All the other basketball guys’ girlfriends are going,’” she mocks him in an octave much lower than his actual voice, “so I guess that means I have to follow suit.”

Bringing a hand to your heart, you jut out your lower lip in mock-pity. “Oh, no; your boyfriend wants to show you off at a school dance! How will you ever survive?” 

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “You could go, too,” she says, blue eyes pleading. “Keep me company when the guys inevitably bail to get wasted in the woods.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t need a date,” she insists, reading your mind before the words can leave your mouth. “I’m telling you, Lucas is gonna ditch me as soon as Jason and Patrick show up.” She takes your hand between both of hers. “Please? I’ll even tell Ms. Kelly the lengths you went to for your poor, troubled freshie.”

You exhale, knowing that she doesn’t need to go to all of that trouble. You’d started off the school year as her peer mentor, but just a few months later, you two have become close friends. “Fine, I’ll go,” you acquiesce, laughing when she pumps her fists victoriously. “But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

You return to your own lunch, completely missing the mischievous look that graces her freckled face. 

Unbeknownst to you, a similar discussion is had at Hellfire Club later that same afternoon. 

“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Sinclair, but I wouldn’t be caught dead at some lame dance.”

“Seriously,” Jeff smirks from his position across the table. “He’s never been to a single one in his ten years of high school.”

Eddie flips him off casually. “It’s only six, asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not dressing up in some penguin suit to drink unspiked punch with a bunch of shitty people.”

“C’mon, dude,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on a whine. “If you don’t go, I’m gonna be stuck with the jocks all night, and they just wanna suck face with their girlfriends.”

“And you don’t?” Gareth quips. 

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Not in front of everyone. And I don’t need a front-row seat to their performances, either.” He turns his attention back to the Dungeon Master. “Look, I’m desperate. Mike’ll be visiting his grandma and Dustin’s grounded because of his D-plus in Spanish.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “What about Huey, Dewey, and Louie over here?” he asks, gesturing to the three remaining club members. 

Their collective responses are jumbled excuses; Eddie swears one of them says he’s going kayaking—in mid-December in Indiana—but he doesn’t bother to sift through their lies. “You owe me, Sinclair,” he declares, pointing his forefinger at the underclassman. “Big time.”

The next few weeks leading up to the Winter Formal are spent meticulously making plans. For someone who seemed so disinterested in this dance, Max is paying careful attention to each detail. 

You walk out of the dressing room in a velvet emerald green dress that hits just above the knee. Max is beaming as she adjusts the off-the-shoulder sleeves and smooths down any creases. 

“You look really nice,” she says, nodding her head. She’s trying to temper her enthusiasm, but you can sense her excitement. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Lucas? Why would he care?” He’s a nice kid—more in tune with emotions than the average fourteen-year-old boy—but that doesn’t constitute an interest in your fashion choices. 

Max’s cheeks burn as red as her hair. “Uh, well, seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing me happy makes him happy, so…everyone’s happy?” she finishes lamely. She clears her throat as if expelling the awkwardness from the conversation. “Anyway, let’s buy this dress so we can look for shoes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You’re not fully convinced, but you brush it off and steel your nerves to ask a question. “Is anyone else gonna be there that we know?” You really want to know whether Eddie Munson is going to be there, but you can’t say the quiet part aloud. 

“Probably,” she shrugs, a bit too quickly, but she’s pushing you back behind the curtain to change before you can inquire more. 

“Why does this stupid tie need to be green?” Eddie asks, sifting through the store’s selection with Lucas by his side. 

“Uh, Christmas colors,” Lucas stammers, fumbling for a decent explanation other than the contents of his secret phone call with Max earlier today. “And, y’know, red is way overdone, so…” he trails off lamely, going back to the display table and hoping Eddie drops the matter. 

They find exactly what they’re looking for—not without Eddie complaining about putting in too much effort just to be a third wheel—and make their way over to the food court. Eddie makes a beeline for the Pizza Hut when he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit, Sinclair; we gotta go,” he says urgently, clapping a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and steering him away from the fast food. 

“What the hell? I’m hungry!”

Eddie shakes his head, curls brushing against his shoulders. “Look, man.” He discreetly points to his left, where you and Max are giggling at the Orange Julius. “We can’t let them see us.”

“Dude, she’s like the nicest person ever,” Lucas rebuts. “Even Max likes her, and Max pretty much hates everyone.”

“That’s not the problem.” Eddie rakes his ringed fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags one on a knot. “The problem is that she’s gonna be all, ‘hi, Eddie; what’re you doing at the mall?’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘just picking out a tie for the Winter Formal.” And then she’ll go, ‘oh, who’s your date?” And then I’ll have to say, ‘I don’t have one; I’m just playing babysitter to some freshmen like a goddamn loser!” He hops back and forth to indicate each character change.

“First of all, ouch,” Lucas quips, “second, go hide in the bathroom if you want, but I’m getting something to eat.”

Eddie exhales an exasperated sigh, giving in and schlepping over to Pizza Hut, one of the few times in his life that he’s trying to be inconspicuous. 

You pull into the school parking lot on the night of the Winter Formal and shift into park before killing the engine. Max is bouncing her leg up and down in the passenger seat, lower lip tucked between her teeth.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask, mistaking her excitement for anxiety. “You know that Lucas would think you look beautiful even if you showed up in a potato sack.” You furrow your brow. “Where is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with us?”

She mumbles something about not wanting her mom to ask any questions about the relationship, and you take them at face value. Her eyes light up when she spots her boyfriend walking into the school alongside…Eddie Munson?

“Eddie’s here?” you ask in a hushed whisper, feeling sweat prickling under your arms. You’ve been nursing a massive crush on him for ages–one that Max is very much aware of. And now he’s here, dressed in a black suit with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. “Max, why didn’t you tell me? Who’s he going with?” The idea of him slow dancing with someone else has your stomach turning.

Max just shrugs. “I don’t think he had a date.” Too casual, too blasé–she knows something. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She swings the car door open enthusiastically, leaving you shell-shocked in your seat.

“Maxine Mayfield!” you hiss, using her full government name to drive home your bewilderment, but she just skips ahead. Damn your heeled shoes, slowing you down before you can catch up to her. When you finally do, she just grabs your hand and tugs you towards the guys.

She poorly feigns surprise, jaw dropping as she exclaims, “Eddie? What are you doing here? Oh, my gosh, this is such a coincidence!” She pulls you closer, smiling far too wide. “Lucas and I both brought our upperclassmen friends! What are the odds?”

“Yeah, so weird,” Lucas says, not as loud as Max but just as transparent. He looks at Max before regarding you and Eddie. “Okay, well, we’re gonna go dance–bye!” The two of them scamper off, leaving you alone with Eddie. If their stilted dialogue wasn’t evidence enough, the way Eddie’s tie perfectly matches your dress certainly clears up their intentions.

Eddie speaks first, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and nervously swiveling his body. “I, uh, think we’ve been set up,” he says with a small, awkward chuckle. “I swear, it wasn’t my idea. Not–not that it’s a bad thing, I just meant, like, if you’re uncomfortable with this, I don’t wanna be held responsible.” His cheeks burn red. “Shit, I need to stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with your own kind laugh, “we might as well make the most of it. Get some punch and make fools of ourselves out there?” You gesture towards the gym’s makeshift dance floor; the band has just started playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” Eddie’s nods, following you to an empty space, and you timidly drape your arms over his shoulders. Taking care to avoid an inappropriate touch, he rests his palms on the small of your back. 

His voice is low when he murmurs in your ear, “you look really beautiful tonight.” He clears his throat and speaks again. “You always look really beautiful, though.”

The two of you sway to the music, swapping shy smiles and fleeting but longing glances. As the song ends, you look over your shoulder. “We’re being spied on,” you report, noting the way the two younger kids are watching you from across the room. You consider your next words before eventually deciding to go for it: “Did you talk to Lucas about me as much as I talked to Max about you?”

“Probably more,” Eddie laughs, bringing you a bit closer. “But I’m interested in comparing notes.”

You nod, staving off any lingering nerves. “Maybe after the dance, we can split a burger from Benny’s and discuss?”

Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he says; you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I’d like that.”

--

[divinesolas]

Shots

summary: you’ve been best friends with jacaerys since you were children but due to his recent girlfriend you two have barely spent anytime together. You two are forced back into the same space when you attend cregan starks party and tensions rise

r.q: Nothing specific but please give more modern jace w smut. Your work is so gooddd 😩

w.c: 2k

c.w: porn with a little plot, a little angst, modern!college!cregan, modern!college!jace x reader, cregan the miracle worker, oral (f!receiving), protected sex (WRAP IT UP!), not proofread

a.n: i have a couple requests im supposed to get done before this but when i saw this in my inbox it wouldn't leave my mind 😭 love you guys hope you enjoy 🫶

You didnt want to come to this party tonight but cregan had practically begged you to come.

‘i dont know cregan.’ you had told him while walking out of your shared lab class. ‘oh come on itll be fun,’ he pauses and thinks for a moment before having a devious grin on his face. ‘if youre worried about it i promise you wont see jace. he said hes busy’ you eye him and he swears hes not lying so you shrug and tell him sure you’ll be there leading him to hug you before running off.

its not like you hated jacaerys, you couldnt the two of you are best friends. Well you're currently unsure of how the two of you stand, his current girlfriend seemed so determined to be rid of you and you didn't want to get in the way you backed off not wanting her to feel uncomfortable but its since left you feeling strange.

You should feel happy for him, he's found someone he seems to like but instead you’re left with a sharpness in your chest anytime you think about him and someone else. You like him. No maybe you love him but he clearly doesn't seem to like you like that so you can never tell him that. You're happy he isn't at this party and is busy doing whatever he’s doing. You decided you need to take your mind off him, you can keep yourself stuck in your head over this and you certainly cant be crushing on a taken man.

Now youre stuck talking with this guy, something Lannister you don't even know his name, but he seems more than eager to be talking with you and for that a part of you is grateful you didn’t have to work to hard to get a guys attention.

“Wheres the bathroom?” “Ill take you to one.” He grabs your hand harshly and begins to lead you to the staircase. You tug at the hand hes stuck holding and attempt to get him to let go telling him you dont need him to hold you. He says something about it just being quicker and you should just follow him. This rings alarms in your head and now your gripping the rail and forcefully trying to get out of his grip. “get the fuck off me!” “just shut the fuck up and come with me.”

“What the fuck do you think your doing man?” Your eyes widen in shock at his voice as the lannister scoffs at him, “just trying to take the lady to the restroom velaryon.” “she doesn't wanna go with you man let her go. and theres not a bathroom up there.” He walks up to the other guy and shoves him back his hand lets go of yours and with your new freedom and you quickly put a distance between you two. The lannister mumbles some shit under his breath and ends up walking upstairs alone, “she isnt even worth it.”

“are you okay?” jace quickly rushes back over to you and grabs your hand check it looking at you alarmed. “im okay thank you jace.” He lets out a sigh of relief and takes a step back running a hand through his hair. You just stare at him and your heart races, god hes so hot wearing just a pair of shorts and an open white button up with his whole chest out, the necklace you had given him for his birthday a couple years ago sits nicely on his chest, his hair is wet and even so is his chest leading you to realize he had been out in the pool. He was at this fucking party. Cregan that fucking asshole. “i thought you weren't coming.”

He tilts his head at you and shakes his head, “who told you that?” “Cregan.” He hums and turns away for a second mumbling some stuff under his breath you swear you hear something about cregan being an ass before turning back to you. “He must have gotten the dates mixed up.” All you can do is nod and play with your fingers, its awkward. You have never felt awkward around jace so this was different, of course your own feelings have to come around and ruin everything. While you look down at your hands you dont notice that hes just staring at you with a starry eyes. “You want a drink?”

You look up at him and you feel hot finally noticing his gaze on you, “sure.” The two of you make your way to the kitchen where you walk past cregan who gives you a wink as you walk by that fucking asshole, what was he even trying to do? As you watch jace you cant help yourself, “hows… oh whats her name?” you mumble the last part under your breath unable to even remember the poor girls name. He just hums and hands you a cup, “Claire? Oh we broke up.” you gasp and look at him shocked, “oh my god im so sorry.” he smiles at you and shakes his head easily tossing the shot into his mouth. “She cheated on me, you know that guy mason,” “the guy in the photography course?” “yeah with him,” “he looks like her cousin,” “thats because he is her cousin.” you gasp in horror on of you hands flying to cover your mouth as you try not to laugh.

He laughs, and makes a fist to cover his mouth, all you can think about is how beautiful he is, “You can laugh you know its funny.” with his permission you dub over with a laugh and shake your head, “thats unbelievable.” “imagine my shock!” “Im still sorry by the way, thats really shitty.” He continues to look out in the distance as he takes other shot, “its alright love i was gonna dump her anyway.”

You take a sip from your cup and just watch him, “why? thought you liked her?” For the first time in awhile he looks over at you and you take notice of the affectionate look in his eyes as he smiled softly at you. “i realized i liked somebody else.” “Ah.” you look away and you feel him move closer to you and grab you chin to look at him. “You wanna know who?” “Jace..” Hes standing so close you can smell his cologne, his hand leaves you chin and runs down your arm. “Ive known her for a long time but i only just realized how much i love her, I’ve been a fool.”

You kiss him, reaching your hands to cup his cheeks, he deepens the kiss his hands grabbing your waist to pull you closer to him pressing you directly against him. You dont know how long youve been standing there just kissing him, when you two pull away to take a breath you can hear a get a room from someone who walks by and you remember youre just standing in some random guys kitchen and press your head into his neck. “this is so embarrassing.” he just laughs and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You wanna come back to mine?” His implications are very clear to you especially as you feel his hardness pressing against you, you nod.

Not even thirty minutes later he had you laid out bare on his bed, his mouth latched onto your clit leaving you desperately clinging onto his hair as you throw your head back, “jace.” he hums as he brings one of his hands down to play with your folds as his other stays firmly on your stomach pressing you down onto the mattress.

as you get closer your hands stray from his hair and fist the newly washed sheets under you as you continue to call out his name. you've been with a couple guys in the past but none pf them compared to how jace had been making you feel, none of them made you quiver and shake when you came like he did. he mouth finally detaches from you and he sits up looking at you while licking his lips. “That good?” You slap his chest and continue to take some deep breaths, “fuck you.” “i will i promise.”

His shirt and shorts had been thrown off somewhere, probably out laying in his hallway along with your clothes. He quickly slides a condom on before climbing on top of you so his necklace is dangling in front of you. “You good?” you nod at him and he kisses down your neck and leaves kisses all over your breasts. “Need you jace.”

“you need what baby?” you groan as you feel him push his dick between you fold lightly rubbing up and down. “Please jace.” “what is it? tell me and ill do anything for you.” He looks at you expectantly and you let out a strained moan as you begin to beg him, “please fuck me jace please please.” he hums happily and quickly readjusts himself, “You only needed to ask baby.”

You feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest as he thrusts into you, as your hands grip his his back and running down it as he continues to thrust, thats definitely going to leave a mark. but based on the hiss and groans he lets out that tells you he likes it.

You swear youve never felt so good, he continues to hit the deepest and sweetest parts of you. He fucks you so fast and hard you're shocked the bed under you stays intact, he brings one of his hands down to your clit and your hands dig into his lower back and you cant help but press your head to his shoulder. “Jace fuck jace.” your mouth his muffled against his skin but he acknowledges you by bringing his lips to yours into a harsh kiss matching the thrusts of his hips. “Wanted this for so long jace.” he groans and you swear he somehow begins to move faster, “me too baby me too, now that i have you ill never let you go,” he licks at the sweat that has dripped his way to you neck and his hands move to grip your waist, “gonna fuck you everyday, i promise fuck best pussy in the world.”

You whimper at his words and your head is once against pressed against his shoulder, “im so close.” “cum for me baby please i need to feel it,” he hisses as he feels you bite into his shoulder and his eyes rolls back into head, “im right behind you fuck cum please.”

“i love you.” the words leave you easily as you cum. He cums at the sensation of you releasing, “fuck i love you.” leaving him twitching and still as he huffs and puffs, out of breath. he pulls out with a hiss and lets out an apology as he sees you wince, he climbs out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom, getting rid of his condom and coming back with a towel cleaning you and him up before climbing into bed next to you.

“fuck that was good.” the two of you laugh and you roll yourself to look at him. “did you mean it?” he hums and draws shapes on your stomach, “mean what?” “that you love me?” He looks at you with a dumbfounded look, “are you serious?” you rolls your eyes and try to turn away but he grabs you and pulls you close to him pressing your face against his chest, “of course i love you you idiot.” you smile and press a kiss on his chest before you fall asleep.

when you wake up the next morning and check you phone you see some text from cregan from last night.

‘saw you leave with jace just now 😁’

‘you’re welcome you bitch 🫶’

[sexilene]

kinda need some 80s slasher jj pleaseee!! like maybe he tries to apologize but like reader avoids him and that gets him mad!! thank you angel!

oooh! absolutely!! i literally love anything 80s you have no idea, i love talking about it!! (ignore the spelling mistakes, i'm exhausted lol)

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - non con, cock warming, blood, death, violence, obsession, squirting, slight breeding kink, gun mentions, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹

"it's almost 1 in the morning jj, go away!" you whisper yell at him, lightly pushing his shoulder to get him to leave and climb back down your balcony.

"i tried to talk to you all day. you kept walkin' away from me…what's up with that?" he whisper yells back, not budging, he walks closer to the balcony window as if he's going to enter your room.

"i was about to go to sleep jj."

"nah, your light was on." he shakes his head.

"go away please!" you plead with him, hoping it is enough to just leave you alone.

"hey, you're not scared a'me? are you? cause, you don't need ta'be. i'm still the same jj."

"you killed someone!" you back away from him, placing your hand on the handle of the balcony door.

"well okay, but i apologized that day in the car and i've been trying to talk to you and apologize again, you were the one who kept avoiding me." he reasons, holding the door open with his hand.

"i accept your apology, now please go!" you whisper yell again.

"nah nah nah…you don't mean it, i need you to know that i fucked up n'i'm sorry."

"that you killed danny?"

"no, that you saw that i killed danny…look your my frie- no your my girl and i had to do somethin' cuz that asshole was just-" you put your hand up to get him to stop rambling "jj stop." but he just takes the opportunity to push past you and walk into your room.

"never saw your room before…y'like janet jackson?" he laughs softly and points to the poster on your wall and then looks over at the cassette tapes on your dresser. "…and madonna huh?"

"jayjay my parents are gonna freak if they wake up and find a boy in my room!" you grab onto his arm, trying to drag him back out.

"ya' got any dirty movies?" he diverts his attention over to your little tv on the other side of your dresser.

"seriously! beat it!" he sighs dramatically and lets you walk him back over to the balcony. "fine. see ya tomorrow then?"

"yes. yeah…you will, goodnight," you assure him, watching as he nods, satisfied with your answer he climbs back down the side of your house.

you tried you best to smile at him when you happened to cross paths or make eye contact but you just couldn't help avoiding him, i mean he did still totally freak you out. you had just about survived the day without having to talk to him but then on your way back to your house you see him leaning against his truck, parked on the side walk. you decide to just pretend you don't see him and walk right past him.

"hold it." he grabs onto your arm tightly, stopping you from walking away. "…listen, i don't know if i was a total dip for apologizing cause the whole point was t'get you to stop ignoring me, and clearly the message was not received. " he squints, obviously not very happy with you.

"i was just super busy and i had a major test to study for so thats wh-"

"no no hey, don't worry about it babydoll, i know how you can make it up t'me," he loosens his grip on your arm and gives you a charming smile, dimples showing and everything.

"o-ohkay…what did you have in mind?" you begin to relax at how his demeanor has changed, hopefully, you think.

"rented this gnarly tape n'i wanted to watch it with you. your folks home?"

"no…they don't back tonight till 3 in the morning…big dinner benefit thing, they usually get drunk and stay really late into the night…" you ramble.

"right. great. i'll drive you home."

"ohkay jayjay…thank you," you respond shyly as if you two had just met and he was asking you on a date.

"so which movie did you rent?"

"its a surprise, think you'll reaaaally like it."

"i like most movies…want anything from the kitchen? water, beer…"

"m'good, i just put the tape in, cuhmon, i'll be gentle with you." he sits down on your bed and pats his lap for you to come over and sit on. you nod slowly and sit right next to him, so he grabs your waist and scooches you over onto his lap, your ass right up against his gradually hardening bulge.

"jj…what are you doin'?" you take your eyes off the tv and look down at his hand coming to flip your skirt up and feel that you're not wearing any panties, giving him full permission to rub on your pussy.

"shshsh, just focus on the TV, princess." you ignore his actions like an idiot and figure at least he's being gentle with you and focus back on the TV, the camera in a POV angle following a guy with his hands up defensively.

"what are we watching?…" you whisper, trying to push jj's hand away from your pussy, but obviously that doesn't do anything. he smacks your hand away and goes right back to touching you.

"it's a movie i made…see there that's your ex-boyfriend, talked him into the role," he whispers back, clearly very interested in what's on the screen…and playing with your pussy. the next thing you know you watch as your ex-boyfriend gets shot in the face and then shot more times in the chest, blood going everywhere.

"ohmygod jay-!" you scream, shutting your eyes and covering your mouth with one hand, while the other tries to get his hand away from you so you can get the hell off of him. he ignores your attempt and tightly wraps his other arm around you to keep you in place.

"holyfuck you're so wet." he laughs, dipping two fingers into your embarrassingly wet cunt, the intrusion making you mewl and turn your head away from the screen and the gory mess being shown.

"nah uh, keep watching." he tuts, moving his hand away from your princess parts and over to his jeans to pull his dick out to put inside you.

"i don't want to watch this anymore! i don't wanna-"

"don't care whatcha don't wanna do, worked hard to do this for you babe…so you're gonna sit here on my cock and watch the fucking movie i made for you." he grunts, lifting you onto his dick, the stretch and fullness you feel is unreal, you have no choice but to sit there and soak his fat cock.

"no!" you cry, tears starting to gather at your waterline.

"yeah…she's likes it, she's squeezing me reaaaaal good baby. jj presses a wet kiss to your cheek and wraps his arms around you again to keep you there.

"turn it off, please! please!…"

"y'gonna quit ignorin me, cupcake?"

"uh huh…i swear just please!"

"it's almost over, keep watchin." but you just can't, squeezing your eyes shut you try to block out all the noise and just focus on not cumming on him, not wanting to give into him. yet, there's no use, cause now he's got his three fingers pressing down on your little clit, rubbing it fast and hard.

"jayjay!" you squeal, digging your nails into his arm that is around your waist, as you cum hard around his dick. when you blink your eyes open the tape has finished and you notice all the liquid sprayed on your sheets.

"oh ho…there she is, squirting on my cock like a dumb slut.” he smiles and presses a little kiss to your neck.

"not on birth control are you?" you can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears as he continues to softly rub your clit.

"yo, i'm talkin to you." he spits, slapping your cheek a few times with this big warm hand to get you to respond. a few more tears spill down your face and respond with a weak whisper. "no, m'not…m'not…"

"maybe y'should be." he grunts softly before dumping his huge warm load in you just from cock warming.

[simpforboys]

you’ve bewitched me

xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: xavier takes your virginity.

warnings: smut!! loss of virginity, unprotected piv, soft!xavier, he’s a fat simp, fluffy smut, best friends to lovers, oral (f and m receiving), swearing

based on this !!!

the way you couldn’t get out of xavier’s head was driving him insane. he never knew he could need crave someone so bad. 

he remembered the moment so vividly. 

you two were walking in the rain as he held the umbrella for the both of you. you didn’t remember exactly how the topic came up, but you and your best friend had started talking about sexual experiences. 

“a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” xavier joked you rolled your eyes and nudged his shoulder, making the both of you laugh. 

“just tell me,” you groaned. 

“fine. bianca wanted me to eat her out once. things escalated from there and we ended up fucking.” xavier confessed, keeping his eyes down. 

your gasp made him jump. “damn... my best friend gets hella pussy then.” you joked as he sarcastically rolled his eyes, face blushing in embarrassment. 

“now what have you done?” xavier asked you. 

you pursed your lips together. the sound of the rain falling with leaves crunching filled the silence. 

“go on,” xavier said. your silence was making him nervous. 

“i’m a uh, a virgin.” 

xavier bit the inside of his cheek while nodding at you. 

‘thanks for the silence, asshole.” you said jokingly, trying to ignore the way your face felt hot. 

xavier was trying to ignore the blood rushing to his pants. 

xavier had been in love with you for years. he’d dated other girls to try and get over you, but they never ended up being you. 

but ever since your confession, he couldn’t help but want you even more. the amount of nights he’d spent jerking off to a vision of you in his head, the way he would do absolutely anything for you. 

xavier was so lost in thought he didn’t even notice his phone dinging. the only thing that snapped him out of his daydreams was a knock on the door to his room. 

 he opened the door to see you standing there, eyes wide and anxious. 

“why haven’t you been answering your phone?” you asked him. you pushed past your best friend as he confusedly shut and locked the door behind you. 

“busy thinking. what’s wrong?” he questioned. 

“you know that siren boy, kent?”

xavier nodded, eyebrows furrowed tightly together in hesitation. 

“he asked me to come to his dorm to do... things.” you said in embarrassment. 

xavier bit his tongue so hard he didn’t even realize it was bleeding slightly. 

“what things, y/n?” 

“he asked me to give him a blow job.” you confessed quietly, sitting on xavier’s bed as his tall frame stood in front of you. he was wearing grey sweatpants with a red shirt on, his hair damp from a shower. 

the pang of jealousy that shot through xavier felt almost like a stab in the gut. 

“so why are you here then?” xavier asked, trying to keep his cool. 

“i need, uh, never mind. it was stupid for me to come here.”

“answer me, y/n.” 

“i’m scared, okay? i’ve never done anything like that before and i guess i just wanted... i don’t know... lessons?” 

xavier’s heartrate spiked tremendously. oh my god. 

“i’m sorry-” you began but xavier cut you off. 

“i mean, i can definitely help.” 

“really?” you questioned, staring straight up at him. your stomach hurt from anxiety and you swore you’d never noticed how gorgeous your best friend was until he looked at you with such lust in his eyes. 

“is this okay?” he whispered, leaning down as his left hand moved to cup your jaw. you nodded against his hand as he kissed you. 

you kissed back, the feeling weird. it felt like electricity was connecting your lips together, an addictive feeling. neither of you could get enough of it. 

xavier moved to lie you down on the bed, his lips not leaving yours. 

your own hands pulled his waist close to you, feeling his hard cock on your thigh. holy fuck, this is happening. 

“are you sure you want this?” xavier mumbled against your neck.

“mmm please, yes,” you gasped as you felt him suck a hicky.

he stopped momentarily to remove his shirt. his heart was racing as you also removed yours. he’d never seen you in a bra before and the look of your tits made him start to drool.

the way he stared at you made you feel incredibly nervous and as you tried to cover yourself up, he began sucking hickies along your boobs.

“xavier,” you whimpered. xavier swore that was the hottest thing he’s ever heard in his entire life.

“you’re so pretty, y/n.” xavier told you as his big hands removed your sweatpants and panties.

you undid your bra and suddenly realized how vulnerable and exposed you were. but yet, xavier made you feel safe.

you watched as his head went between your already shaking thighs and sucked teasingly close to your cunt.

“holy fuck!” you accidentally yelped as his tongue came in contact with your clit.

you felt him smirking against your pussy as he ate it like it was his last meal. your back arched as you gripped his hair.

the feeling of having your pussy getting eaten by your best friend was euphoric and you were on cloud 9.

“that feel good, y/n?” xavier hummed.

“so good, please don’t stop,” you begged.

the new pleasure was too much. you were a shuttering mess as he continued to suck your clit, two fingers stretching out your soaking wet pussy.

“i’m already gonna cum-“ you moaned.

“cum for me, y/n.” xavier’s pride was beaming as he watched you squirm for him. he was so fucking hard for you.

your body trembled as your orgasm hit you like a truck. your breathing was heavy and your skin was damp with sweat. 

xavier moved to sit back. 

“do you still wanna learn about that blowjob?” he asked after you calmed down from your high. you nodded as you got on your knees in front of xavier. 

your heart continued to pound. you shakily gripped his hard cock. xavier immediately noticed your nerves. 

“what’s wrong?” he questioned, worry written all over his face. 

“i don’t really know what i’m doing.” you let out a breathy laugh. xavier smiled from your confession, leaning down to kiss you. 

“i’ll help you. start by licking the tip.” 

you followed your best friend’s instruction. you began to lightly lick the tip of his leaking cock and felt him shudder against you. 

“fuck- now try sucking the head and jerk me off in your hand.”

you brought the head into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks. your right hand began to jerk the base of his cock, feeling xavier’s own hand come up to hold your hair back. 

“good girl. holy shit-” xavier whimpered. 

the sight laid out in front of you was engraved permanently in your brain. xavier, your best friend, with his head leaned back as you sucked his dick. he looked like a fucking god and you knew there was no going back from this. 

you started to gradually suck further down until you felt his dick twitch in your mouth. fighting the gag, you desperately focused on trying to get him to cum in your mouth. 

“so, so, so good for me, y/n.” 

tears formed in your eyes as you gagged on his cock. hearing xavier whimper  your name with praises almost made you cum again. 

“i’m so fucking close, if you don’t wanna swallow it then- oh shit.” xavier spurted hot cum into your mouth. the liquid tasted salty but not in a bad way. 

now it was xavier’s turn for his breathing to be jagged. you stood back up, your naked body in all its glory. you laid down on his twin size bed, his eyes following yours as you spread your legs. 

“please take my virginity, xavier. please.” you begged. 

xavier’s whole body was overwhelmed with ecstasy. “i don’t have a condom.” he breathed out, his body now hovering over yours. 

“i don’t fucking care- i need you so bad.” 

xavier kissed your lips again. you held his hand as he rubbed his tip and down your cunt. “tell me if you need me to stop.”

with that, he slowly pushed in. your pussy was so wet it was almost went in with one motion. he went all the way in slowly, watching your face for any sort of discomfort. 

“oh my god-” he whispered. your pussy felt amazing on his hard cock and all he wanted to do was fuck you. but this was about you. and he didn’t want to ruin this intimate moment for you. 

“you okay?” he whispered against your neck. 

“it feels weird.” you mumbled back. you felt stuffed, yet so needy. 

“can you please move?” you asked. 

xavier started to slowly move his hips in and out. his hair fell in front of his face. 

“fuck-” you moaned. 

his hand came down and rubbed circles against your clit. your body felt extremely hot from the overwhelming amount of pleasure it was receiving. 

“you feel so good. my good girl, right?” he asked, eyes looking directly into yours. 

you nodded quickly. “i’m all yours, xavier.” 

he continued to fuck your cunt. the only thing that was heard was the sound of skin slapping skin, both of your moans, and the bed squeaking. 

“i’m gonna cum again, xavier.” you announced. 

“me too,” he mumbled. the pleasure was becoming too much for him as your pussy clenched against him.

“holy fuck- shit.” your second orgasm overcame your body. xavier kept his finger on your clit, fucking you through your orgasm. when he felt his own, he quickly pulled out and jerked the tip of his cock. warm cum spurted out onto your stomach and his hips bucked against his hand. 

he plopped down next to you, both breathing heavily and tired. the temperature of the room was very hot and humid. 

after a couple moments of silence, xavier whispered, “i love you, y/n. not in a friend way. i want to be more then friends.”

“i love you too, xavier. i want to be more then friends.” 

xavier leaned up on his elbow, looking down happily at your face. 

“let me take you out tomorrow?” 

“it’s a date.”

xavier and you both smiled as he leaned down and kissed you once again. 

“also, fuck kent. i’ll tell him to go fuck himself.” 

you laughed at xavier’s attitude. 

“if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have been here.” you murmured, drawing circles on xavier’s chest. 

[erwinsvow]

Orrr shy reader dying of embarrassment (but not really) when rafe has a jealousy fit

- 💓

you paw at your boyfriend's arm, trying to pull him away. your face is flushed with heat at the scene in front of you—rafe pushing some random boy at the party against the closest surface, slamming his head onto a table and holding him down. there’s a crowd forming, which makes you want to curl up into a ball and cry on the floor, because there’s nothing worse than crowds.

you stand corrected, because you’re realizing there is something worse—rafe getting angry at some stranger for talking to you and choking him out. 

it’s a little silly of you, to completely ignore what everyone had been telling you about rafe, but you had done it anyways. all the talk about his temper and aggression had been easily forgotten when he treated you so sweetly—attending to your every need, changing the way he talked to make sure he didn’t spook you into thinking he was upset, being incredibly understanding when you froze up or started crying. 

the rafe others talked about was exactly that—just for others, never for you.

“y’like botherin’ innocent girls? huh?” you squirm at the sight of the boy in pain as rafe presses his head down, bending his arm behind his back. the boy tries to stay something back, but all that comes out is tortured noises. “i should break your arm. that’ll be a lesson.”

it’s all too much for you—yes, the boy wouldn’t leave you alone while rafe went to get you a drink. yes, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, not even i have a boyfriend, told to him while staring at your shoes. you still don’t think he deserves this, because he’s in a lot of pain, and your boyfriend is the one causing it.

“rafe, c’mon,” you plead again, pressing your hand to his back, trying to pull him away. your soft grip does nothing. “please, rafe, i wanna go, i don’t like this-” 

rafe loosens his grip on the stranger’s arm, letting it fall. he picks him up by the back of his shirt, pulling him to look at you. you take a step back automatically, getting frightened, but rafe nods at you to come closer. 

“s’your lucky day, asshole. my girl doesn’t like fights. tell ‘er sorry..” the boy mumbles something but rafe shakes him again, until the boy looks at you and sputters out an apology. he lets him fall back, and guides you away. you notice all the people staring, the boy probably staring daggers at rafe. you want to look back—go back and apologize yourself to everyone, even to the boy bothering you, like you’re used to doing—but rafe grips your waist tight and doesn’t even let you turn your head. 

back in his truck, you’re all shaky breaths and watery eyes. he thinks that would have made him mad once upon a time. not now.

“c’mon, stop cryin’. what’s wrong?” he sounds gentle, and you almost forget what he just did.

“y-you scared me. it was scary.”

“you got nothing to be scared of.” he doesn’t sound upset with you, but you still worry that he is, with the way your shoulders are still quivering. he knows you, knows how your little brain spins when you’re afraid he’s getting mad. “you’re my girl, i have to protect you, okay? that’s my job. just doing my job.” 

you look up at him with your wet eyes, holding eye contact for longer than you usually can, before looking back at your lap, playing with your hands.

“thank you. m’sorry, rafe.” rafe puts his hand on your chin and uses it to tilt your head up, until the two of you are looking at each other again.

“why’re you sayin’ sorry?” 

“because…if he hadn’t talked to me nothing would have happened. and i feel terrible. and your knuckles probably hurt, now.” he holds back a laugh as best as he can, but you still notice it. 

“none of that was your fault. stop apologizin’ for shit you didn’t do. my knuckles are fine.” he wipes a spilled tear away from your cheek. “m’not gonna let someone treat you like that. even if you don’t care. i fuckin’ care. got it?”

“got it,” you murmur back, looking up at him with big, hazy eyes. you don’t think you were ever upset at rafe, just upset that it was even happening. but now, in the comfort and safety of his truck, you take in the meaning of his words—how much he’d do for you, how much he cares, how you don’t have to feel bad about it. “can i come back home with you?”

“sure, kid. wanna watch a movie?”

“no, i wanna make it up to you.”

[lacroixwh0r3]

The First Taste

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You meet Joel, your dad's best friend, for the first time after your dad begged you to join them at the lake to keep Sarah company. Both you and Joel become fascinated by each other the moment the two of you met.

Warnings: SMUT!!! DUB CON, heavy sexual tension, drug usage (weed only), petnames, age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 21), masturbation (F and M), fingering, voyerism, daddy kink, dom!Joel, Joel is a perv and an asshole, cursing, swimming??, no outbreak

Song inspo (feel free to read if you want): The First Taste by Fiona Apple

PART 2 PART 3

A/N: This takes place four years before Blow My Load, but can be read as a standalone.

Please share, comment, like, and reblog...enjoy lovies! <33

"Dad, I thought it was supposed to be a "boy's trip," and the last time I checked, I am not a boy." You point at your body as you tell your dad. For some reason, he is begging you to come to the lake with him and his friends the day before they leave. "Why won't you just tell me why you want me to go? And maybe I'll give you an answer."

You finally got him to crack.

Your dad let out a defeated sigh as he scratched the back of his head and avoided eye contact. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever bullshit your dad was about to say. "Well, you see, honey, one of the guys couldn't get a babysitter for his kid, and I offered you to keep her company." He winced.

And there it is. The thing he was holding back from you

You let out a sarcastic chuckle. You really couldn't believe this shit. "Are you serious, dad? I refuse to babysit some random kid because you offered me up without even asking me first!" You exclaimed at him. "I don't even know a damn thing about this kid."

"Look, I know it was wrong for me to do that, sweetheart, but I swear Sarah is a good kid. Most of the time she has her headphones in and minds her business." He tries to reason with you, almost pleading with you. You began to feel bad for blowing up on him like that, but it really did piss you off that you had to watch someone else's kid. "I'll even pay you."

This weekend, you planned on doing nothing but self-care. You wanted to do nothing but stay home, watch movies, get a mani and pedi, go get a massage, drink, and maybe even play with the new toy you just bought yourself at Spencers.

You feel yourself giving into your dad; it wasn't the money that made you say yes, but the fact that he always found a way to make you feel bad, even if he didn't mean to do it. "Ugh, fine!" You scoff as you turn to look away from him. From the corner of your eye, you can see his body perk up.

Your dad lets out a sigh of relief, saying, "Thank you so much, sweetheart! You're such a lifesaver; you know that, right?" He slaps your shoulder playfully, causing you to shrug it off and narrow your eyes at him playfully as well.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. How old is your friend's daughter, anyway?" You asked him, unfazed by it all.

"I think she's around 14?" Your dad said cluelessly. "Not too bad, right? I'm sure that you can find something to talk about with her."

It wasn't that bad, but what the fuck would you, a 21-year-old, have in common with a 14–15-year-old girl?

"I guess. I'm gonna start getting my stuff all packed up," You tell him as you turn around to go up to your room.

"Alright, sweetheart, and thanks again!" He exclaims to you as you make your way farther up the steps.

"Yup!" You yell it out dismissively.

As much as you hated the circumstances, you were happy you were finally able to get away for a little bit.

...

It was the next day, and you were tired as hell after only getting four hours of sleep. You had spent all night packing and stressing about what you were going to wear. It wasn't like you were trying to impress anyone, but this was your first time meeting your dad's friends, and you wanted to look decent.

You had left it up to your dad to pack your things into the car as you were too tired to do anything besides shower, put your clothes on, and lay back down for a little until it was time to go. As you lay face down on the bed, knocked out, you heard your dad knock on the door. "Hey, kiddo, are you ready to head out?" He asked you as he stood at the door.

You slowly sit up on your bed as you yawn and stretch your arms over your head. "Yeah, let me just get up and grab my purse and stuff."

"Got it." Your dad says this before turning around and making his way downstairs.

After moments of sitting on your bed, stairing into space, you got up, grabbed your purse, and began to leave your room. However, on your way to the door, you see the pouch that contained your weed and weed paraphernalia. You hesitantly swiped it from your dresser, dropped it into your bag, and went downstairs.

If the men got to have their fun, why couldn't you?

Once you get to the last step, you hear your dad saying bye to someone on the phone before turning to you. "My buddy, Joel, just got to the lake house, so we should start headin' out." He says this as he grabs his keys and motions for you to follow him to the door.

After making sure the security alarm was set and locking the door, the two of you were finally on your two-hour journey to the lake house.

...

You and your dad finally made it to the lake house. It was a three story house that sat on top of a hill, surrounded by nothing but trees.

You and your dad hop out of the car and start bringing your bags to the front door. All of a sudden, the moment you sat the last bag down and brought your fist up to knock at the door, it swung open, revealing a man who looked to be in his early 30s with short, dark, curly hair.

Beside him was a woman with long locs, smiling warmly at you. Meanwhile, the man looked at you with confusion, trying to piece together who you were. You looked familiar to him, but he couldn't put a name to your face.

"Tommy!" Your dad said loudly behind you. You could hear the excitement in his voice as he greeted him. Tommy's eyes moved to look behind you at your dad, and his eyes lit up.

"Oh man, y'all come on in!" He opened the door wider as he and the unnamed woman moved out of the way to allow you to walk in first, followed by your dad. "I'll grab the rest of the bags out there." Tommy says.

Tommy brought the bags in as your dad greeted the lady. "Hey, Maria!" He asked her as he gave her a side hug. "I didn't know you were gonna be joining us this weekend as well."

So that was her name.

"I didn't think I was going to be joining either. Tommy invited me last minute, so I just decided to take some time off of work," She replies back.

They stood near the entrance as they began to get deeper into the conversation, talking about God knows what, leaving you standing there awkwardly as you watched them. You decided to take that moment to observe the room. Even though the house was spacious, it still had a cozy feel to it.

As you were in your own world, your dad gently slapped his hand on your shoulder unexpectedly. "And this young lady right here is my daughter." He smiles at the two as Maria and Tommy turn their attention to you.

"Nice to meet you, kid," He says as he offers his hand to shake yours, which you accept. You shake hands with him before dropping them to your side. Tommy then points to Maria. "This is my wife, Maria."

You shake hands with her as well while you tell them your name. "It's so great to meet you two!" You beam at the couple.

They begin to ask you a series of questions about yourself, such as what university you attended, what your major was, and so on, to which you gladly answer.

However, in the midst of your conversation, your words are abruptly interrupted by the sound of the sliding door opening, followed by heavy footsteps. "And here comes my asshole brother, Joel, and my niece, Sarah," Tommy says to you, prompting both you and your dad to look behind you. You can hear Maria let out a loud laugh at Tommy's words.

Your eyes immediately focused on him as he got closer to you, not even paying attention to the fact that his daughter was right behind him as well.

The man named Joel had short, dark, curly hair like Tommy’s; the only difference is that he is a lot shorter, and the roots of his hair were slightly gray at his temples. Joel also had a patchy beard with a thick mustache. He has this rugged and mysterious look to him that completely enraptures you.

He and your dad greet each other, giving a quick bro hug and pulling away. Joel then turns to you, and you feel your hands quiver. His dark, dominant eyes intensify the intimidating aura that surrounds him, yet it still makes him even more interesting to you.

Holy hell, you think to yourself. This man is so fucking fine.

You continued to stare at Joel, saying absolutely nothing, until you realized that he was giving you a confused look as if he were waiting for something. Your eyes darted down, and you realized that he had his hand out, waiting for you to shake it. You felt your face heat up with embarrassment as you went to shake his hand.

"Joel," was all he said as the two of you shook hands before he let go and discreetly rubbed his hands into his shirt. You could feel yourself shrink with embarrassment as he did this. Not only did he not even give you a chance to introduce yourself, but he wiped his hands after shaking yours.

What a fucking jerk! Tommy was right; he is an asshole.

You quickly snapped out of your feelings when you realized that Sarah was now in front of you. She wore a pink crop top and jean shorts, while her curly hair was placed in a low ponytail.

She suddenly brings you in for a hug with a massive smile on her face, catching you off guard. Nonetheless, you still happily return the hug.

"I'm Sarah. It's nice to meet you!" Unlike Joel, Sarah was a lot more friendly with you. She had this radiant energy to her that made you wonder where she got it from because it definitely wasn't from Joel's grumpy ass. You tell her your name.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Sarah!" I return a smile back to her. She seems like the sweetest 14-year-old you've ever met. "I think we're gonna get along just fine this weekend."

"We sure are!"" She agrees.

"Sarah, sweetheart, how've you been?" Your dad asked her.

As your dad began to talk to Sarah, you decided to check Joel out while he listened to the conversation, occasionally putting in his two cents. Unlike the rest of the group, Joel wore a dark gray shirt, jeans, and some boots.

How is he not hot?

I mean, he is hot, but I meant temperature-wise, you think, causing yourself to let out a low chuckle.

You guess you said that out loud because Joel’s head, along with Maria's, Sarah's, and Tommy's, suddenly snapped over to you with eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Your dad's voice slowly began to fade when he saw the mortified expression on Sarah's face.

"Wait, what happened?" Your dad asked cluelessly as he looked around the group. He was so in his own world that he didn't hear what you said. Thank-fucking-goodness. "Everyone just stopped talking all of a sudden."

"Nothing!" You quickly tell him as you give him a disengenious smile before looking at everyone else. Sarah looked embarrassed for you, as Tommy and Maria still looked shocked. You get a glimpse of Joel as you wince in embarrassment and close your eyes; he had this smug look on his face.

You gathered that Tommy obviously loves to fuck around with people because he let out a stifled laugh, causing his wife to slap his arm and tell him to shut up.

You just wanted to die right then and there. This is now the second time today you've embarrassed yourself in front of this sexy ass man.

Your dad, being the clueless person he is, continues on with whatever he is talking about, not even realizing that no one is paying attention to him. Maria interrupts your dad as she clears her throat to catch your attention. She had a sympathetic look on her face. "Sweetie, your room is on the second floor next to, uh, Joel's, if you wanna get settled in," She offered to you. "We're going to head out to the lake and start putting some things on the grill around 2 or so." You just nodded your head because you were too afraid to speak.

"Hey, Joel?" Tommy looked at his brother with a teasing look on his face. "Why don't you go show her to her room, yeah?" He nods his head in the direction of the staircase.

You wished that you could just punch Tommy across the face at this very moment.

"Umm yeah..." Joel agrees slowly as he gives Tommy a dirty look before glancing at you. "Follow me," You nodded your head and grabbed your purse and other bags. As you followed Joel, the group quietly picked up their conversation again.

Without saying a word to each other, you and Joel arrive in the room. He steps aside, allowing you to enter, and turns around to make his way down the hallway to go back downstairs, but you quickly stopped him before he could get any further. "Hey, I'm sorry about what happened down there." You apologized to him. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable or anything."

Joel just turns around and gives you a small smirk. "Oh, darlin', I'm far from uncomfortable. I'm actually flattered...more than flattered as a matter of fact." He winks at you before departing down the hallway, leaving you shocked.

You were somewhat relieved that Joel wasn't disgusted by you, but it still didn't help with your embarrassment as much as you hoped it would.

You scanned the room, taking in the room that you were going to be spending your weekend sleeping in. The walls were painted a light gray. There was a queen-sized bed that looked really comfortable and had bedside tables on each side as well as a TV, which was mounted onto the wall opposite the bed. There was a door that led to a balcony. You could see an overview of the calm lake and the tall trees. It was a beautiful view.

...

It's been a while since you went downstairs with everyone. You were still so embarrassed by the incident this morning that you decided to spend most of your time scrolling through social media and catching up with your college friends. The only time you came out of the room was to go to the bathroom.

You eventually rolled out of bed and worked up the courage to join everyone.

After changing your clothes that you had on earlier and putting on your swim suit, you slipped on your oversized shirt, put on some waterproof mascara, and put on some lip gloss.

You made sure to grab your sunglasses, put on your flip-flops, and jogged down the steps.

Once you got down there, you realized that Maria was in the kitchen. You headed towards her, quickly greeting her. "Hi, Maria," You say while positioning yourself behind the chairs on the island. She was gathering something that she needed to put outside.

"Hey, sweetheart!" Maria happily greets you back with a smile as she turns her attention to you. "How're you feeling?" She asked you gingerly as she looked at you with sympathy. Her goal wasn't to embarrass you; she truly wanted to know if you were okay after earlier.

You felt yourself begin to get flustered. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking." You sheepishly replied. You avoided her eyes, beginning to feel awkward.

"Of course. They're out in the back; you should join them." She points to the sliding door. You just nodded your head and made your way to the door. Before you went out there, you stood there looking outside. You could see Joel's tall figure standing over the grill as he flipped the meat and sipped on his beer.

You felt yourself getting nervous just looking at him.

You then looked and saw your dad helping Joel take the food off the grill and start to place it on the table. Meanwhile, Sarah and Tommy sat at the table, talking to each other. Whatever Tommy had said made them let out loud laughs, causing Joel quickly turned around, let out a chuckle, and shook his head. He then went back to putting things on the rest of the food on the serving platter.

His smile is so gorgeous, it almost takes your breath away.

"Are you going out, sweetheart?" Maria asked behind you, startling you. You had forgotten that she was still here.

You turned to her as you began to stammer over your words and realized that her hands were full with plasticware and plates. "Do you need me to help you take those?" You asked her without even answering her question.

"I do actually," She just looked at you with a questionable look before speaking up again. "Can you just grab the forks and spoons from the top and place them on the table out there, please?" She asked. You grabbed the utensils before turning back around and opening the door.

They didn't notice you at first until Sarah caught sight of you and loudly called out your name as you got closer, causing Joel to look over at you as he closed the grill's top.

"Sarah!" You exclaimed dramatically. Once you reached the table, you sat the plasticware down and went over to sit next to her.

You noticed that her hair was wet and that she was wrapped in a towel. "What've you been up to, girlfriend?" You asked her as you sat down in the seat.

"Nothing much; I just took a quick dip in the lake, and now I am starving," Sarah whined out as she looked over at her dad, who was coming over with the food.

You can hear the sound of Joel's heavy feet approaching behind you and stopping at the free seat at the end of the table, which was next to you. He first put the food in the middle of the table, then plopped himself down. We all began to put things on our plates and begin eating.

Tommy grumbled something about starving, causing Sarah to make a joke about how he was always starving. In reply, Tommy stuck his tongue out at the young girl in a teasing manner.

As Joel ate, he was manspreading under the table. You could feel his hairy, bare leg graze against yours, making you move your leg away. Joel wiped his mouth with the napkin, took a sip of his beer, and looked at you with a blank stare, not saying anything.

You decided to speak up and compliment him on the food. "Joel, this is really good," You smile. Everyone hummed in agreement as they ate.

"Why thank you, darlin'?" Joel says, going back to eating.

...

After eating, we all sat there with our tummies full as we sat around talking about whatever came to mind. That was until Sarah ran into the house without saying a word.

"Oh goodness, that girl." He sat back as he watched his daughter running around the house through the sliding door before running back outside with a box of Uno cards.

"Who wants to play?" She asked the whole table as she ran to her seat and plopped down.

We all agreed. She began to shuffle the cards, dealt them out to everyone, and then set up the game. It first started with you, Joel, Maria, Tommy, then your dad, and lastly Sarah.

Sarah was the first one to get Uno, even though she had the most cards at one point. We all accused her of cheating, which she was quick to deny. No one at the table believed her, especially Tommy and Maria. She just rolled her eyes and helped your dad while he was stuck figuring out which cards to play next.

While the two silently argued about which card was the best, you looked over at Joel and saw that all his cards were showing. You looked around and noticed that no one was paying attention to his cards. Tommy and Maria were sitting there watching your dad and Sarah.

"You're bleedin', Joel," you whisper to him as you point to his card. His face scrunched up with confusion as to what you meant. He looked down at himself and saw no blood.

"What, sugar? I ain't bleedin' anywhere," He said as he tried to recall if he had maybe scraped himself anywhere, but it wasn't coming to him. You couldn't help, but laugh at his confusion.

"It means your cards are showing, Joel." You giggled at him as he chuckled a bit and put his cards up so that he wasn't "bleeding" anymore.

"That's so stupid, who taught you that?" You just shrugged your shoulders at his question and looked back over to see if your dad had finally picked up his card yet.

"Oh my gosh, this isn't rocket science, dad! Just pick a card already!" You exclaimed it, causing everyone to laugh.

"I'm tryin', I'm tryin'!" Your dad waved you off as he went back to silently arguing with Sarah about which card to choose.

The game got drawn out longer than it was supposed to because every other minute someone (usually Tommy) would start arguing about another person cheating. And in the end, Tommy lost the game.

We put the cards away as everyone except for Maria decided to hang out by the dock and take a swim. She said something about having to get on the phone with a client of hers, but she would come join us when she was done and would bring popsicles.

You and Sarah walked in front of your dad, Joel, and Tommy until you yelled out, "Beat you there!" to Sarah as you both haphazardly ran down the steps to get to the dock.

"You girls, be careful down those stairs now! Don't want y'all gettin' hurt," Joel yells out from behind. The two of you don't respond or slow down; you just keep giggling and running. Joel had to suppress a smile from appearing on his face. It brought him joy to hear how much fun Sarah was having with you.

Once you make it to the dock, Sarah flings off her towel and jumps into the lake with a squiel before she goes under water and floates back up. You quickly kick off your flip flops, throw your sunglasses down, and take off your shirt. Unlike Sarah, you didn't jump into the water, you sat down on the dock and scooched into the water.

Oh, come on! You should've jumped in!" She says this to you as she splashes you with water. You splashed her back.

"I'm too afraid, Sar-bear!" You yelled out to her, and she gasped. The men appeared from the concrete steps just as she did so. Joel dropped the towels in his arms before walking over in front of us, while your dad and Tommy moved to the other side of the dock with their beers and their folding chairs.

"Dad, can you believe that she's too afraid to jump into the water?" Sarah yells out to her dad.

He looked down at you from the dock with his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Really? It's not that scary, sweetheart," He tells you.

"Then how about you get in, Joel?" You say to him without even thinking.

"Yeah, come on, dad. Get in and show her how it's done!" Sarah yells out as she encourages her dad to get in.

You watched Joel as he took off his shoes and shirt, all while keeping his eyes on you. You couldn't help but suck in a breath and bite your bottom lip when he pulled off his shirt. You got a glimpse of his shirtless chest. Joel wasn't the most muscular man, but whatever his job was, it kept him fit, and you loved it. Your eyes quickly scanned over his neck, then his broad shoulders.

Those damn shoulders of his. You wished you could hold onto them as you rode on his co-

Your thoughts were abruptly shattered when Joel took a big leap into the lake, causing a splash of water to hit your face and go up your nose. You tried to make an attempt at turning your head, but it was too late. You coughed as you tried to clear the water from your lungs. As you do so, Joel comes up from beneath the water.

He gasped as he allowed the air back into his lungs and used his big hands to wipe his face. Once he noticed that you were coughing, he quickly swam over to you with a look of concern.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He asked you as you let out one last cough and nodded your head. He brought his hand up to stroke the side of your head and gave you this tender look before pulling away when he noticed that Sarah was coming over.

If it were just you and Joel on the lake, he would've probably pulled you into his body and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

Even though he had just gotten into the lake, Joel decided to get out before he did something that he would regret.

"Alright, girls. I'm gonna get out now." He says more to Sarah than to you. Once again, you just nodded your head at him. You knew that if you spoke, you'd embarrass yourself again.

"Wha-Dad! You literally just got in." She tries to convince him, but he just shook his head and grabbed onto the rails. He pulls himself up with a grunt and walks onto the dock.

"I'll get back in in a little bit." He dismissed her as he went to get a towel.

Sarah began to say something to you as she swam around you, but you were too focused on Joel to listen to what she was saying. She was too busy talking to notice that you weren't listening. Your attention was stuck on Joel, and his wet shorts stuck to his surprisingly nice ass. He then turns around as he dries off. Your eyes drifted down and widening when you saw his bulge. You were taken aback by the sight.

Oh my god, you thought to yourself.

You looked back up at his face to realize that Joel was already staring at you and smirking while he wrapped the towl around his waist.

Oh fuck!

He obviously saw you staring at his cock because he was fucking smirking.

Joel walked over to have a seat with his brother and your dad. You diverted your attention back to Sarah, acting as if you knew what she was talking about. You just nodded your head a couple of times, and she believed it, but again, your mind drifted.

You were thinking about her dad; snap out of it for Christ's sake.

For the rest of your time at the lake, you refused to look at Joel. And just as promised, Maria finally joined you all about an hour later with the popsicles she said she would bring. Once we ate them, Maria convinced the other adults to have a swim in the lake, to which they all agreed after some groans and pressure from her and Sarah.

...

After spending most of the afternoon outside, everyone went off to do their own thing. Sarah decided to take a shower and then go to sleep while your dad, Tommy, and Maria opted to go out to a bar that a local had told them about, and Joel refused to go out tonight because he said that he was beat from the lake. As for you, you took a quick shower and decided to watch the sunset on the balcony that was connected to your room and smoke.

Before slipping onto the balcony, you grabbed a preroll and a lighter from the pouch, your headphones, and a water bottle from the bed.

When you first got here, you didn't notice that there was a door connected to the balcony that led to Joel's room. However, the sheer curtains were closed, so you could only assume that he was asleep, meaning it was safe for you to smoke without him seeing you. You sat down on the lounge chair, put your headphones on, turned on some music, and began your session.

After two hits of the preroll, you felt the effects of the weed. Your body began to relax, and your eyelids felt slightly heavy. As you continued smoking, you couldn't escape the thought of Joel. You know that he is your dad's friend, and you would never think to go after him, but you have to admit that he is an attractive older man. Just your type.

You barely spoke to him throughout the couple of hours you had been there, yet you could tell the type of man he was. He is very reserved, doesn't speak unless spoken to, and likes to observe. Joel is respectful, but he didn't take shit from anyone. It was very visible that he was protective of not only Sarah but also Tommy.

Everything about him drew you in more and more.

With a few more hits of your preroll, you see a figure standing in the corner of your eye just a few feet away from you, causing you to quickly pull off your headphones and flick the preroll from your fingers and off the balcony. You look over to see Joel watching you with his eyebrows frowned and his hands on his hips. Your eyes widen with shock.

"Shit! I mean, hey, Joel..." You smile up at him awkwardly, trying to seem as sober as possible. "What are you doing out here?" You asked him in a sickly sweet voice. He continues to stare at you before answering.

"I just came out here to check on you. Heard you out here, so I decided to see what you were up to." Joel grumbles as he switches his weight to his other foot.

You prayed that Joel didn't know you were out here smoking weed; your dad would kill you if he heard about you doing this. Little did you know that your attempt would be a complete failure. As soon as Joel walked outside, he could smell the smoke and aroma of weed. He could also see your bloodshot eyes.

"Oh, yknow, nothing much really, just out here enjoying the view and listening to music!" You say this while waving your hand, gesturing to the view in front of both of you. You visibly cringe after this sentence because, even though it was the truth, it wasn't the full truth. He seemed to buy it, so you relaxed a bit.

"Mm, you enjoyed yourself today?" he asked.

"Yeah, I had a lot of fun today. Sarah definitely made it fun for me, she's amazing." You admitted to him, and it was true. His daughter was truly a joy to be around.

"Yeah," He laughs out as he looks out at the sunset, his handsome smile threatening to appear on his face. "She's amazing, for sure." He whispers. You can't help but smile at his words. It was refreshing to see that there was someone who was able to crack his hard exterior.

A silence falls over the two of you before he speaks up again. "Y'know, when we were walking back to the car after the lake, she talked about you the whole time. I couldn't shut up about how much cooler you are than Tommy and me." He scoffs as he rolls his eyes playfully and folds his arms to his chest. His confession made you laugh so hard that you couldn't stop, which caused him to laugh as well.

"I mean, she isn't wrong." You teasingly say it to him, causing him to shake his head.

"Yeah-fuckin'-right, darlin'. I can be cool, too."

"Mmhmm.." You reply back to him as you turn your head to look back at the view. However, Joel's eyes remained on you, but you didn't mind too much.

Once again, silence fell over you two. You wanted to look back at Joel, but you knew that if you looked at him in the eyes, your heart would beat out of your chest.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Joel?" You asked him without looking at him.

"What?" Joel asked.

Was he that engrossed in my face that he wasn't even paying attention, or were you not loud enough?

You suppress your laugh as you turn your head to look at him again. "I asked if you enjoyed yourself today." He quickly snaps out of his trance and looks away.

"Oh, yeah, it was enjoyable for the most part, sweetie," Joel sighs out. You said nothing else after this.

You didn't realize it until now, but you were starting to grow tired from the weed. You also wanted a snack.

"Well, I'm going to head back in, maybe fall asleep to a movie or something." You tell him as you grab your belongings, get up from the chair, and walk to the door.

"Alright," He says as he watches every step you take. "And one last thing, darlin'," You stop with your hand on the doorknob and look up at Joel as you wait to hear what he has to say. With a mix of your high and the nervousness you were feeling because of Joel, your heart was pounding out of your chest at this point.

"You don't gotta lie to me, sweet girl. You know that, right?" He says lowly as he motioned to his eyes.

Fuck!

Your body tenses up, and you freeze. You decided to play dumb, even though you were caught. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Joel," You say as you let out a nervous laugh. Your eyes shifted to the ground, avoiding eye contact with Joel like a guilty puppy.

"Oh, no need to play stupid with me, sweet girl; I won't tell your daddy." Something about the way he said these words made you want him so bad; it was almost like he was teasing you.

You felt your walls crumbling, no longer feeling the need to lie to him. "You swear, Joel?" You asked him as you looked at him with pleading eyes.

Joel wished that you would look at him with those pretty eyes while you were on your knees, pleading and begging for him to feed you his cock. In all honesty, he'd give you the world if you asked for it with that look. You made Joel feel something he hasn't felt for a woman in years, and he was willing to do just about anything to have you. However, he could tell you weren't ready for that yet, but he knew in due time he'd have you.

"You have my word, darlin'," He nods his head. "Just don't lie to me again," Joel tells you as he points a finger.

You frantically nod your head in agreement as you bite your lip. "I won't do it again, Joel."

All Joel could think about was how obedient you are, so eager to please him and do as he says. He could feel his cock getting hard in his shorts as he looked at your bare thighs and had these thoughts. Not once did you realize that Joel was checking you out.

Oh, how badly Joel wanted to grab your chin and kiss those lips of yours. He kept reminding himself that he needed to be patient.

"Good." He says before speaking up again. "You should go inside, darlin', maybe get some rest." Joel insisted as he made his way to the door and gave you one last look before walking inside, leaving you outside by yourself.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment as you think about your interaction with Joel. You weren't sure if it was just you thinking too much into the interaction, but you felt like there was some sexual tension between you and Joel.

Any time you're around him, nervousness takes over, and a sense of yearning aches deep in your bones.

You needed him badly.

"Don't," You say to yourself. "Don't fucking think about it." You say it lowly as you try to shake the thoughts out of your head.

Joel is off limits; he's your dad's best friend.

You realized how crazy you must look standing at the door thinking about Joel, so you went inside.

Once you entered the room, you noticed that it was a little too warm in there for your liking, so you decided to leave the balcony door cracked to get some fresh air.

You put your things away, got into bed, and watched a movie on the TV across the room.

...

You weren't sure when you fell asleep, but you did during the movie without even realizing it. You felt very discombobulated, so you sat in the dark for a few minutes. Your clothes felt disgusting on your body as you sweated through them, and your throat was dry.

You quickly got out of bed, slipped off your clothes, got back into bed, and took a sip of the water bottle that lay next to you. During this, you got a glimpse of the digital clock that sat on the bedside table. It read 12:48.

The house was quiet. You were sure that Maria, Tommy, and your dad were back from the bar by now and asleep. Sarah and Joel were probably sleeping as well.

You laid back down on the bed, pushing away the uncomfortable blanket, leaving your body bare. You should have gotten up to close the door because if Joel were to come to your balcony door, he'd surely get a glimpse of your naked body. However, you were still sleepy and a little high, so you lacked the motivation to get up.

It really didn't matter anyway; he's probably still sleeping.

You had laid restless in the bed, constantly flipping the pillows to get the cool side and changing positions, but you still couldn't sleep. You decided to lay on your stomach; it helped you fall asleep sometimes.

You knew one thing that would definitely make you fall asleep, but with a particular someone lingering in your thoughts, it felt wrong. It is completely wrong to have these thoughts about him.

He's way too old for you, and he's your dad's best friend.

Though you tried your best to resist these thoughts, you couldn't help yourself.

Fuck it, it's not like I'm gonna actually fuck him, you think to yourself.

You were suddenly taken back to earlier, when you first laid eyes on him. Those eyes and the curve of his nose. You wanted nothing more than to feel his beautiful nose rub against your clit while he ate you out.

Or when he shook your hands and you felt those thick, rough fingers against your smooth hands.

You were sure that Joel knew how to use them very well.

Subconsciously, your hips had bucked into the bed, trying to get friction onto your clit causing the headboard to hit against the wall ever-so-slightly.

"Shit!" You cursed out loud, hoping that Joel didn't hear. Your heart was pounding at the thought of being caught by him, but your pussy dripped with your wetness.

You waited a couple seconds until you took your hand from underneath the pillow and slowly moved it between the bed and your body, allowing your finger tips to graze against your pussy. You couldn't help but whimper at the feeling. Your arousal ran down your fingers, to your knuckles, and onto the bed.

What you didn't know was that Joel wasn't even in his room; he was sitting out on the balcony. He had been sitting out there for about an hour or so because he couldn't sleep, not with you on his mind, so he decided to sit out there and bore himself to death until he got some sleep. When he first came outside, he checked on you and saw that you were knocked out. The room was dark, and the only thing that brought some light to the room was the bright moonlight reflecting over the lake.

As Joel got up to check on you one last time before he went back to his room, he heard you let out a whimper. He slowly walked to your balcony door so that he wouldn't scare you in case you were having a nightmare, but that wasn't the case at all. Again, Joel heard you let out another noise.

First, you sharply gasped, then moaned out, "Oh, Fuck!"

Joel became more intrigued with whatever was going on in your room because it became very apparent that you weren't having a nightmare. In fact, it didn't even sound like you were sleeping anymore.

Like a thief in the night, Joel peered through the door that was half open. What he saw before him could've brought him to his knees.

You were lying down on your stomach, fully naked on the bed. He noticed that with your right hand, you were touching yourself. Joel wasn't hard before, but he's definitely hard now. He felt as his cock strained against the fabric of his shorts.

Joel knew it was wrong to watch you masturbate without knowing, but he couldn't take his eyes off of you. It had been nearly two years since the last time he had been sexually active, and quite honestly, it was catching up to him at that very moment. He had been so busy with everything in his life that sex was the last thing on his mind until now.

As Joel watched you hump your hips into your fingers, you were imagining a shirtless Joel sat up on the bed, with you sitting in between his legs. Your legs would be wide open, propped up over his, as you allowed his calloused middle and ring finger to collect your arousal from between your folder and rub it into your clit. With his deep Texas accent, he would be whispering into your ear about how much of a good girl you are and how wet you were for him. Your head would be laid on his sexy, broad shoulders as your eyes rolled with pleasure. You imagined that as he played with your clit, his other hand would touch your breast and quickly tweak your nipples as they continued going up and firmly wrapping around your neck.

You were so caught up in your thoughts and pleasure that you hadn't realized that you were moaning out Joel's name.

"J-Joel, please," You quivered out quietly enough so that you weren't too loud, but loud enough for Joel to hear. "I'll be good, p-please, daddy." You followed up.

Even though you thought that Joel was in the next room over (which he wasn't) and there were other people in the house, you still continued to touch yourself as the headboard faintly knocked against the wall.

Yet you were so blissfully unaware of it all. So unaware of the fact that Joel was standing right outside the door, watching you rubbing yourself completely nude, and unaware that Joel had pulled his cock out while he watched and listened to you.

Joel didn't care that what he was doing was wrong. He didn't care that watching you, this freshly 21-year-old, masturbate without your knowledge was bad.

The sounds of your panting, moans, and dirty talk made him want to walk right into the room and give you the pleasure you needed.

Joel has always been a selfish lover when it came to the bedroom; he liked to be the one who was dominant and always took control. He could tell you needed someone like him to fulfill your desires—not some foolish 20-something year old, but a real man.

As you continued to grind against your fingers, Joel saw how your ass moved back and forth. He wanted to spank you for being such a naughty girl. Touching yourself without asking for his permission. He would remind you that only slutty, bad girls did that.

He jerked his cock at the same speed as your hips moved. "Oh my god, daddy!" You moaned into the pillow, causing it to be muffled. The thrusting of your hips had sped up. You were on the cusp of cumming, but that changed when you suddenly pulled your hands from between your legs and got up to change positions.

You were now lying on your back with your legs bent up to your chest as far as they could go. Using the hand you just used to grind up against, you bring your middle and ring fingers to your mouth. You began to suckle on them intensely, pretending they were Joel's fingers. You could taste yourself as you did so.

A minute later, you pop your fingers out of your mouth and bring them down to your pussy. As you sink your fingers inside yourself, you can feel the wetness, allowing you to slip deeper into your tight hole. You squirmed as you felt a little discomfort due to your fingers. You decided to slowly thrust your fingers in and out, allowing yourself to get used to the feeling. With your free hand, you brought it up to your mouth to muffle your soft whines.

Oh, my baby, she can barely take her own fingers, Joel thought as he watched you.

To Joel's surprise, you still didn't see him standing by the door, hastily jerking himself off at the sight of you. It wasn't like he was being discreet about it either. He was almost fully through the door at that point. Your eyes were closed as you fingered yourself.

Finally, you were able to adjust to your fingers. As you picked up the speed, Joel could hear the wet, slick sounds coming from your pussy all the way across the room. Hearing this only heightens the pleasure for him.

"Joel, I'm-oh my god-I'm gonna cum!" You moaned lowly.

Joel wanted to be the one to make you cry, but he knew he couldn't at that moment.

Your messy wetness had allowed your fingers to go deeper inside, causing you a certain spot. Your legs shuddered as your finger tips grazed the spot. In a 'come here' motion, you continued to hit the spot over and over again. "Fuck! That's it, baby. Keep going just like that." You purred out.

Joel convulsed at the way you said these words. He was ready to cum at any moment, but he wanted to cum with you.

With his hand still rapidly moving up and down his length, he finally heard your release.

"Yes! I'm cumming all over your fingers, Joel!" You moaned a little louder this time. Joel could hear you breathing hard as you continued to ramble about how good it felt.

Instantly, Joel was cumming. He withheld his groans and grunts as the hot cum hit the palm of his other hand. Instead, he was breathing hard through his nose, hoping to God that you couldn't hear him.

Finally, your orgasm began to die down. "Oh my god," You sighed out blissfully, as you pulled your finger from your pussy. Your legs moved from your chest and you dropped down on the bed. You were still trying to catch your breath. With his mind still cloudy from cumming so hard, when Joel saw you move your legs, he thought that you were going to get off the bed, causing him to panic and move away from the door so that you couldn't see him.

You could feel the cum webbing between your two fingers. You decided that you wanted a look, so you opened your eyes and brought your hand close to your face. You could see the bright moonlight illuminate your cum. You'd never come so hard. Not with any of your hookups, let alone when you masturbated.

You felt spent after that, but you needed to get up to clean yourself off. You decided to rest your eyes a bit before getting up, but without even realizing it, you had dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

Less than five minutes later, Joel heard light snores coming from your room, so he decided that it was safe to look again. You were dead to the world. Joel saw your limp hand hanging off the bed—the same one you had used to fuck yourself with. He could see the wetness gleaming on your fingers. He wanted to come over them and suck your cum off of your fingers, but he stopped himself.

The post-nut clarity had hit Joel, and he realized that he must've looked like a creep with his cock out while he watched you sleep. So he closed your balcony door and headed back into the house to wash the cum from his hands.

Joel knew that he would have you one day; it didn't matter how long it took for him to get you. He would get you right where he wanted you eventually.

...

You woke up feeling like a brand new person that morning. Your limbs felt loose, and you felt like you could conquer the world.

You could feel the sun on your naked body as you rose out of bed to stretch. The sounds of people moving around let you know that everyone was awake.

You suddenly realized that the balcony door was now closed. You don't remember getting up to clean yourself, and you definitely don't remember ever getting up to close the door.

Realization had hit you hard, and your heart dropped.

Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

There was no way anyone could have come into your room because you had locked the bedroom door. However, Joel had access to the shared balcony.

He was the only one who could've closed that door.

Whatever, you were going to enjoy yourself this weekend and act like nothing happened.

=============================================

A/N: I had a lot of trouble writing this for some reason, but next one is going to be a lot better. I got so much planned already hehe

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Hey I seen you’re asking for some Eddie requests. I was wondering if I could request something really angsty where Eddie chooses someone else over reader (can be a happy ending or not) but I just want to hurt think I need it out my system 😂 please and thank you

Request by anon.

Angsty but with a happy ending (for reader)

♥️

The heartache you felt was like nothing else, you had thought that Eddie was interested in you, that there was a possibility the two of you might start dating.

Truly you had thought that the flirting between the two of you meant something more. Yet it didn't.

Instead of asking you on a date, Eddie had chosen to date Louise King.

In truth, you didn't even find out until school on Monday, the school was abuzz sigh gossip and your best friend Tina told you.

"Oh my god, did you hear about Louise and Eddie, she hooked up with the freak at Jason's party and they are together now. Like together together" her eyes light up with the absolute scandal of it all while you felt like your heart was being stamped on.

"What?" you whisper but Tina doesn't hear you and instead focuses on gossiping with Anna. You feel nauseated and decide to go and find Eddie, you don't have to look far, Louise is hanging off him like a limpet, she's all giggly and hyper.

"Uh, can we talk for a second Eddie. Um about our class project?" you didn't have one but it's the only way you figured you could speak to him.

Fortunately, he takes the hint and removes himself from Louise, he follows you to a more secluded area and you peer up at him confused.

"What's going on Eddie, I thought that you might have asked me out, that we had a spark but now I come to school and you're dating Louise?" you murmur and Eddie's eyes flicker with something you can't place before his face turns smooth and impassive.

"Yeah. Well, you thought wrong sweetheart, I'm not interested in you and never have been" he's so cold as he says this and you blink back tears.

"Right. So instead of telling me this, you lead me on and let me flirt with you like a fool to what? Stroke your ego? You're an asshole Eddie Munson. Exactly like Jason except he wouldn't even do this" you see the flash of hurt in his eyes but don't care and walk away from him.

Tough shit.

Finally, the tears fall freely.

❤️

After avoiding Eddie and Louise all day you head out of school in a rush to get home. Your heart is still aching and you just want to crawl in bed and cry everything out.

In your rush to get away, you stumble and drop your notes from class, wipe the tears away from your eyes and try to pick them all up. Fuck, stupid notes, stupid Eddie.

Someone helps you gather them all, you see tanned hands gather them quickly and when you peer up Steve is smiling at you. Oh... you smile shyly at him and say thanks.

"No problem honey, hey did you watch that movie last week that I recommended? Back to the future is a superior film" you giggle and shake your head.

"No, not yet" You swear that you can feel eyes on you but when you turn around no one is there.

Weird.

Steve is sweet and very flirty, actually flirting with you and making you laugh. It's a nice feeling after today and maybe things eventually might be okay?

Steve offers to drive you home and you nod still smiling. "Hey, you been crying?" he asks concerned and you shrug.

"Just thought this guy liked me. Turned out I was very wrong" The pain hits you again but you manage to ignore it. Steve frowns at this.

"Well then he's a dickhead and not worth your time, hey you wanna hang with me and Robin today?" Yes, yes you really would.

As you're leaving you don't notice Eddie leaning up against the wall and watching you and Steve leave together.

Even if you did well why should you care? Eddie made his bed so he would just have to lie in it.

❤️