#anyway it's fine!! still holding out hope that my hot coworker will fall in love with me

[eddiepeaches]

love isn't real (went out on a first date with a girl and she said she watched s1 of ofmd and it was "okay")

[kiridarling]

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐒 𝐔𝐏!

shouto todoroki | f!reader, ceo heir!shouto, mirror sex, hair pulling, choking, inappropriate use of showerhead, alcohol. minors dni!

— 3k words

"You're so pretty when you make a mess, aren't you?"

Miss Y/N,

I couldn't help but notice the latest project my father assigned is extremely difficult. If I'm going to be completely honest, you'll work yourself to death at this rate, and your greys double by the day. Drinks on me at Club 777 at 7 pm. Sound like a deal?

— shouto todoroki

“A club.”

“Glad you could make it,” Shouto gives you a small smile; it’s anything but hostile. And yet, that’s all yours is as you assume the space to his right in the velvet crescent booth. “I hope it wasn’t too hard to find. Club 777 is pretty popular around he—what are you doing.”

As your fingers fly across the keyboard, you give him an indignant huff, the screen highlighting the underside of your face electric blue as you continue hacking away at your presentation. If you’re going to be forced to go out, you’re going to make the most of it—and that’s by getting the work that you would be getting done at home, at a club. And a rather loud one, at that.

"You're a workaholic," he observes with a sigh, and you flash him a fat sarcastic smile. Stupid fucking CEO heirs and their entitlement.

"Congrats, you've solved everything! Can I go home, now?"

"No," Shouto frowns before he rudely snaps your laptop shut and sets it to his right. Pushing a plate of clear-colored shots your way, your eyes bulge—there have got to be at least fifteen. "Drink up—it'll take the edge off."

You blink between your coworker and the shots. You trust Shouto and you've known each other for a while...somewhat. His father is your boss, and with Shouto as the next in line you’ve got no choice but to play nice. He’s as cocky as he is aloof, but you suppose he’s fine overall—and he's seen you break your back over this project for a solid month and a half. Positive you won't be able to keep your conscious from running laps over all the work you have to do otherwise, you snatch the first shot and chuck it down your gullet with worrying enthusiasm. Shouto lifts an eyebrow and you reach for another.

"Thirsty?" He chuckles, before grabbing a shot for himself. The second shot burns, but never as much as the first, and the back of your hand catches what doesn't make it into your mouth as you say:

"More than you could think."

"And then—and then I was like, um no sir, I think you got my change wrong by at least five bucks! He didn't believe me, like at all."

"Did he make a fuss of it?"

"Of course."

"That means he has a small dick," Shouto advises with the second to last shot in his hand, wrist-watch glinting in the club light. His face is a deeper red than his hair and you've never noticed how nice a suit fits him as if you don't see him in one every day. You giggle at that, too far gone yourself to be offended on the stranger's behalf. Shouto's jacket drapes over your shoulders like an oversized blanket even though you bickered about not being cold, with enough alcohol in your veins to warm a village.

"Probably," you rest your head against the crescent booth, dismissive at the softness from the red velvet that’s probably ruining your hair. "Either way, I pulled a Karen and called the manager on 'em.

Shouto nods, "As you should. Once I tricked my father into thinking he had a very unhappy customer by sending him a million emails from 'John Appleseed' and calling his personal secretary twice as much."

You cackle, throwing yourself across the table at the thought of your Boss’ face hot and red with anger (as it does.) Shouto's loved nothing more than to make his animosity against his father well-known—to you, at least—and to say bored Heir been getting creative the past few months is an understatement. "Oh fuck—when'd you stop calling?"

Shouto shrugs, muscles rolling underneath his white dress shirt, "Once I filled his voicemail box.”

He holds a smile, small and distant, as he watches you wheeze as if he just told the funniest story in the world. In your defense, Shouto's never really been a funny guy, but he does funny things. Like when he stares at you when he doesn’t think you notice, or when he gets so close your chests nearly touch, but doesn't notice it. Doesn't point it out, at least. You find your laugh dying along with the smile on his face, though, and when he says nothing afterward but stare.

"...Shouto?" You snap in his face to make sure he's still in there—but it's hard to tell, with his glazed eyes and scarily steady breathing. His arms find either side of you, and you're too tipsy to realize you've been caged against the booth until it's too late.

"Your eyes are quite mesmerizing, Miss Y/N," he marvels. You can smell the vodka on his breath, and positive that compliment would’ve set your face aflame if the alcohol hadn’t already, any hints of cherry obscured by the neon club lights.

"I—um, thank you," you giggle, and if you were sober, you'd shoot yourself in the foot for reacting like a school girl. But you suppose you can give yourself some leeway—this is Shouto Todoroki after all, and for some reason, he's complimenting you. "You...you aren't too bad yourself."

"You wouldn't mind if I got a little closer, would you?" Though Shouto holds a cheeky half-drunken smile on his own, knowing any closer will result in nothing but a kiss and perhaps a little more. His eyes flicker to your lips the same time yours flicker to his, and you and you catch a heat in his eyes you didn’t notice before.

"Not at all."

You blink and Shouto's lips are on yours. They’re soft, painfully so, and it's clear he knows what he's doing—with his hands dropping to your waist and tilting his head ever-so-slightly to the right. Nudging your lips open, his tongue easily finds it's way around, mapping the insides of your mouth and taking note of what makes you shiver the most.

Shouto tastes like vodka. It's a familiar taste, one that you associate with seven minutes in heaven and quick make-out sessions in high school—and yet this time it spurs your heart to beat faster, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in even closer, as if it's possible.

When you pull away it’s clear neither of you really want to, but unfortunately you need to oxygen to live, chest heaving in unison as your eyes catch his own. Shouto's grip tightens around your waist as he licks over his already wet lips, glossed by what you assume is your spit.

“You’re one dangerous woman,” he rasps with swollen lips. You giggle, but you know he knows his words’ effect on you because goosebumps are impossible to hide.

“Thank you,” you respond, a bit awkwardly—because what else are you supposed to say?

"I'm positive it isn't the alcohol talking when I say I want to take you right here." Shouto growls as his eyes hold you in your seat. You shiver, the request sounding impossibly inviting, and your thighs discreetly rub together to take the edge off a bit.

"Bathroom," you breathe against his lips, this night turning for the most unexpected.

"Off, off, get all of this off," Shouto pants the moment you two step into a gender-neutral singles bathroom. You don't doubt they made it gender-neutral for this exact reason, but that thought leaves as quickly as it enters when Shouto pins you against the sink starts to pepper hot kisses down your neck. He scrambles to bunch your dress to your waist over taking it off completely and growls at the sight of your lower-half in absence of your usual attire.

"Do you know how long I've wanted you? Hmm?” He's breathless as he settles between your legs with a lick of his lips, pushing the excess of your dress into your hands. You really don't know how long he’s wanted you, but you find yourself biting your lip at the prospect anyway—that you've been driving your boss's son, your future boss, just as crazy as he's been driving you.

"Shouto—"

"Shhh," he interrupts, pulling your panties to the side. "Let me take care of you. You've been working hard these past few months, no?"

You guess so.

Either way, all clarity dies when Shouto licks a fat stripe up your slit, chuckling when you slide a tentative hand into his hair. Your grip tightens when his lips wrap around your clit and suck, slipping a finger between your folds to elicit a whimper or two. He bites his lip when you tug a little.

"Keep doing that and you just might ruin me," Shouto groans, before his mouth returns and he’s adding another finger. When the digits curl just right, your hips buck in faint frustration—they're moving too slow.

"Can you, um," you blush, eyes skittering to the bathroom walls instead. The club music permeates despite the fact that they look like they're made of solid brick, vibrating the floor and sink underneath you both. "Go faster?"

Shouto's eyes snap to yours. For a second you’re afraid he's going to say no, but he tosses your leg over his shoulder and adjusts your hips until they're at a perfect level, licking his lips and growling:

"My pleasure."

You're positive whoever loiters near the bathroom door hears your yelp as his mouth descends to devour your pussy, eating you so enthusiastically that you see you're slick smeared across his pink cheeks. Shouto pulls your hips deeper into his face with a defiant growl and you have to drop your forearms on the sink to keep yourself from falling to the hard ground, your grip around the porcelain ever-tightening.

"Feel good?" He rubs a heavy thumb over your clit in place of his mouth and stuffs you with a third finger. You nod with a broken moan as he pulls his digits out all the way out before burying them knuckle-deep again, grasp on the sink slipping. He flicks your clit, "Answer me."

"Y-Yeah," you nod again, near-hyperventilating. You’re sure Shouto’s getting a kick out of it—at least, if his chuckle has anything to say about it.

"Good girl," he coos, the circles on your clit slowly quickening, "You're so pretty when you make a mess, aren't you?"

You're nodding along with him, though you're not exactly sure why—but then his mouth returns and suddenly, why doesn't matter as much.

Shouto's more vocal than you expected, groaning into your sweetness as your thighs trembles next to his head. He holds you like you're precious, like you're actually something to him, but you're much too drunk to unpack all of that right now. Instead, you tug at his hair. It pulls a much louder moan from his gut and you find yourself enjoying the vibrations, yanking harder to hear him again.

"W-Wait, Shouto," you whimper out, painfully close as you pull at his hair but this time to pull him away from you, "I wanna—wanna cum on your cock...if that's okay."

Shouto blinks once, twice, and then you're staring at yourself in the mirror listening to him frantically undoing his belt, cursing when the metal slaps him across the palm. You giggle.

"Eager, are we?"

"You don't even know," he pants, and the tip of his cock kissing your entrance has you biting your lip. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and they melt when he fits the head of his cock inside, the grip he has on the porcelain sink turning white as he pushes further.

"You are—you are painfully tight, Miss Y/N," Shouto wheezes into your neck, teeth grit as his pelvis finally brushes against your ass. You resist the urge to wheeze with him, his cock filling you to the point where your lungs struggle to find room to breathe.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you joke, eyes fluttering shut. Shouto tuts, grabbing the underside of your face as he says:

"Eyes open, Miss Y/N. I want you to watch yourself fall apart as I fuck you."

Your eyes peel open, albeit reluctantly as you whine, not understanding why you need to watch your own face when you can enjoy the sight of him instead, "But Shouto, that's embarrassing..."

"Just trust me," he grunts, and his hips are snapping into yours, sending you jolting into the sink to the point where you have to brace a hand on the mirror to keep yourself from being squished flat against the porcelain. Shouto leans over, "You trust me, don't you?"

And well. When he puts it like that...

"Look at yourself, not at me," Shouto says, catching you redhanded. You whine when the hand holding your head moves to your neck and squeezes, cutting off your oxygen supply just enough for your eyelids to drop halfway. "See? See how good you look? So wrecked for me already and we've barely started."

"S-Shut up," you moan more than you say, finding yourself mesmerized in the way your lips part and by the redness of your cheeks. Shouto dips his head into your neck and sucks, prompting your free hand to find his multicolored hair again and pull. His reaction is almost automatic, the way the smooth rock of his hips changes into a quick snap in a heartbeat. It has you keening, his cock reaching places spots you weren't aware you had, and he crushes you against the sink to rub at your clit.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous for me," he grunts, hips finding the energy to pick up the pace. You whimper and he's sucking a hickey into your neck, hot breaths punctuating along with his sharp thrusts. "Feel so good around my cock, like you were made for me—shit—"

This time you break the rules, eyes flickering to look Shouto in the mirror as you watch him come undone. His hips stutter as he muffles a broken moan in the back of your neck, body shuddering while he fills you up. His thrusts slowly dissolve into nothing and soon it's just your heavy breathing between brick walls, until Shouto pulls out with a hiss.

"You didn't cum."

"O-Oh, um," You blink at his unimpressed gaze through the mirror as if you got caught redhanded. "I...usually can't. Without a vibe.”

Shouto hums at that but says nothing. You watch something in his brain churn, eyes surveying the room before a lightbulb appears above his head and he's snapping his fingers.

"The shower."

"...What?"

"The. Shower." Shouto says, a little cheekier this time, as he guides you towards a simple shower hidden behind a curtain. Now, why there’s a shower in a club bathroom is beyond you.

"Well. This seems awfully convenient," you click. Shouto shrugs.

"Sun (the author) says it's to clean up the drunks who vomit all over themselves." He takes the only shower seat available, back pressing against the tile.” I think she just wants you to ride a showerhead ****if I'm being completely honest."

"Maybe she tried it for the first time recently or something,” you hum absentmindedly, but that thought flies out the window as Shouto grunts:

"Either way, it's irrelevant. Strip."

"I—completely?" You exclaim, covering your body despite the fact that it's already covered by your dress again. Shouto raises an eyebrow, settling both elbows on his knees once grabbing the showerhead from its bar.

"Unless you want your outfit to get soaking wet, yes. Completely."

Touché.

You're naked fairly quickly and Shouto lays you across the tile even quicker. You watch him test the different modes on his hand, before choosing the one with the most...gusto. You spread your thighs and fight the embarrassing blush dusting your cheeks from the exposing position.

"Ready?" You roll your eyes.

"I swear Shouto, if you do—o-oh."

He presses the rushing water to your clit, and you have to take a step back, fully unprepared for how nice the pressure would feel. Shouto chuckles at that, the soles of his loafers soaking in the lukewarm water with you as he sits with his legs spread, brazenly enjoying the view.

"Feels good?"

You nod, hips subtly grinding into the hot stream. Shouto bites his lips at the view and it turns you on that much more to know you can have such an effect, before his free hand drops to his palm himself through his dress pants.

"I get the perfect view, too," Shouto growls to himself, tilting his head ever-so-slightly as you release a broken moan, bare hips stuttering against the tile. "A perfect view of that pretty little pussy. Ah ah, keep those legs for me."

Your inner thighs quiver with an impending orgasm, the edge looking much closer than it did previously. The combination of Shouto's words, his sounds, and the steady beat of the water against your clit is enough to have anyone shaking, and the only complaint you have is that you wish he wasn't so fucking far.

"S-Shouto," you whimper, hands scrambling across the slippery tile. "I'm close."

"Yeah? Do it then, make me proud," Shouto growls with a feral smile, grip tightening around his cock—you nod, chest shuddering.

“Y-Yeah just adjust the—oh fuck, Shou, right there!”

Your thighs clench as you gasp and your fingernails dig into the grout between the tile as you orgasm, your moan nearly bordering on a scream. Shouto groans, grip tight on his cock through his damp suit pants, and you nearly giggle as your high ebbs.

“Have I ever told you how dangerous you are, Y/N?” Shouto says cheekily. You grin back, cocking your head to the right.

“Only a million times.”

“Well then I owe it to you again,” he says lowly, and you get the message you two aren’t done as he joins you on the wet floor to cradle your jaw.

“You’re one dangerous woman, Y/N.”

a/n: i fully expose myself in this, and you know what? i'm fine with that.

click to return to CLUB 777

[spencersawkward]

hi! today is my birthday (yeah, a day before his) and as a big fan of yours that i am, i know that you made a one-shot for his birthday, but could you do it like it would be if it was your first birthday with him? i reeeally appreciate and love your work! keep doing this, you're amazing! thank you!!

ok the daddy kink gotta go on pause bc we have an EMERGENCY called it's a baddie's birthday! 🥳 happy birthday babe i hope it's as special and lovely as can be! also thank you that made my day of course i'd be happy to write a one-shot like that :)

summary: reader reunites with Matthew for her birthday after his absence on a week-long trip. 

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk.

word count: 3.8k 

masterlist

after lighting my favorite candles on the bedside table and smoothing out the wrinkles on the bed, I climb onto the mattress and fold my legs up beneath me, criss-cross applesauce. there's a warm, peachy light that falls onto the white comforter, aureate and gentle when I straighten my spine.

I have spent my birthday so far dealing with tired limbs and people I don't like; the only good part so far was getting lunch with a couple of my friends, but something still feels absent.

that something is Matthew.

he's been in Los Angeles for a week, and I miss him like crazy. the apartment is cold and hollow without him in it, despite the numerous objects of his that decorate every nook and cranny. a star and moon mobile hangs above our bed, which sounds childish but actually is fun for both of us to look at when we're lying together at night.

our eyes always follow as the crescent and circle shapes cross each other in a slow circle while we talk. and every time he's gone, his side of the bed gets cold. I miss his mouth and the shape of his arms when they enfold me. I've never been much for showing affection, but I would cover him in kisses if we had all day together.

absence makes the heart grow fonder, I guess.

he's coming home tonight and I've been looking forward to it for days now. even our kitten, Clarisse, lifts her head every time someone in the hallway of the building passes. she likes to sit between us whenever she can.

I let my thoughts roam freely as I take deep breaths and center my mind. it's hard to reign in the joy I feel at the memory of him. I haven't had an orgasm since he left, not because I haven't had the motivation, but because Matthew has created a new rule.

neither of us can pleasure ourselves until we see each other again. technically, I suppose we could break the rule and there would be no ramifications-- but it's kinda fun, to be honest. every night he calls me, and every night he tiptoes around the things he wants to do when he gets home. he can always hear the shortness of my breath when he says anything erring on risqué, asking what I'm wearing or if I've been thinking of him. of course I've been thinking of him; my nights swell with apparitions of his touch, moving over my skin without any tangible reality.

it usually ends with him tsking and telling me to be patient while I dig my fingernails into the inside of my thighs, resisting every urge within me to get off to the sound of his voice. he does it so well, too. all deep and desirous when he tells me to be good.

even as I sit here on the bed, a tingling feeling starts in my stomach. I want him too badly, and waiting has been absolute torture. I remember two nights ago, when I was sitting in his favorite armchair with my knees tucked into my chest, speaking softly to him.

"what have you been up to?"

"nothing out of the ordinary: filming, drawing... thinking of you." he had said, the last three words igniting a flame in my stomach. I love to hear him say that.

"anything in particular?" I started to trace absent-mindedly over the skin of my calves.

"thinking about how good you'd look with your hands between your legs." his voice was somehow silky and raspy all at once, like the idea of it was arousing him. I bit my lip and squeezed my thighs together.

"stop tempting me."

"why?"

"you know damn well why." I giggled. he sighed on the other end of the line.

"I'm starting to hate this rule."

"you made it!" I argued, practically able to hear the mischievous little smile on his face.

"I know, but I wanna hear your noises."

"Matthew..." I blushed, even though he wasn't right in front of me.

"I can't wait to hear you scream that." the drop in his tone made goosebumps rise over my skin.

"are you hard right now?"

"maybe." he hesitated. I felt every cell in my body begging me to cheat our rule-- maybe bend it slightly-- but I hold true.

"get home, then, and I'll suck the soul out of you." I laughed a bit and heard him move in his seat.

"stop teasing."

"you're one to talk," I glanced out the window at the city glittering, full of so many people and empty of him. "I should go before we fuck this up for ourselves."

"no..." he whined like a needy puppy for a moment. "just talk to me normally."  

"fine," I pretended to be disappointed. I didn't want to hang up, anyway. "do you wanna hear about my coworkers? that's guaranteed to eradicate all sexual thoughts."

...

he texts me half an hour later, as I blow out the wicks of my candles and watch the rest of the sun disappear. I love nighttime. he's on his way and I get butterflies, despite the fact that I already know what's coming.

instead of waiting giddily with Clarisse, I elect to take a hot shower and wash the day from my bones. I feel more at ease now that I've had some time to sit with my thoughts, although they've made me even more sexually frustrated.

it's only when I'm drying my hair and sitting in my new lingerie slip dress that relief walks through the door in the form of Matthew and a pizza from our favorite neighborhood place. I hear him come in, practically leap up and run into the living room.

"hi!" he greets, standing in the entryway with his suitcase and a scarf thrown casually around his neck. he shuts the door just in time for me to get to him.

"hi hi hi!" I attach myself like a parasite, wrapping my arms around his waist and holding him tightly.  

"happy birthday, my sweet girl," he kisses the top of my head and lets out a chuckle at my affection. "can I set my stuff down, quick?" Clarisse brushes against his leg.

reluctantly, I disentangle myself and take the pizza box from his hands and carry it into the kitchen. he makes a high-pitched whistle noise as I walk away, bending over to greet our cat.

"liking the view." he jokes. I set down the box and return to him, removing his scarf and coat with something of an impatience.

"shut up," I laugh. he starts to kiss my cheekbone, smiles against my skin while I peel off the winter layers. he's got too many clothes on. "you didn't need to pick up a pizza."

"it's your special day-- I wanted to get you the finest cuisine in Manhattan." he replies sincerely. I bite back a grin and stare up at him, completely and utterly in love with his stupid turns of phrase.

"it's gonna get cold, though."

"why?" he frowns. I answer by pulling him in for a voracious kiss, cupping his face in my hands. after a moment of us pressing our torsos together, he grabs the backs of my thighs and I jump, letting him hold me up. one of his hands rests beneath my butt, squeezing the flesh while we embrace.

"you're gonna drop me if we don't get to the bedroom soon." I giggle into his mouth. he playfully smacks my ass and carries me into our favorite place, slamming the door shut with his foot and setting me down on the mattress. I smile at his perfect features, wanting to both tear into him and preserve this moment in time forever.

he climbs onto the bed, pushes my legs apart and runs his hands along the outside of my thighs to hitch up my slip. I raise my eyebrows but don't argue when he gathers the dress up around my waist and yanks my panties down.

"I've been thinking about your pussy all day." he kisses the skin above my knee, moving much too slowly up my legs while he holds them open. I feel my hips leave the bed in eagerness, and he glances at my core hungrily. "you're dripping, baby."

"don't make me wait any more." I roll my eyes and he places the flat of his hand over my center, barely stimulating me while pushing me down. he knows the effect it has from the tortured whine I release.

"the best things come with time." he winks and continues his open-mouthed kisses along my inner thighs. his head is between my legs, but not nearly in the way I'd like it to be. I crave more; he knows it. he licks over a spot near my pussy and I moan.

"sensitive, huh?" he raises an eyebrow. I run my fingers through those unruly curls, tug.

"don't act as if you aren't just as turned on right now."  

"delayed gratification is a skill, darling." he's smirking and it's driving me wild looking at him in this position, not doing anything. he peeks at my body again before meeting my eyes. "you're dragging this out by talking, by the way."

"oh my god." I throw my head back into the pillow, but go silent as he starts to resume his movements. finally, slowly, he licks up my entrance, pausing at my crest to flick his tongue. I gasp and look at him, his focus all on my face.

he rolls his mouth expertly over me, dipping between my folds to taste and releasing a greedy moan before starting to lap and play with it like he can't stop himself anymore. this time, when I grip his hair, I use it as leverage to grind against him. he feels so good, the sounds coming from my lips are truly unhinged.

"oh, shit, shit-- just like that." I choke out. every part of me clings to him. he wraps his hands around my thighs and yanks me down the bed so he can do more with me. every action with his tongue is like a delicious torture, him exploring all the parts of me as if he's never tasted them before. when he runs his teeth gently across my clit, I moan loudly.

"so hot, Matthew, god, please--"

he doesn't even stop to tease me at all. judging by the darkened irises and blown-out pupils, he's lost in his own world while he eats me out. I can feel the pads of his fingertips gripping onto my skin as if it's his only tether to reality. he behaves like someone inebriated, trying new tricks and thrusting his tongue into my entrance. I'm already close, and he can feel from the insistence of my sounds.

he pulls away for a second and I whine, but he puts two fingers over my clit and rubs me like crazy while he talks.

"is this what you wanted for your birthday, sweetheart? to cum?" his mouth is glistening with my essence, lips swollen, while he holds my gaze. I'm whimpering.

"we're gonna have dinner after this and then for dessert, I'm gonna give you what you want," he pants and I can see the erection straining against his clothes. "okay?"

"mhmm." I buck against his touch, which is bringing me closer with every passing second.

"I'm treating you until that little pussy can't take it anymore." he bites his lip and watches me squirm. I'm almost to the edge and I know what will finish me.

"I need your mouth." I beg him hopefully. Matthew grins.

"whatever you want, baby." and with that, he bends down again and replaces his talented fingers with his lips, flicking and running over my clit until I can feel my stomach tensing.

"fuck!" I cry out, rolling against his face and climaxing intensely. my eyes squeeze shut at the tightening of all my muscles. my skin is on fire as I clutch at my tits through the fabric of my dress and feel my back move off the bed. he's pulling my legs up so that he can work me through my orgasm at an angle, harshly sucking at it until I'm completely worn out.

he puts me down and I breathe deeply, try to settle the quickness of my pulse.

"how was that?" he asks, rubbing over my legs affectionately while I come down from my high.

"amazing." I sit up and start to tug at his belt in the hopes of undoing it, but Matthew removes my wrist and shakes his head. I peek up at him with a curious, disappointed expression.

"it's your day, remember?" he says it so lovingly with a slightly higher pitch than normal, soft and laced with kindness. I look at his erection, anyway, always wanting the sight of it.

"that can't be comfortable."

"oh, it's not." he laughs. I let him lift me off the bed and he guides me to the kitchen on my slightly weak legs. everything about him leaves me like that.

Matthew and I eat pizza and drink champagne while he tells me about his trip, about all the cool people he met and places he went to shoot. he shows pictures of the cast and him making silly faces, and a bakery he saw.

"all the pastries are named after amazing women," he grins and presents a photo of the interior, which is full of flowers and hues of rich blue. "so I obviously thought of you."

I smile through my bite of food, heart fluttering. he shows me a picture of a half-eaten cookie that has the silhouette of a woman on the front, sitting in a chair. it's very 1800's-looking.

"it's supposed to be Jane Austen."

"I'm jealous." I grin.

"I'll take you sometime." he puts his phone away and we go back to talking normally. I could watch his lips move forever, listen to his voice forever. there's a quality to his speech that is entirely unique, that draws me in and makes me want to claim him for life. I didn't know it was possible to want someone so completely.

I rant about the things I had to deal with today, and he chuckles at my naturally indignant tone. by the time I run out of steam, we're just sitting with pleased expressions on our faces. even when I'm angry about something that's happened earlier, he knows how to make me forget all about it.

"it would be fun for everyone to meet you." Matthew toys with the napkin in his lap. I sigh.

"as long as there's alcohol involved, sure."

"why?"

"they make me nervous!"

"you have no reason to be nervous," he shakes his head slowly. "they'll love you."

"that's the thing-- I want them to like me so badly, I'll do something to mess it up."

"you couldn't. you're adorable when you're shy." he reaches under the table and squeezes my knee reassuringly. I try to smile, but my stomach twists up at the thought. it's easy for Matthew; he's so uninhibited.

"you say that now, but it'll be a different story when I've managed to fall on my face in front of everyone."

he snorts. "okay, that would be kind of funny."

"hey!" but I'm hiding a smile.

"they'll love you," he keeps his hand on my leg as he looks at me. "you wanna know how I know?"

"how?" I wait patiently for his reply. he leans forward in his seat and beckons me closer.

"because you are the sweetest--" he kisses me. "smartest--" another peck. "funniest girl I know."

"stop." I deadpan as I turn my face away just enough for him to nuzzle my cheek with his nose as I laugh.

"not to mention the sexiest one, too." he whispers in my ear. I put my hand on his shoulder, intending to push him away playfully but finding myself not wanting to.

"I knew that's where you were gonna take that." I roll my eyes. his other hand has been creeping progressively up my thigh until his fingers brush my core. I suck in a breath, remembering that my panties are still in the bedroom.

"you want me to prove it to you?" he starts to stroke over me, gathering the wetness on his fingers that already waits for him. I let out a slight moan as he dips inside and curls his digits.

"mhmm."

he starts to finger me easily, adding a second and pumping them inside while I grip the edge of the table and watch his face concentrate on mine. he's rough and deep, the result of not having his own orgasm earlier. I can see the lust in his eyes like he can't wait to dive in. all that comes out of my mouth are chants of his name, begging for him as his thumb toys with my clit. my walls clench and his jaw hangs open with a slight smile.

"do that again." he says. I obey, squeezing my thighs around his wrist. he feels so good there, and he's not even doing that much. "god, I can't wait for you to do that on my cock."

"fuck me, then." I breathe.

"gladly," he removes his fingers so suddenly, I make a disappointed noise. "get on the table, sweetheart."

"the-- the table?" I glance down at the surface. he nods in complete seriousness. oh, wow.

we clear off the two plates and down the rest of our champagne, his lips capturing mine easily the second I turn around from putting them in the sink. he walks me back to the table, never breaking our contact, before I end up sitting on it. he's between my legs, pushing his hips to mine while he moves my dress up again.

I hum into his neck while he starts to grind against me, undoing his belt and breathing quickly in my ear. I can feel his length through the fabric, feel how desperate he is. I scoot closer to the edge and try to get more.

"are you sure you don't want me to suck your dick?" I peek at him. he tilts my face up and I feel myself sink into those dark circles around his eyes. my beautiful, haunted boy.

"I need to be inside you." he says it without an ounce of humor. every word weighted with desire as he holds me there. my insides feel like they've been electrified, nerves sparking. all I can do is nod fervidly and pull his shirt off.

he takes off his bottoms and stares back at me, stroking his cock while I trail my nails down his chest, abdomen, whatever I can find. he's so gorgeous, I want to leave marks just so I can make sure he's real. he rubs himself in my essence, then pushes the head inside.

"Matthew--" I bite down on his shoulder to silence myself as he stretches me out. it hasn't even been that long, but it feels like the first time. his head dropping down with a long, low groan of pleasure.

"I missed this." he sheathes himself inside, deep, and I feel my walls tightening around him. there's a pressure on my clit from the position we're in, too. I whine on it, letting myself wiggle impatiently.

"move." I whisper. he starts to withdraw, only about halfway, before going in again. I throw my head back at the force of his thrust, so greedy. he's groaning softly while he presses his mouth to my throat, the flutter of his breath over my skin causing shivers to run up and down my spine.

I wrap my legs around his waist and he starts to find a rhythm with my body. nails dig into his back as an anchor. the closeness of his chest to mine is comforting.

"do you know how hard it was not to get myself off, baby?" he says, the words threaded with a needy tone. I shake my head and pray he'll keep talking. "every night I'd think about you and I couldn't do anything about it."

"you could have." I taunt.

"this is better," he goes faster, clutching at my waist and legs to pull me closer. "so much better."

"yeah?" I giggle, although it's hard when he's pounding into me so hard. I cling tightly and try to meet his thrusts. he's hitting different angles within me that I didn't even know existed, tearing me apart in the absolute best way.

"I wanna be inside it all day." he moans. I'm scratching his back with the way we're working together, every word out of his mouth and the sounds he makes causing me to lose my mind. his fingers dig into my ass as he slams into me. the table shakes beneath.

"that feels so fucking good." I grab on and roll my hips against his. his hand moves to my shoulder to push the straps of my dress down.

"let me see you," he tugs them until my tits are out, at which point he grabs my waist and pulls me against him, moaning loudly at the feeling. "pretty girl."

I can feel the tidal wave building within me, the seconds that gather into one wild, exquisite torrent of pleasure. the knot in my stomach tightens as he fucks me.

"I'm gonna cum." tears prick the back of my eyes. he's working my figure so perfectly, I can barely see. my legs are shaking before I even reach the culmination.

"good." he gets erratic as he imagines how pleasurable it'll be to have me clenching around him, and I sink below the surface. my hips jerk and I cry out like it's my last time being with him, his name pouring from my mouth. Matthew speeds up.

"so... tight--" he shudders. "oh fuck-- that's it, baby, that's it."

he spills inside and it prolongs our orgasms, both of us breathing hard while I remove my arms from his shoulders and lean back on my hands against the table, him still thrusting gently into me while we hold eye contact.

when he's finished, he removes himself from me and then we're just there, looking at each other with love all over our faces.

"happy birthday, Y/N." he grins.

"can you give me one more gift?" I bite my lip. he frowns.

"oh, I have several gifts for you in my suitcase--" he starts to say with a laugh, then sees that I'm not referring to anything tangible. "yes, anything."

"can you Clorox this table, please?"

Matthew kisses my cheek. "of course."

[tripleaxeldiaz]

like it’s a little secret, like it’s all he has to give

for @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels <3

read on ao3

He didn’t mean for this to happen.

Well, no. He wanted it to happen, had been planning to make it happen with a lot more wooing and sweeping off of feet to get them to a perfect moment where he could tell Buck exactly how much he loves him and needs him in his life.

So he did want it to happen, of course. He just didn’t expect it to happen like it did — after a night out with the team, in the dim light of his living room, during a tipsy game of Truth or Dare like they were in high school again. Buck had said, “Dare”, and the three beers and two shots swimming in Eddie’s brain said, “I dare you to kiss me.”

And he did.

And one kiss turned into two, turned into making out on Eddie’s couch, turned into stumbling blindly toward the bedroom, turned into fingertips burning trails up backs, whispered confessions into necks, and muffled moans of yes and more and please and Eddie.

So it happened. It’s still happening.

That isn’t the problem. 

The problem is that it happened six months ago and they still haven’t told anyone.

It’s not that they don’t trust their friends or that they aren’t serious about each other. In fact, they’re probably too serious about each other, about making this the thing that sticks. The morning after their first night together, they talked for hours about their past failed relationships and insecurities, laying every, ugly part out for each other to see.

“I just want to be enough,” Eddie said, throat as raw as his insides felt. 

Buck’s hand slid up his back to scratch through his hair. “You’re more than enough for me. And I’d like to stick around and prove that to you, as long as you’ll let me.”

“Forever, ideally.”

“Forever it is.”

“I’m gonna fuck this up.”

Buck shrugged. “So will I. Maybe we give ourselves some time — fuck things up quietly before we let other people know?”

Eddie kissed Buck again, softly, soundly, relief surging through him because Buck gets it and wants to make this work and, this way, he feels like they may actually have a chance.

So that was that. Nothing really changed — Buck was still at the Diaz house more often than not, but now sleepovers meant Buck was in bed with Eddie instead of on the couch (except for the half hour before Chris woke up when Buck snuck out to the living room). They were still a dynamic duo on calls, they just also had each other after calls now too, especially bad ones. They were able to get to know each other as boyfriends instead of just best friends, figure out what they wanted and needed from a relationship, and smooth out the bumps they hit on their own, without any outside influence.

Now, they’re in a good spot. The best spot. And six months is a long time to keep quiet about something that makes Eddie so happy he could explode. But—

“They’re gonna be mad,” he says, head pillowed in Buck’s lap, absently picking at the label of his empty beer bottle. Buck hums, fingers combing through Eddie’s hair, the TV softly playing some reality show about a yacht crew.

“You don’t think they’ll be happy for us too?”

“They probably have a betting pool going on us. Then they’ll be mad and gloating.”

Buck’s hand stills on his head. “Eddie, if you don’t want to—”

Eddie scrambles up to sitting, taking both of Buck’s hands in his because he’s stopping that train of thought right now. “I do want to. I really do. I’m just—”

“Nervous?”

Eddie nods, absently placing a kiss inside Buck’s wrist as he gathers his thoughts. “I trust you. More than anything. And I trust us. I just don’t trust anything else, not yet. We’ve been in our own little world for a while, I just need to get used to that not being the case anymore.” 

Buck’s quiet for a minute before he leans forward, kissing Eddie’s forehead. “I don’t really trust anything else either. I’m happy to wait and follow your lead. As long as you know you’re stuck with me.”

Eddie kisses him quickly before laying back down, Buck’s hand automatically threading into his hair again. “You’re stuck with me, too. Even when cute, injured bikers try to steal me away—”

He feels a sharp tug on his hair. “I knew you did that on purpose!”

Buck’s jealous streak is a mile wide, Eddie’s known that since the day they met. So what if he’s exploited it a little while they’ve been sneaking around? How could he have known for sure that a little extra flirting on a call would get him blown within an inch of his life in a storage closet as soon as they got back to the station? He’d surely expected it, but…

Whatever. Sue him. His boyfriend’s hot when he’s territorial, and he’s only a man.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie should have known the universe would start fucking with them almost immediately.

The team has never been shy about trying to set both of them up — there’s always a friend of a friend or a second cousin or a neighbor that would be perfect for, as Hen so lovingly puts it, “our hot and lonely coworkers”. It’s only gotten worse in the past month or so, when a team trivia night turned into a team-and-significant-others trivia night, “forcing” Buck and Eddie to pair up to even things out. Ever since, he’s been cornered almost every day by Hen and/or Chim, each with a handful of people that would love to take Eddie out to dinner, and he knows they do the same to Buck. He’s pretty sure they have a shared spreadsheet about it.

“Come on Eddie, Nick is great! He’s tall, he owns a gym, his dog is cute—”

“Chim,” Eddie cuts him off, pulling his head out of the fridge to face Chimney and Hen seated at the island. He could end it now, just tell them I don’t want to go out with your new personal trainer because I already have a boyfriend, but it’s the middle of shift and everyone is still lingering from lunch and...it’s too much right now. Over Chim’s shoulder, he can see Buck looking at him from the couch, probably thinking the same thing (because they do that a little too often). Buck just raises his eyebrows and shrugs, saying I’m following your lead. Eddie falls a little bit more in love with him.

He focuses back on Hen and Chim. “I appreciate you guys worrying about me in your own weird way, but I’m fine. Plus, I have a thing and Chris’ school Thursday night anyway.” 

He does not have a thing at Chris’ school, and he feels bad using his kid like this, but drastic times call for drastic measures.

Hen holds up her hands as Chim deflates just a little. “Fine fine,” she says. “We know you’re busy.” She looks at Chim, and they have a quick conversation with their eyebrows before he gets up and slowly walks toward Buck.

“So, Buck, my dear pseudo brother-in-law. How’s your Thursday—”

Buck doesn’t even look up from his book. “No. Maddie and I are having a wine night, and we’re gonna talk shit about you the entire time.”

Chim squawks at that, and Eddie does a bad job of turning his laugh into a cough. It does get them to back off for the rest of the week, though Eddie resigns himself to this vicious cycle of theirs until he can finally shake the feeling that everything he and Buck have been building will dissolve through his fingertips as soon as they let anyone else in. 

It’s vicious but predictable. Easy to follow, easy to get ahead of. It gives Eddie a little room to breathe while he sorts his head out.

Naturally, that’s when Abuela decides to get involved.

Eddie’s never been able to refuse her anything — that’s how he ended up at her house on his day off in the first place, fixing a broken dryer and tightening cabinets and anything else she happens to remember she needs while he’s here. He really doesn’t mind, and he’s happy to spend any time with her that he can, but she’s been...prying. All day. As casually as she can, but he can tell she’s fishing for something. 

“Edmundo,” she says as they sit down for lunch. “You’re telling me you can’t even remember the last time you went on a date?”

Of course he can — he and Buck haven’t been able to go on many “normal” dates since they got together, but they did manage to coordinate a weekend in Ojai a few weeks back where all they did was eat, lounge by the pool, and have sex in their much-too-fancy-for-them hotel room. 

That counts as a couple of dates, right?

He shrugs instead. “I’ve been busy. Between work and Chris, I’ve just got a lot on my plate. I don’t really have time for dating.” And I don’t think my boyfriend would be too happy about it, he thinks.

“Of course,” she says. She keeps eating like that’s the end of that, but he knows there’s something else. When she finishes, she pushes her plate aside and looks at him dead on, with that There’s no way you’re getting out of this look in her eyes. “You know, if you did want to get out there again, my friend Diana has a granddaughter around your age that just moved to LA and wants to meet some people.”

There it is.

“Abuela, I really don’t think—” 

“It doesn’t have to be a date, it can just be dinner! The two of you getting to know each other. She’s sweet, she’s beautiful, and she’s a teacher, so she’s great with kids. At the very least, she could be a good friend.” She reaches across the table and grabs his hand in both of hers. “You work too hard, Edmundo. You deserve to do something nice for yourself, and that can be as easy as going out to a nice restaurant with a pretty girl for one night.”

He should tell her. He should tell her everything, even though Buck’s not here, even though he still has a stupid voice in his head telling him that as soon as their bubble pops, the likelihood of everything going belly up will skyrocket. He doesn’t want to lead this poor girl on, but Abuela is also looking at him all sad and hopeful, because she does want him to be happy, and—

“Fine. One dinner.”

Abuela cheers, actually cheers, and hugs him tightly before getting her phone. She calls Diana to set everything up themselves, rather than giving Eddie the girl’s — Chelsea’s — number. By the time he leaves, they’re set for 8pm next Friday at an Italian place downtown, and they each have a description of what the other will be wearing. “Like a real blind date,” Abuela says, and Eddie tries not to actually kick himself for falling into this trap.

He needs to get out of this. Abuela wouldn’t give him her number (“so your first meeting will be as magical as possible”), so he’ll just have to tell her right from the start on Friday. He feels bad, but hopefully she’s as nice as he’s been told and she takes it okay. And should he tell Buck? Probably, but is it even an issue if he’s not actually going through with the date? Buck’s working an overnight on Friday, so he won’t even be around when he’s supposed to be out. He could smooth it all over himself and then really sit down and get his shit together to figure out how they’re going to tell everyone, so no more fake dates happen ever again. 

He’s got this. It’s not his best idea ever, but it’ll have to do. Everything will be totally fine.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Eds? You home?”

Shit.

Eddie scrambles to shut his bedroom door, tripping over himself in the process and landing flat on his back. That’s how Buck finds him, and his stomach drops as he watches Buck’s face switch between worry and confusion as he takes in Eddie’s button down and slacks.

“Uh, hey,” he says. Buck offers a hand to help him up. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I’m on my way, just needed to grab my phone charger,” Buck says as he pulls Eddie up, checking him out again like he’s confirming that his brain isn’t playing tricks on him. “You’re awfully dressed up for your night off.”

Eddie sighs heavily through his nose. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid, and if he had left 10 minutes earlier like he meant to it would have been fine. But now Buck’s here, and he refuses to lie to him. He’s already been lying by omission enough this week.

“Abuela kinda set me up for dinner with her friend’s granddaughter,” he says quickly, panicking when Buck’s eyes go wide and his cheeks go pale. “But,” he moves closer, placing both hands firmly on Buck’s shoulders, taking it as a good sign that he doesn’t pull away, “I’m just going long enough to tell her that I’m very taken and this whole thing was a mistake. I promise, nothing was ever going to happen.” Buck does pull away then, and Eddie’s hands fall heavily back to his sides. “Buck, please—”

“I know,” he says quietly. “I know you wouldn’t do that to me. But Eds, I told you I’d follow your lead when it came to telling people about us, and if that meant fake dating other people that’s cool, I just wish you talked to me about it first. We’ve got to communicate and stuff, we’re on the same team here.”

“You’re right,” Eddie says. He slowly reaches for Buck’s hands, relieved again when he lets him. “I should have told you. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, and I didn’t want you to worry or think things were bad with us, because they’re not. But still. I’m sorry.” Buck doesn’t move, just stares at the floor. Eddie squeezes his hands. “Are we good?”

Buck finally looks up, and Eddie can’t get a read on his emotions like he usually can. But he squeezes his hands back and gives him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’re good. But I should get going.” He slips out of Eddie’s hands and out the front door without another word. 

There was no yelling or accusations or anything bad, really, but Eddie still feels gutted, like every fear he had about messing up is starting to manifest like he knew they would. He should go after Buck, tell him how much he loves him, how much he trusts him, but he’s 20 minutes late now, and when he pictures Chelsea standing all by herself in a crowded restaurant looking for him, he feels a whole different wave of guilt crash inside him.

He’s going to fix this, all of this. He has to. And he’s got a 30 minute drive to think of a new plan.

~~~~~~~~~~

The drive ends up being closer to an hour, and all Eddie does is convince himself that the next time Buck sees him, he’s going to realize that Eddie’s not good enough for him and break up with him on the spot.

The restaurant is loud and crowded, lit mainly by the low candles placed on each table. Eddie’s eyes scan the room until he spots her at the bar — emerald dress and gold heels, just like Diana had told him. He slides into the empty seat next to her, awkwardly waving to get her attention. “Chelsea?”

She looks at him with a warm smile. “Edmundo, right?”

“Eddie’s fine.” He steals himself, figures ripping the band-aid right off is probably the best thing to do. “Look, I’m really sorry—”

“That’s not a great way to start a date.”

Guilt curls tighter in his stomach and up his arms. “This has been a huge misunderstanding. I’m kind of— I’m already in a relationship, and we haven’t told anyone, and my abuela was just trying to help, and she knows I can’t say no to her, and now everything is falling apart.” He feels even worse dumping all this on a woman he’s known for three minutes, but his brain seems to be doing its own thing at the moment, he’s just along for the ride.

She looks at him for a minute, before waving the bartender over. “Well, you’re here, and you sound like you’re about to lose your mind. Have one drink with me, and tell me everything.”

So he orders a Jack on the rocks and spills his guts — tells her about Buck, about why they kept everything under wraps, his plans to fix everything, how he’s so fucking scared that once everyone knows and their little fantasy world is gone, Buck will realize that he can do better, that he deserves better, and Eddie will have to put himself back together somehow. He’s not sure exactly how long he talks, but Chelsea listens intently to every word, and Eddie actually feels better when he’s done.

She finishes the last of her gin and tonic and looks him right in the eye. “I know we just met, but can I be real with you?”

Eddie nods as he knocks back his own drink.

“Your plans suck.”

He laughs and almost shoots whiskey out of his nose. “Yeah, I think I’m starting to figure that out too.”

“Look — you love your boyfriend, right?” she asks as she hands him a napkin.

“Of course. More than anything.”

“And he loves you.”

He thinks about the way Buck looks at him, no matter where they are, like he's the only person worth looking at. How it took a little while, but now he actually feels worthy of a gaze like that. “Yeah, he does.”

She shrugs. “Then it sounds like you have nothing to worry about. You have each other — everything and everyone else is just background noise.”

It’s such a simple thing, something Eddie’s known for months now, but hearing it come from someone else gives his mind that final shove that makes everything click into place and finally stick. They do have each other, he and Buck are a team, on and off the clock. That’s not going to change, if anything because they’re both too stubborn and in too deep to let it change.

“I know you’re already a teacher, but you should seriously consider becoming a therapist if you ever switch careers.”

“Believe me, this is nothing compared to the middle school problems I deal with on a daily basis.”

He shudders at the very idea of dealing with that many 13 year olds. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but thanks.” Slumping back in his chair, he scrubs a hand over his face. “I don’t even know how to start fixing this.”

Chelsea hums, face scrunched as she thinks. “You said he’s at work right? With all your friends too?” Eddie nods. “Sounds like as good a time as any to tell them. And remind Buck that you're with him one hundred percent.”

Eddie’s never been one for big, romantic gestures, but she’s right, and this is for Buck. He’ll do pretty much anything for Buck.

He stands, takes some cash out of his wallet for their drinks and places it on the bar. “Thank you Chelsea, seriously. This was...weird, and not a good first impression of me, but you’re a lifesaver.”

She smiles that warm smile again, and it feels real, no trace of pity or awkwardness. “No problem, I’m happy to help. Maybe we can get coffee sometime, as friends? I didn’t get a chance to dive into my own relationship woes.”

“Deal,” he says, laughing as he hands her his phone to actually get her number. They hug goodbye, and he all but sprints out the door and back to his truck, mind already racing trying to figure out what the hell he’s going to do once he gets to the firehouse. 

If he’s honest, this “date” really couldn’t have gone any better. He hopes the rest of his night turns out just as positive, too.

~~~~~~~~~~

The team’s in between calls when Eddie finally arrives, which is great but also does not give him a lot of time to prepare himself for whatever comes next. Rationally, he knows everything will be fine — the team will be thrilled for them, Buck will be thrilled — but there’s still that nagging voice telling him that Chelsea was wrong and that everything’s going to blow up in his face.

He shoves that voice as far away as he can and walks into the station.

There’s no plan this time beyond “find Buck”, which he does pretty quickly once he gets up to the loft. Everyone else is up here too, it seems, but he sees Buck first, curled up on the couch and watching Hen and Chim play Super Smash Bros. He has that same blank look he had on his face when he left Eddie’s earlier, and Eddie hates it. But that’s exactly what he came here to fix.

Buck double takes when he notices him at the top of the stairs, slowly unfurling himself to stand. “What are you doing here?”

A thousand thoughts fly through his head, trying to coalesce into some sweeping romantic speech that would reassure Buck of all the things Eddie’s sure he’s doubting right now. But nothing feels right, nothing even begins to scratch the surface of what Eddie’s feeling, has been feeling for the past months. Everything is fleeting and empty, pale in comparison to the technicolor love he feels every time Buck so much as looks in his direction.

Words aren’t working, but Eddie really isn’t a man of words anyway — he is, however, and man of action.

“I’m communicating,” he says, taking three long strides across the loft to Buck, grabbing his face in both of his hands, and kissing him hard. He tastes like smoke and peppermint and something fundamentally Buck that Eddie’s addicted to, and he feels a smile against his lips as Buck kisses him back in earnest. He’s not sure if it’s been seconds or years when they finally pull away from each other, but they’re both breathless and Buck is glowing and Eddie doesn’t care about anything else.

“I love you,” he says, hands still on Buck’s cheeks. “And I’m sorry. I’m always on your team, as long as you’ll let me be there.” 

Buck’s smile somehow gets even bigger. “Forever, ideally.”

Eddie’s laugh bubbles out of him as he leans back in, but stops when he hears a throat clearing somewhere to his right. He looks, and everyone — everyone, including people who were definitely downstairs when he got here — is staring at them with varying degrees of shock and excitement on their faces. Ripping the band-aid off works in his favor again.

“So,” Hen says slowly from the couch. “This is new.”

Eddie shrugs as he grabs Buck’s hand. “Not really. Unless six months old is new, I guess.”

“Six months old?”

“Closer to seven, actually,” Buck says.

There’s a clatter as Chim drops his controller and stands, arms up over his head. “That means I win!”

“Whoa, hold on, you do not—”

The loft erupts as everyone swarms Hen, talking technicalities and logistics of what was apparently a very elaborate betting pool. Buck hides his face in Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs.

“Do you think they’re actually happy for us?” Eddie asks. “Or mad that we screwed up their winnings?”

Buck looks up, resting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Probably both. But I’m the real winner here.”

“And a huge cheeseball,” Eddie says.

“Better get used to it, because you’re not getting rid of me,” Buck says, winding his arms around Eddie’s waist and kissing him again.

“Forever, right?” Eddie asks as they break apart, foreheads resting together. All he sees are Buck’s eyes, sparkling blue in the light of the loft and so full of happiness — happiness because of Eddie — that he wants to drown in them.

“Yeah. Forever. No turning back now.”

Eddie likes the sound of that.

[crazybutgood]

International Tea Day!

(Drarry tea blend by Ela Spearlot)

International Tea Day is celebrated on 15th Dec in many tea-producing countries since 2005. Apparently, the UN changed the date to 21 May this year and I didn’t know until recently :( Oh well, I’m still going to celebrate it today, and I thought I’d use this opportunity to do something using two of my absolute favourite things: tea and Drarry. Here are some lovely fics involving tea that will warm you up like a good, steaming cuppa <3 (special thanks to @curlyy-hair-dont-care for her great feedback and for helping me put this together, and to @sitp-recs for your helpful tips and kind words)

Bite-sized:

Tea at three by @dorthyanndrarry​ (T, ~8.9k)

Draco Malfoy is the head potion brewer for the Ministry's onsite supply. Every day at three he goes to the nearest break room which coincidentally happens to be the auror break room, where he always seems to run into Harry Potter, who might also be waiting just for him. It's most certainly not the highlight of his day and he certainly doesn't hold anything other than friendly feelings towards Potter. It's just tea. Nothing more than tea at three.

A sweet fic where these two dorks finally get together with some help from their friends. Warnings for blood and injury in one scene.

A special blend of you and me by germankitty (T, 4.5k)

Draco finds a bunch of letters in Professor Snape's effects that were written by Lily Evans to her best friend at school, Marlene McKinnon. He passes them on to Harry, who consequently starts his own correspondence with Draco. (inspired by Tea and Lost Letters: Lily to Marlene by Kikimay)

A charming epistolary fic, featuring a great selection of teas, snarky and amusing letters that become progressively less formal and more intimate, and a delightful surprise by Draco at the end.

Portkey for Tea by @lettersbyelise (T, ~1.8k)

Draco is doing a two months residency at a Wizarding hospital in San Diego. Harry misses him too much to wait for him to come back to England.

How far would you travel for a special someone a cup of tea? Lovely established relationship fic with the two missing each other and Harry doing something about it.

Red Roses and Rousing Rumours by @dracogotgame (T, ~1.4k)

Draco's taste for rose water tea puts him in hot water.

A super cute one-shot where a misunderstanding on Harry’s part leads to Draco snagging a date with him (after being asked out in the sweetest way!)

Prompts: I love you - Over a Cup of Tea by @cibeewastaken (G, 362)

(this was my ask lol) Short one-shot of soft moments and tea flowers.

Prompts: I love you - On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair by @cibeewastaken (G, 745)

Another lovely one-shot with sun tea and little Teddy trying to cheer Draco up. Featuring Teddy’s sweet innocence, shy boys in love and a confession that will warm your heart.

Why Is Our Teapot Wearing a Hat? by @ladderofyears (G, microfic, 50)

Adorable microfic based on the prompt ‘cosy’.

Rotten work by @prolix- (T, 792)

You start to cry after the war.

You tell Ron and Hermione that it's nothing, that it'll pass. You're just exhausted. It’s more than that, of course it is, but they don't question it. And you learn to hide the fact that you can still be found hunched over your kitchen sink after a party, fat tears rolling down your face, years after the war has passed.

He knows better.

Heart-achingly beautiful fic with lovely tea metaphors. Featuring sad yet tender moments between the boys, healing and hope. Warnings for implied/referenced PTSD, angst, crying and hurt/comfort)

Curl up with a cuppa to enjoy these longer fics:

Where There is Tea by @bafflinghaze (T, ~12.6k)

Somewhere in London, overlooking a garden, sits a little tea room. There, Harry finds tea, distraction, books, conversation, inspiration, himself, and Draco Malfoy.

Featuring Tea Master!Draco and Writer!Harry, this is a heartwarming story of supportive friends, coming out, self-discovery and a lovely buildup of friendship between Harry and Draco that blossoms into something more. Lots of amazing and familiar teas to look out for that you wish you were tasting along with the patrons at Draco’s tea shop.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, ~70k)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he's falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

Draco’s stuck in a time loop until he figures out what he has to do to get out of it — learning, growing and becoming a better person with much help from his mother, Hagrid, and Harry, and conversations over tea.

Headlights in the Snow by Saras_Girl (M, ~71.6k)

What’s big and purple and smells like tea? Harry is about to find out. 

Advent fic 2016.

Harry has bizarre adventures with Knight Bus conductor Draco and the lovely passengers. A cosy Christmas advent getting-together fic featuring fun bus rides and on-board tea.

Special mention of fics that I associate with tea also kind of in order to remember them:

For the greater good by @jadepresley (E, ~62k)

When Harry and Draco discover they’ve been bonded to one another, neither one of them is prepared for the secrets they slowly begin to uncover.

Together, they learn that they can’t escape their past, or the things that have been left hidden there, and that sometimes the only way to move forward is to look back.

An accidental bonding fic that I absolutely adore

Malfoy rolls his eyes. “I’m not a monster, Potter, you arsehole. Though I do think you’re delusional if you think the whole wizarding world doesn’t love you.”

Harry shakes his head. “No. They love the idea of me. They love the stories. But they don’t… they don’t know how I take my tea in the morning, do they?”

“Excuse me?”

Harry flushes. He hadn’t meant to say that. Bloody Firewhisky. “It’s just this thing I believe. And Emmet — my ex — never knew. It’s… nevermind, you’ll think it's stupid.”

“That’s definitely possible,” Malfoy agrees seriously. “But you should tell me anyway.”

“You’re a prat, you know,” Harry tells him. Malfoy just smirks, making Harry sigh. “Fine,” he concedes. “It’s just... The way you take your tea is one of those small details about yourself that no one else would really know unless they asked. But... someone who really gives a shit about you would know — they’d ask or they’d notice — because they’d care enough to want to know. And Emmet... well, he just never cared enough about me to learn how I take my tea.”

I love that this fic uses this idea, partly also because this is something I’ve thought of too, not just for romantic relationships but relationships in general, and I was so happy to see it used in this fic.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by @firethesound (E, ~149.5k)

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

Discovering this fic was one of the best things ever. It’s an emotional roller coaster. Harry and Draco eventually go from polite coworkers, to tentative friends, to lovers — of course with a lot of drama and angst in between. These two bicker about so many things. One of them is how Harry never makes the tea hot enough, and it’s used throughout the fic in many important and special moments of their relationship.

Happy reading!

[lightbeyondeden]

Beachouse

Beachouse

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

a/n: i like to imagine this one with like,, season 4 spence cause I think that just the right amount of innocent yet horny for this oneshot but it's up to you. Also i used a bunch of dialogue prompts from this list :) see if you can spot them! 

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: kinda smut!! spencer being horny, alcohol, cursing, makeout sesh with heavy petting lol

masterlist

She was trying to kill him.

 As a man of logic and reasoning, Spencer had concluded the only probable reason his very attractive coworker would insist on parading around the small cabin the team had rented for the weekend in those tiny white cotton shorts was that she wanted to kill him. 

Spencer had always found her attractive. He would’ve had to have been blind not to, and even if he was he still would’ve fallen for the sound of her laugh or the way she left the smell of lavender wherever she sat on the jet or how she was always first to fall asleep after long days spent working cases. 

So maybe he had fallen in love with her - even if he hadn’t quite admitted it to himself yet. Love, however, was not quite what he felt as he watched Y/n walk lazily into the kitchen on that Saturday morning.

Spencer had been sitting on one of the barstools that lined the kitchen counter and sipping on a very sugary cup of coffee. He was passively listening to both the birds chirping outside the oversized cabin window and JJ’s latest story about Henry. He had felt nothing but peace, until she walked in. 

She was wearing a baby blue tank top (with no bra, not that Spencer was looking of course it’s just that as she was walking in and his eyes just happened to graze over her hard nip-, nevermind.) and those white shorts. The outfit was probably perfect for sleeping in the cabin that - even now in the early hours of the morning - remained hot and humid. It was not, however, perfect for just chatting with Spencer, he already felt an uncomfortable stirring in his pants.  

“Hey guys.” She smiled, voice still soft with sleep.

“Hi Y/n, you sleep well?” JJ said without missing a beat, “Lemme get you some coffee.”

JJ got out of her seat and set to work making a new cup of coffee from the keurig that sat on the counter behind her.

“Thank you Jayge, you’re my favourite.” Y/n laughed. 

Spencer watched with intent as she brushed her hand through her bedhead and took her own seat at the counter across from him. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/n said as she locked eyes with Spencer. 

Crap, he hadn’t meant to stare. Honestly though, he couldn’t help it. So much of her body was on display and though Spencer considered himself to be a respectful man, he had dreamt of that body more times than he cared to admit and seeing it like this was driving him crazy. 

“Like what?” He replied, hoping that playing dumb would get him out of this.

She eyed him suspiciously, however Spencer was saved from the incoming interrogation by JJ returning, coffee in hand. 

Y/n gratefully took the cup in her hands and sipped in gently. Try as he might, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at her over and over again as conversation between the three resumed. 

Slowly the rest of the team began to wake up and wander into the kitchen. Conversation was playful and light, this vacation being exactly the break they needed from their stressful work lives. It may have only been four days, but any amount of time that they didn’t have to spend talking about all the horrible things they saw each day was time they thoroughly enjoyed. 

“So I was thinking we could take a trip down to that hidden beach the airBNB people were telling us about. It would be fun to all go swimming together!” Penelope had said, big doe eyes daring someone to try telling her no.

So that's why a team of thirty to fifty somethings were all walking down a wooden boardwalk together, arms filled with floaties and towing a wagon full of snacks (wagon courtesy of JJ). Spencer just happened to look over at Y/n at the exact moment the beach came into view, and he couldn’t have been more grateful for that because getting to see the way her face lit up when she saw the lake made his day.

“There's a doc!?” She squealed, “Morgan! I’ll race you to it.” 

And just like that  - the two of them took off, splashing into the water and yelling playful challenges and insults at each other, Emily and Penelope close behind. Spencer just chuckled as he settled down into the sand with a pile of books beside them. 

Truth be told he didn’t get much reading done. He chatted with JJ and Rossi, he binged on candy and chips, and most often, spent the day ogling Y/n. He just couldn’t understand how she managed to look so perfect even after Derek had thrown her off the floating wooden dock for what must’ve been the thirtieth time that day. 

When she finally came marching up the beach, soaking wet and out of breath, Spencer wondered if there was ever a situation where she could look bad. Covered in goosebumps - though the sun was sweltering hot - she tightly wrapped a towel around herself and plopped down in the sand between JJ and Rossi. 

“Hey SP!” He chuckled at her nickname for him “Can you pass that bag of chips over here please?”

The rest of the day was spent soaking in the sun. It was full of jokes and swimming and Y/n’s head on Spencer's shoulder. He watched her and JJ pass a volleyball back and forth, he saw the team smile more in one afternoon than he had in the last month. They finally decided to pack it in the sun was nothing more than a sliver on the horizon. 

They walked home to the dulcet sounds of crickets and Penelope's voice retelling all the best stories of the day. Spencer's mind moved much faster than his feet did, but all thoughts were halted when he felt a cold set of fingers grab onto his hand. That was one of his favourite things about her - the fact that she loved physical touch. Of course, at first he had a strong aversion to her love of hugs, hand holding, and cuddles, but as they grew into a close knit partnership he found himself longing for a hug from her after hard cases or for her hand to hold when he's walking to the bookstore. 

When the team got back to their beach house it was quiet for a moment, as everyone was worn down from all their hours in the sun, their skin kissed with its warmth even though it had set more than an hour ago. Emily, ever a shit disturber, broke the serenity the walk home had created the second she broke out the bottles of wine from the fridge.

Y/n’s had slipped out of Spencers as she and the girls got to work pouring and drinking as many glasses as they could get out of each bottle.

“Movie time!” Penelope declared, plopping herself down on the couch between Derek and Rossi. 

Everyone else settled in, and Penelope flicked through Netflix - occasionally announcing a title to the group to gauge a reaction and giving her own opinions on each. She finally landed on ‘Clueless’, a film Spencer had never heard of - despite Penelope and JJ insisting it was a classic. 

Everyone was tired, you could tell that without being a profiler, but the group was so set on finishing their day together that everyone sat and watched the movie with heavy eyelids. Y/n was hit by sleep like a truck, and Spencer could tell. Her head fell on Spencer's shoulder and he let his own arms rest around her. It was fine, they were best friends. Best friends can cuddle on late nights - it doesn't mean anything to either of them anyway. 

Except it did. It meant everything to Spencer. When he grabbed her hand it wasn’t even really a conscious decision, he just reached out and gripped onto her - he barely even noticed that he did it. 

Y/n noticed. 

Her eyes shot up to meet his own. 

“What was that for?” Her tone was joking but there was a realness behind the whispered question. 

“I’m holding your hand because the movie is scary, alright?  It’s a… Terrifying… Rom-com… ” Spencer defended. 

They both looked up at the screen to see a scene of a blonde girl driving a jeep down the middle of the road and burst into laughter, gaining some looks and laughs from the other people in the room. 

“I mean, you’re right. Unsafe driving practices sure are terrifying. Why do you think Hotch doesn’t let me drive anymore?”

“Because it's a hazard to everyone in the car and the berau called you ‘a hazard to the safety of yourself and your team’ when you drive?” Spencer quipped back, earning more laughter from the rest of the group.

Y/n just shook her head and laughed before dropping back down onto Spencer’s shoulder. However Spencer went the other direction, releasing his grasp on Y/n’s hand and setting it at his side instead.

“Why’d you let go of me?” She whispered into his ear. 

Spencer allowed himself to let out some of what he had been feeling for as long as he had known her. He looked her dead in the eyes and and tried to communicate all of his feelings telepathically - but all he said was;

“I was scared...”

She looked at him and Spencer suddenly changed his mind about the whole telepathy thing, suddenly praying she can’t see the longing in his eyes.

“Come with me.”

So they got up, said a very rushed goodnight to their friends, and took off towards Y/n’s bedroom. When she opens the door Spencer is hit by a wall of the vanilla perfume she uses. If it was anyone else, he would have found it overwhelming, but because it was her it was more like something intoxicating. 

She sat him down on the bed and took a spot beside him. Her eyes looked up and met his honey brown ones, and in hindsight Spencer swore he could pick that as the exact moment his heart rate picked up. 

“So are you gonna tell me what’s been going on with you? Why you’ve been acting so strange?” She was still whispering even though the group was well out of earshot. 

He didn’t respond, his head was fuzzy and he was just trying his best to put together a coherent thought.

“I’m your friend SP!” She laughed, trying again “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Sometimes I want to makeout with you, is that a friend thing to do?” 

Spencer's words hung in the air and he so badly wished he could take them back. Why would he jeopardize the relationship he had with her? For what? Some inane fantasy he had where they were together? The silence made the air crushingly heavy, and Spencer got up to leave but was stopped by her gripping his arm. 

She stood up and cupped her hand on his face, and it felt like they stood there like that for an hour. Spencer so desperately wanted to close the gap between them but the paralyzing fear that he was badly misreading her gesture stopped him. 

But then she did. She pushed her lips against his and Spencer immediately melted into her. Soft fingertips on his cheeks turned into hands intertwined in his curls, his own hands finding their rightful spot on her hips. 

They tangled together, the room filled with the sound of their desperate breaths. In an uncharacteristic burst of confidence Spencer ran a hand under her top and rested it on the small of her back. That was all the encouragement Y/n needed to clamber into his lap, never even breaking their kiss. 

“Wait-” Spencer pulled back, breathless, “What does this mean? What are we doing?”

“I love you. It took me way too long to realize it but I just want to spend all my time with you, that's how I know. I love you.” Y/n whispered into his neck, still perched gently on top of him. 

Spencer laughed a little at the absurdity of this moment. Girls like Y/n don’t love guys like Spencer - he almost wouldn’t believe it if it was any other girl. But it wasn’t any other girl, he trusted Y/n with his life - he knew she meant it.

“I love you too. I always have.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss her again.

~

Click.

Spencer jolted awake to the sound of Penelope’s cell phone camera going off. He moved to rub his eyes but found that his right arm was trapped under a shirtless Y/n. 

Now he understood why Penelope was taking pictures. 

“I got asked to check on you two - you know, see if you were awake.” Penelope was obviously trying very hard to hold back her excitement. “However it seems like I am interrupting something. So I will leave you lovebirds to it.” 

She turned and sauntered out the door, but Spencer heard her laughing to herself in the hallway and he knew that in a few minutes the whole world would know exactly what Penelope thought about the compromising position she had just found them in. 

The world could wait though, Spencer decided. Y/n had stayed peacefully asleep somehow, and he could feel the heat of her bare skin all over him. 

So he pulled her closer, for that one more minute of bliss. One more minute of happiness.

 One more minute of Y/n.

[collabwithmyself]

character intros, from the perspective of a cranky convenience store employee

This lady clearly doesn't wanna be here any more than I do. Her brown hair is a rat's nest, and the Ugg boots and fluffy coat thrown on over a rumpled dress shirt and tie tell me that she likely didn't bother changing out of her work clothes the night before. Her glasses are lopsided on her round face, and she picks nervously at the acne pockmarking her face as she sifts through the cooler for drinks.

She doesn't look to make conversation, thank God, just sets her food down and returns my obligatory hello with as much enthusiasm as I offered it with - not much at all. As she paws through her jacket for her wallet, she asks for the cheapest scratch-off ticket we have - but as I bend to tear one off the roll, she swears under her breath.

I have a sinking feeling I know what's wrong, but I ask anyway. "Ma'am? Everything alright?"

"I'll go put-- I'll go put this back. I forgot my wallet. Sorry, sir."

Fucking figures. She scoops everything back into her arms and hurries away, gait uneven. At least she actually volunteered to put everything away again, unlike most other customers...

¤

The sound of the door rattling in its frame makes me jump a good inch into the air. My head whips around. Who the hell is here at one in the morning besides my sorry ass?

From the light of the storefront, I can make out a shock of dark, curly hair, bleached at the tips. The person's gotta be no more than five feet tall, and draped in some weird cloak thing. She's also attempting to push on a pull door.

I wait for a good thirty seconds for her to figure it out, and when she doesn't, I groan and meander my way around the counter. I figure she's drunk or something, but when I push open the door for her, she doesn't seem to be that impaired.

"Oh, look at that!" she chirps, no trace of sheepishness in her tone. Her hair falls over one eye, but the other twinkles with innocent delight. She stumbles past me and immediately knocks over one of the wet floor signs - maybe she isn't as sober as I thought. Good thing the floor already dried up after I mopped.

"Hey, do you guys have, um. Um, um, um." She snaps her fingers a few times, and I raise my brows impatiently at her. "Soda. Do you have soda. The big ones. And the. The little white bitches. Comes in a little tube."

"...mints?"

"Yeah! Those! You've got those, right?"

Who the hell is pulling the Coke and Mentos trick at one in the morning? "We do," I sigh, hoping against hope that this person isn't going to try anything stupid in the parking lot.

¤

"What the fuck," I mumble to myself as this actual goddamn vampire strides into the store. Then I clear my throat and greet him like I'm supposed to.

The tall, pale man turns towards me and flashes a smile full of sharp teeth. "Hullo!"

What the fuck. I try to catch the eye of my coworker, but they're busy cooking wings for the hot display case. What the fuck.

The customer's dark, tattered trenchcoat reaches all the way down to his feet, giving the impression that he's gliding along instead of walking. His spiky hair makes him look even taller than he is. He's delicate with his hold as he picks out and examines sandwiches from the display cooler, scrutinizing the labels and seals. Whoever this guy is, he's meticulous, and his presence makes me more and more nervous the longer he stays.

Eventually, he glides up to the register with a basket full of sandwiches, adjusting the scarf around his neck. "How are you today, ssir?" he hisses-- actually hisses-- to me.

It takes everything I have to keep my voice steady when I answer, "fine, and you?" I keep my gaze on the food I'm ringing up for him, so I don't have to stare up and up into his piercing eyes.

"Oh, I'm quite alright. Nicce weather we're having, don't you think..." He pauses to read my name tag. "...Gray? Iss that short for Graysson?"

He knows my name. I want to die. "Y-Yes, sir."

"What a lovely name! Well, anyway, Graysson, it'ss a lovely day out, it'ss much niccer here than in the UK, you know..."

He's a chatterbox, and I don't want to risk upsetting him by urging him along. I watch helplessly as other customers begin to queue up behind him. My coworker is still busy with cooking food. I'm trapped, and he seems to be in no rush at all. What did I do to deserve this?

[hottestthingalive]

a storm in your eyes (lightning and dark skies)

It is then, with Virgil curled up against him, wet hair soaking Logan’s neck and the smell of hot chocolate in the air, that Logan realizes he loves a thunderstorm in human form. 

His best friend.

Oh, god, Logan is in love with his best friend. And also his roommate. And also his favorite person in the whole of the universe.

(He’s pretty sure that if Virgil could hear his thoughts, and if, y’know, Virgil wasn’t the person in question, he’d roll his eyes and say, “Oh my god, they were roommates.” The idea nearly makes him laugh.) 

–

Notes: Thank you so much to @snek-snacc, @smileyzs, @confused-sunflower, @xaimelarks​, and all my other followers for putting up with me ranting about this story, and helping me edit. Y’all are the best!

Edit: After publishing this, I got this AMAZING piece of art from @ent-is-undecisive / @birdsongisland! Go check them out, because they’re insanely talented, and looking at this piece makes me so so so happy!

Two sequels also exist for this now! 

waffles and wedding vows (promises and proof)

songs and stars and silence (of loving you)

Hope you enjoy!

Relationships: Romantic Analogical, background romantic Royaliceit, background romantic Intrusleep/rem^2, platonic drlamper

Words: 6885

Ao3

–

Logan Sanders falls in love with a thunderstorm.

Well, not a thunderstorm, exactly. As far as Logan knows (and he knows quite a lot), a tempest, no matter how powerful, cannot take the form of a human.

Still, the first time the boy with a hurricane’s eyes enters Mugnificent (the coffee shop Logan very reluctantly works at), he swears the smell of ozone fills the air. 

His name is Virgil Foley, and he sweeps into Logan’s life like a summer storm, filling it with wind and chaos and unmatched wild beauty. 

The first time they meet, it is 5:26 in the morning, and he’s considering revolt. Yes, he needs this job to supplement his scholarship, but being up this early is awful enough to warrant mutiny. Besides, customers are few this early in the day, and thus the tip jar is woefully empty. 

The door opens with a ding 

(there is a smell like lightning)

and in walks a person with dark hair tied in a bun under a black beanie, rummaging around in their backpack. Their bag is covered in pins, and Logan notes a rainbow one near the center. 

“Hey,” they say, and he meets eyes the color of stormclouds, a grey bordering on purple and blue simultaneously. “Can I just get a small coffee, please? Black is fine.” 

“Yeah,” Logan nods. “Name?”

They glance around the empty Mugnificent with a raised eyebrow, but reply with “Virgil,” anyways. 

“Nice to meet you, Virgil,” says Logan, and he’s not normally one for small talk, but he also is sleep-deprived, and too tired to have any sort of filter. “I’m Logan.”

Virgil relaxes, and they hold out a hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you, too. I use he/him pronouns, by the way.”

“Ah, yes,” Logan nods, returning the handshake. “He/him for me, as well, thank you.”

Virgil pays and waits by the counter as Logan goes to prepare the coffee, scrolling through his phone. There is a comfortable silence as he makes the drink, which Logan spends mentally cursing out Roman, his coworker who was supposed to arrive for work thirty minutes ago. “Here,” he says finally, holding out the cup for Virgil to take. 

“Thanks.” Virgil is wearing fingerless gloves, and his nails are painted a bright purple. They shine in the fluorescent lighting. “Have a nice day, Logan.”

“You too,” he replies, and it seems too little. Logan doesn’t believe in magic, or gods, or destiny, but as he watches Virgil turn, about to walk out the door, something twangs in his chest. Despite himself, Logan opens his mouth, searching for something to say, anything that will make him stay. 

He blinks, about to speak, and Virgil is gone.

A few minutes later, it begins to rain. 

–

The second time he meets Virgil, it is in his psych class. 

Logan has always liked psychology. It’s fascinating how the human brain works, he thinks, and even if he isn’t always so good at understanding emotions, he’s quite good at the science behind them. His appreciation for said science is the only reason he signs up for the class at all, when it has practically nothing to do with his astrophysics major. 

He’s just about forgotten about the boy with eyes of a storm by the time he sits down for the first psychology class of the semester, pulling his computer and textbooks out of his own bag, and setting them before him. Logan cracks the knuckles on each hand individually, a nervous habit he’s had since he was in high school. He’s done his best to break it, but he supposes, as annoying as it is, it’s better than some of the alternatives.

Case in point, the boy from Mugnificent, who walks into the room nervously tapping his thigh while chewing at his lip. There’s a split in it, one that shines a bright red against the chapped surface, and Logan wants to wince just looking at it. 

His eyes flash with recognition as he spots Logan in one of the back rows, and he pauses. “Logan, right? From the coffee place.”

“And you’re Virgil,” Logan smiles, and okay, maybe he hadn’t forgotten Virgil so much as attempted to forget him. 

“Can I sit there?” he asks, nodding to the seat beside Logan. 

It turns out Virgil is smart, and funny, and just a little bit snarky, and a English major minoring in psychology. He’s got all kinds of nervous habits, chewing on his lip and tapping out rhythms known only to him and drawing on every available surface, and Logan often notices a tendril of ink wrapping around one of his fingers from under his gloves. 

They become fast friends, him and Virgil, bonding over a love for space and science and poetry. He starts coming to Mugnificent for coffee more often, and Roman teases Logan incessantly about it. 

“You’re finally making friends!” he pretends to sob, throwing his arms around him, and he has to shove Roman away, rolling his eyes. Virgil is stifling a laugh behind one gloved hand, and Logan mouths “Traitor,” at him, though he isn’t really mad at all.

They fall into patterns -- psych and history and statistics together, always seated side by side, sometimes accompanied by Roman or Patton or Remus or Janus or any one of their expanding circle of friends. The two of them buy each other coffee, edit essays, go out for junk food (that Logan complains about but secretly loves) with their friends. 

Virgil begs to paint Logan’s nails one night as they watch documentaries together in Patton and Virgil’s dorm room. His tongue sticks out of his mouth slightly as he focuses on the tiny white dots he’s adding, and Logan ends up loving the night sky that graces his fingers. In return, Logan styles Virgil’s long hair into a crown of braids. 

“Your Majesty,” he bows as he leads Virgil to the mirror. 

“If I’m royalty now, I demand a feast to celebrate,” Virgil grins, admiring his hair. “Sir Logan, this calls for pizza!”

“All the junk food you consume is going to kill you one day,” Logan sighs, but he’s already dialing their favorite pizza place.

They eat dinner seated on the floor, holding paper plates and drinking soda as they watch Cosmos. Patton returns to the dorm a few minutes later, accompanied by Janus and Roman both, and snags some of the pizza for himself – luckily, they’d thought to order extra, as soon Remus, Remy, and Emile all show up, too, crowding into the dorm room and around Logan’s laptop. The documentary is switched to Big Hero 6, Virgil showing off his hair and Logan his nails as the others admire them. Soon Virgil is breaking out his nail polish again, painting delicate puppies on Patton’s fingers, and Logan is teaching Roman how to do the same hairstyle on Emile’s curls. 

It’s a Saturday night, so they feel comfortable all crashing in Patton and Virgil’s room, squeezing far too many young adults into one small space. Emile giggles that it reminds them of sleepovers they went to when they were in elementary school, and Remus points out that they ought to play Truth or Dare with a manic grin. Virgil quickly puts a stop to that, however, distracting Remus with conspiracy theories and carving marshmallows to look like Lovecraftian monsters, and Logan wants to laugh because Virgil is very much a mom friend, despite his protests to the contrary. Still, as he sips hot cocoa with a marshmallow Cthulhu staring up at him from the mug, he has to admit it was a good idea. They all get into the fun, carving marshmallows with whatever cutlery Patton and Virgil have in their room, and eventually Monster Mallows will become a tradition for all of their friend group. 

When he falls asleep that night, lying on the floor in the blanket fort Patton and Roman had insisted on building, he dreams of rain and lightning, across dark skies that resemble Virgil’s eyes. 

–

Logan realizes Virgil is his best friend in the middle of winter, when he shows up at Mugnificent at the end of his shift, ordering two coffees and taking them as Logan gets ready to leave. “Sorry, Roman,” Virgil says, though he doesn’t look sorry at all as he hands Logan one of the drinks and reaches out to hold his other hand. “C’mon, L, we’ve got to hurry if we’re going to get there in time.”

“Where are we going?” Logan raises an eyebrow, throwing on his coat and waving goodbye to Roman (who is saying something dramatic about a grievous betrayal) as he sips at the coffee. It’s perfect, his order exactly. 

“Look!” Virgil grins as they leave the coffee shop, and it’s snowing, white flakes falling around them and coating the ground. Some of the cars nearby are already covered in it. “C’mon, we’ve got to get to the park.” 

“Wait, why?” he asks. “Virgil, this looks rather like the makings of a blizzard. We should probably go back to our dorms so we can prepare if we get snowed in.”

“I know it’s a snowstorm,” Virgil rolls his eyes, and his stormy eyes are bluer than Logan’s ever seen them, shining with excitement. “Now, let’s go!”

Logan should probably argue more, but he’s laughing as he gets pulled along, the two half-running towards the park. 

They slow down at the top of a hill already lightly coated with snow, and Virgil reaches into his bag to pull out a picnic blanket. “No,” Logan protests, but he’s cackling as Virgil yells “Snow picnic!” and spreads it over the snow. 

“This is going to turn into a blizzard,” he manages to say, stifling his giggles. “We are going to be buried alive because you wanted to have a picnic in a snowstorm.”

“Oh, shush,” Virgil grins, flopping down onto the blanket and digging into his bag again to retrieve two bagels wrapped in tinfoil. “Drink your coffee and watch the snow with me, Logan Sanders.”

The bagel he hands Logan has Crofters jam instead of cream cheese spread across it, still warm from toasting, and Logan could kiss Virgil if they weren’t very platonic…

Well, it feels like they are a whole lot more than friends, at this point. There’s something about their relationship that feels different from the ones Logan has with their other companions, be it Remus or Emile, Patton or Janus, Roman or Remy. 

Are they best friends?

He asks, and Virgil merely grins and says “I hope so.” 

It’s amazing, lying there as they watch the sky, munching on bagels and sipping at their coffee and pointing out oddly shaped clouds. Virgil is practically covered in snowflakes by the time they have to leave, the wind picking up too much to stay, and Logan is no better. Still, he thinks it was worth it, even when he gets a cold and has to spend the weekend curled up in blankets, sneezing and coughing as he works on his essay for his cosmology class. Virgil gets a cold, too, and they end up on the phone together as they work, Virgil blasting music on his end and Logan parroting his roommate’s consistent reminders to take medicine, and drink some water! 

Emile seems to think it’s cute, for some reason, and they tell Logan to say hi to Virgil for them, a smile playing on their lips that he’s too sick to interpret. 

–

Logan has a crush on a boy in their shared statistics class by March, the one who sits three rows in front of him and two seats to the right, who has green hair and a cheerful grin. Virgil listens patiently about it whenever Logan brings it up, and when they have to pair up for a final project, he pushes him towards his crush, joining Remus instead.

He finds out his crush already has a romantic partner in a strictly monogamous relationship when they’re nearly done with the project, and Virgil shows up to Logan’s dorm room with ice cream and his laptop that night, pulling aside Emile as he comes in and whispering something to him. Emile leaves shortly after, and the two of them are alone.

“What did you tell Emile?” Logan asks later, when they’re sitting on his bed and watching trashy teenage romcoms, because, according to Virgil, “This way, you won’t associate any good movies with this.” 

“Well, Patton invited him for a ‘sleepover,’” Virgil says, eating directly from the carton of chocolate ice cream, gaze shifting from the screen to Logan. “Did the moment he saw your text on the groupchat.”

Logan had texted that his crush has a partner when Roman had begun teasing him about it on said chat. Looking back, it may not have been the best of decisions, but all he wants to do right now is curl into the comforter and watch bad movies, while simultaneously eating unholy amounts of ice cream. 

“It’s not a big deal,” he protests, pulling the blankets closer around him. 

“Listen, L, you’re sad ‘cause the boy you like… well, you know. Anyways, you being sad is a big deal, at least to us.” Virgil isn’t wearing his normal clothes, only a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt (Logan knows he ran over in his nightwear, which makes him feel worse), so he can see the ink covering his hands, smudged in places.

“Why do you draw on yourself so much?” He leans over to look at the patterns of spirals winding their way up Virgil’s arms, tracing them with one finger. “That much ink can’t be good for your skin, pretty as it is, Vee.”

Virgil bats his hand away, blushing behind his curtains of dark hair, and Logan laughs. “It’s just a nervous habit, okay?” he exclaims, and Logan pokes his cheek, cooing. 

“Aw, lookit you,” he smiles, and even though Logan’s heart hurts from what happened with his crush, he doesn’t think he would trade anything for his friendship with Virgil Foley. “So cute.”

“I’m not cute,” Virgil grumbles, pressing play on the computer. “Watch the shitty movie and shush, nerd.”

He gets over the boy from statistics eventually, and gets an A on the project, which Roman insists they celebrate with breakfast at Logan’s favorite diner on campus. (Logan’s pretty sure Roman just feels guilty about teasing him about it, but he goes anyways, pulling his friend aside later to tell him it’s fine.)

–

They return from summer vacation changed. Janus, Patton, and Roman are dating now, for one thing, and it’s disgustingly sappy. Emile comes out as asexual and aromantic a few days after they get back, and Logan helps them hang flags in their dorm room when they arrive a week later. Remy has switched majors, from biology to culinary classes, and Remus tells them excitedly that he’s managed to start a rather popular horror comic online. (Logan reads it, and learns Remus is quite adept at art, writing, and scaring the crap out of him. He never looks at door knobs the same way again.) Virgil, meanwhile, has started wearing far less baggy clothes and more makeup – in other words, people around campus start realizing that Virgil is actually hot, and not just a relatively cute bundle of sweatshirts. 

Logan kind of feels weird about it. He knows how aesthetically pleasing Virgil is, of course – they’ve spent enough time together for him to have figured that out – but… well, Logan had realized while he was away how much he’d missed Virgil, even more so than his other friends. He tells himself it is because of how close they are, and ignores the ugly anger in his chest when people flirt with Virgil, or how his heart pounds and face flushes when they curl up to watch movies these days. 

As for him, well, he’s dyed his hair a dark blue, a color so dark it’s almost black. Roman marvels over it, asking how he managed to not damage his hair in the process, and Logan doesn’t feel like telling him that he had meant to do a brighter shade, but hadn’t realized how hard it would be to get proper color without bleaching his normal dark hair. He does end up telling Virgil later, though, when Remy and Patton drag them and the rest of their friends to a party.

For the record, Logan tended to avoid such events. He didn’t see the point, firstly – he’d never been a fan of crowds, especially not ones where everyone was drunk off their asses, and he generally had too much work to do to bother with parties. Secondly, he simply didn’t care enough to look nice for such a thing, or to go at all. Logan would much rather spend time with his friends if he had to be up in the middle of the night, whether haunting the 24/7 diner a few miles off campus or playing stupid games in the woods or making fun of Disney movies while throwing popcorn at the screen and shushing each other so they didn’t get noise complaints. 

But then there were Patton and Remy, social creatures who liked seeing other people and didn’t mind getting wasted to do so. Roman and Janus typically followed Patton wherever he went, so they were a given, and Remus had developed a raging crush on Remy by then, so he’d probably have tagged along even if Remy hadn’t grabbed his hand and said “You’ll come, right, Ree?” with a grin. 

Well, Remus was lost to them after that, and that left Emile, Logan, and Virgil alone.

Which would have been fine! Except then Virgil had got dragged in by Patton (a difficulty of being his roommate, according to Logan’s best friend, was that Patton was very, very persuasive when he wanted to be) and Virgil had begged Logan to come for “Introvert solidarity, L! Introvert solidarity!”

Then Emile had sighed, said something about being the only responsible one, and appointed themself designated driver. So Logan didn’t even have that excuse to pull himself and Virgil out of it early. 

He finds himself on a couch in someone’s house, sitting besides Virgil. Janus tells him that it is owned by someone who goes to their college but lives nearby, a summer home belonging to their parents or something. Janus says ze aren’t sure who the actual host is, and ze run off to go find Roman or Patton before Logan can ask why all of them are attending a party hosted by someone they don’t know.

Virgil has obviously already had something to drink, or he’s insanely sleep-deprived, as he has started playing with Logan’s hair. Logan’s willing to bet on the former (although knowing Virgil, he can’t be sure – he has an awful sleep schedule) especially since he’s never known the other to be so touchy, even when tired. 

“How’d you get it like this?” Virgil asks, running his fingers through Logan’s curls. He’s perched on top of the couch, and though he would normally be concerned that Virgil might fall, Logan is just glad he doesn’t have to bend over so his friend can examine his hair. 

He tells Virgil, and can’t help but smile as he laughs, perhaps a little more than the story warrants. They sit there in peace for a few minutes, Virgil humming along with any song he recognizes and Logan scanning the room for any of their friends. 

“Your hair is so pretty,” Virgil eventually says, and Logan is surprised he can hear him at all over the noise of the music and other people. He slides down from the couch to sit beside him, reaching up to poke Logan’s cheek. “You’re pretty. You know that, right? You’re real, real pretty.”

“Aw,” Logan grins, hoping the dim lights and Virgil’s addled brain will hide his red cheeks. “What is it you say? Oh, right; you think I’m warm.”

“No, dummy, I think you’re hot,” Virgil sighs. “Get it right.”

“Why, thank you.”

“‘Course. You’re my best friend, Logan Sanders.”

“Same,” he replies, dodging Virgil’s attempt to flick him as he scans the room. “Have you seen Remy or Remus around recently?”

“Oh, they’ve been making out in that closet over there,” Virgil says offhandedly, pointing, and Logan nearly chokes. “You didn’t know? They’re so obvious, Remy’s been whining about it to me for weeks. ‘Oh, Virgil, I’m doomed to be alone forever!’ ‘Oh, Virgil, Remus is so hot, and I’m going to whine about it to you for hours!’ ‘Oh, Virgil, I have a crush on a trash rat man and I won’t stop talking about it ever!’”

“Did Remy actually call Remus a ‘trash rat man’?” he snickers, turning to look at Virgil, who is wringing his hands in mock despair as he imitates Remy.

“No,” Virgil pouts. “Wish he had. Remus would love that.”

“He would,” Logan agrees, rolling his eyes fondly. “Hey, do you want to leave?”

“Why, Logan Perfect-Hair Sanders, are you asking me to ditch a party with you?” he laughs.

“That isn’t my middle name and you know it.” Logan shoots off a text to Emile, standing and turning to grab Virgil’s hand, pulling him upright. “But sure. Will you, Virgil Emo-Nightmare Foley, ditch this absurd party with me?”

“Logan, I thought you’d never ask,” Virgil smirks. “Let’s bounce!”

They get lucky – Logan hasn’t had anything to drink, and due to how large their group is, Virgil had had to drive over Patton, Janus, Roman, and himself earlier. Virgil hands him the keys to the car, and Logan drives them to the nearby McDonalds, where they order fries and milkshakes. “Let’s go somewhere high,” Virgil says when they return to the car, grinning, and Logan obliges, driving them to his favorite stargazing spot near campus, partway up a mountain in a parking lot for an old playground. 

Soon, he finds himself sitting on the hood of Virgil’s car, dipping his fries in a chocolate shake as the two of them stare up at the stars and the moon, pointing out constellations. “Look,” giggles Virgil, his head on Logan’s shoulder as he traces lines between stars. “It’s the glasses one!”

“There is no ‘glasses’ constellation, Virgil,” he points out, but the path his friend is etching into the sky does look rather like a pair of glasses. 

“Well, there is now,” replies the other. “It’s your constellation! You deserve one, y’know, ‘cause you’re pretty, and smart, and nice, and funny, and you’re just the best, Lo, okay?”

“How much did you have to drink, exactly?” Logan asks, raising an eyebrow, and his friend punches him in the arm, lightly. “Ow!”

“I’m telling the truth,” Virgil rolls his eyes, pulling the blankets they’d retrieved from the trunk closer around the two of them. “You deserve a constellation. You deserve the universe.”

“Well, now we have to find you a constellation, too,” he muses, ignoring the heat in his cheeks (he seems to be blushing quite a lot lately, talking to Virgil) as he searches the sky. It takes a few minutes, and Virgil is half-asleep on his shoulder by the time he makes his choice, but finally Logan says “I found it.”

“Well, lemme see,” Virgil mumbles, opening his eyes. 

He traces lines between a series of stars. “It’s a cloud,” he explains, “and a lightning bolt. Because you’re a thunderstorm, V.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?” He’s biting his lip, suddenly subdued, and Logan feels a surge of guilt, because no one should ever make Virgil look like that, anxious and hurt and scared all at once.

“No,” he answers, fiercely enough that Virgil jumps slightly. “You’re wild, and chaotic, and occasionally a bit destructive, but you also make people feel alive. You bring rain to help things live, you bring the sound of a storm and the beauty of lightning, you simultaneously wake me up and help me sleep. You are beautiful, and inspiring, and so amazingly you, and the best friend I could ever ask for.”

“...And I thought I was the English major,” Virgil says quietly, and his face is bright red. “You have no right to be better at words than me, Sanders.”

“Well, Foley, I’m the astrophysics major, and you’re the one who started making constellations, so turnabout’s fair play,” Logan replies, and Virgil lets out a laugh at that.

Later, when the fries and milkshakes are both gone, they get back into the car and drive back to their dorms. For Logan’s birthday that year, a month or so later, Virgil presents him with a painting of the glasses constellation. He’d commissioned Remus, he explains, staring at his feet, and Logan tells him he loves it. For Virgil’s birthday, he gets a similar art piece from Roman, of the stars making a storm, and Virgil pulls him into a tight hug.

For now, though, the two of them simply sit and gaze into space. 

–

Logan goes on a few dates with someone he meets at the coffee shop, named Andy. They become boyfriends. Virgil teases him about it whenever he brings it up, and eventually he stops talking about his partner to his best friend. The two of them start to pull apart, their friendship strained.

When Logan and Andy separate, Virgil is dating a girl he’s only met a few times, who shares Virgil’s English classes and wears colorful barrettes to hold back her curls.

He hadn’t even known Virgil liked her. 

–

College passes by quickly. They graduate, and Logan tumbles into a job at a rather prestigious observatory. He lives in a small apartment in the city nearby, buys coffee from the Starbucks across the street every morning, settles into a routine.

Gradually, they all start to fall out of touch. It sucks, but things have been off between Virgil and him ever since Logan had dated Andy Michaels, and at the moment Logan sees his ex-boyfriend more than his ex-best friend. Their relationship had ended amicably, but still – he misses Virgil Foley, more than he’d ever like to admit. 

A year or so later, Logan receives the invitation to Remy and Remus’ wedding. 

It is in the fall, and Logan isn’t surprised in the least that they plan to have it in a forest, if only because he knows that the odds of Remus wanting the guests to jump into leap piles with him are absurdly high. At least they’re at an actual wedding site, so they can be inside if needed – Logan half expected, when he found out they’d gotten engaged, for them to drag a bunch of guests to a Starbucks for the event. 

What does surprise Logan is the fact that Remus has apparently sent it early, because Logan is going to be one of the wedding party attendants. 

He calls Remus and Remy that night, certain they’ve mixed up things, but Remy simply laughs. “Logan, you’re still one of our best friends,” he says. “Come on, please?”

“Besides,” Remus adds, “Virge will be one too, and Patton and Roman and Jan and Emile! You can’t break up the team!”

He ends up agreeing, and no matter how much Remy teases him about it later, it was not just to see Virgil again. 

The wedding rolls around. Logan has managed to avoid speaking to Virgil for more than a friendly greeting and a bit of small talk through all the preparations the two of them had had to attend, but the they both arrive early on the day of, and Logan doesn’t know anybody else, and, well, he does miss Virgil. 

“Hey,” he says. Virgil is nearly as tall as him in the heels he’s wearing (Logan had managed to opt out of them, convincing Remus to let him wear flats with his dress), and his green dress offsets his stormy eyes perfectly. Logan doesn’t think he looks nearly as good in the color, but he’d decided not to argue with Remy’s puppy-dog eyes. Besides, he much prefers the dress to the suits Emile and Patton had opted for. 

“Hi, Logan,” Virgil replies. The tension in the air is palpable, and Logan hates it. “How’ve you been lately?”

“I’m good,” he answers. 

“Oh, good,” nods Virgil. He’s gnawing at his lip again, and Logan can see the split in it even through the lipstick. “Me too.”

“I miss you,” Logan says suddenly, because he does. “You were my best friend, and I hate not being close, because you are one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

“...I miss you too.” He smooths his dress, looking out the window at the trees, and then laughs. “I’m surprised they didn’t have their wedding in a Starbucks, honestly.”

Logan can’t help but chuckle at that, especially when he spots Remy breezing past them, a coffee cup in hand and makeup only half-done, frantically trying to catch his little brothers and sister, whom he and Remus had appointed flower children. “I thought the same thing,” he admits. 

It’s easy for the two of them to talk, after that, sharing jokes and telling stories and talking about their new lives. Logan feels oddly happy when he learns Virgil is single, and when he mentions how he’s looking for a roommate and Virgil remarks that he is too, it feels as natural as breathing to ask where he’s currently living. Finding out they live in the same city makes Logan feel strangely elated. 

“Help!” Remus exclaims, skidding to a stop in front of them, collapsing into Virgil’s arms and only barely being caught. “I’ve lost my husband-to-be!” 

“Alright, please calm down,” Logan says, exchanging exasperated looks with Virgil, who pulls Remus back to his feet. “Have you actually lost Remy, or are you just being overly dramatic?”

“He has been stolen from me,” Remus whines. “We were kissing, and then he was dragged away by my evil brother!”

“By any chance, was he dragged away to prepare for your wedding? The event we’re attending, so you two can get married? The one that most guests are expected to arrive for in fifteen minutes?” Virgil crosses his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed. 

Remus’ eyes widen. “Fifteen minutes?” he asks, checking Logan’s watch, and groans. “Oh, drumsticks. Drumsticks torn right off a chicken. Bloody chicken legs everywhere.”

He darts off, and Logan and Virgil sigh simultaneously.

“We should go help, shouldn’t we?” Virgil asks, and Logan nods reluctantly. “Well, it was great to talk to you.”

“It was pleasant to speak with you, as well,” he agrees. 

As he turns to go find Patton, Virgil grabs his arm. “Hey, L, save me a dance, okay?”

They do indeed dance together that night, after they watch Remy and Remus get married among the colorful leaves, and talk, and laugh, and by the end of the wedding they are good friends again.

Virgil and Logan move in together by the end of November. 

–

They become surprisingly domestic, the two of them, moving into their large apartment that is close to both Logan’s job at the observatory and Virgil’s work at a publishing company. He’s not surprised Virgil has become an editor (he was always the best at it, when they exchanged essays to review), but he is rather impressed when he notes some of the books in Virgil’s room have his full name on the cover. “I write poetry, mostly,” he explains when Logan asks. “It’s… I used to use it like therapy, I guess, and I got some of it published. I’m not famous or anything.”

“That’s amazing,” Logan says sincerely. 

The poetry becomes important, later, but then, it is simply something for Logan to admire, another flash of beautiful lightning in Virgil’s storm.

Saturdays become movie nights, and they order junk food and make popcorn and watch documentaries or horror movies or cartoons together. Occasionally, some of their friends will join them, and every so often, all eight of them cram into Logan and Virgil’s living room. Despite his love for the others, however, Logan’s favorite nights are usually the ones when the two of them are alone, when they curl up together on the couch and make fun of trashy films or contribute their own knowledge to documentaries or sing along quietly to Disney. It is peaceful and lovely and utterly perfect.

Logan doesn’t mean to fall in love with Virgil. It sneaks up on him, mornings of coffee for him and tea for Virgil and memes shared over breakfast, afternoons texting each other with reminders to get groceries and news from the office, nights of cooking together and dancing to the radio. 

One day, when both of them have work off, Virgil pulls him out of bed, waits impatiently while Logan gets dressed, and drags him outside into a storm. They walk through the park together, enjoying the rain on their skin, both of them jumping into puddles and belting the title number of Singing in the Rain and getting utterly soaked. 

They return home for cocoa, each taking a warm shower and then sitting together on the couch to watch old movies with small white krakens bobbing in their cups. It is then, with Virgil curled up against him, wet hair soaking Logan’s neck and the smell of hot chocolate in the air, that Logan realizes he loves a thunderstorm in human form. 

His best friend.

Oh, god, Logan is in love with his best friend. And also his roommate. And also his favorite person in the whole of the universe.

(He’s pretty sure that if Virgil could hear his thoughts, and if, y’know, Virgil wasn’t the person in question, he’d roll his eyes and say, “Oh my god, they were roommates.” The idea nearly makes him laugh.) 

Logan tries to get over his crush (and there’s no other word for it, as juvenile as it sounds). He really does. But it’s so hard, now that he knows it exists, especially when he has to see Virgil every single day. And he can’t just cut himself off, or leave their apartment, because that might ruin their friendship, and that’s the whole reason he’s trying to escape his feelings, because he loves being Virgil’s friend more than anything. 

So he exists in this inbetween state, thrashing in the eyewall of a storm, so close to safety and danger simultaneously, trapped in chaos and uncertainty. 

Logan isn’t quite sure whether he really wants to return to the eye, blissful quiet and the peace of oblivion, or if he can at all. But he thinks entering the storm itself, the danger of telling Virgil how he feels, the potential for a life with him, is equally impossible. 

Eventually he decides that it is best to just ignore his rebellious feelings. It works, sort of – Virgil doesn’t seem to notice anything different, and Logan gets to keep his best friend. Still, every moment together is tinged with a sort of bittersweet sadness, the dancing in the kitchen and cuddling on the couch and meals together a harsh reminder that they are just friends.

He’s not sure exactly how his other friends figure it out, but they do, judging from how Remy and Janus tell him exasperatedly that he really ought to say something to Virgil, how Patton and Roman tell him how cute they would be together, how Remus does his best to shove Logan towards Virgil at any opportunity, how Emile tells him pointedly that repressing his feelings isn’t exactly healthy. Logan does decide that he’ll confess… eventually. 

The problem with eventually, however, is how ambiguous it is. The others have realized as much, evidently, but they don’t force Logan to say something, or tell Virgil themselves, and he appreciates that.

It is a Saturday when eventually finally comes, a peaceful movie night interrupted by a phone call with Roman’s name flashing on the screen. He holds up a finger over his lips as he accepts the call, grimacing apologetically to Virgil as he steps into his own room. “What do you want?” he asks exasperatedly when he picks it up, and winces as the other line fills with noise. 

“Logan, have you read Virgil’s latest book?” Roman practically screams, and in the background Logan can hear Patton squealing with excitement as Janus shushes them both. 

He frowns, closing the door to his bedroom. “I wasn’t aware he’d been working on one.” Normally, Logan knows whenever Virgil is working on another collection of his poetry – he’s often the first person Virgil hands it to for editing. 

“Get on your computer this instant, Pocket Protector,” says Roman, and Logan can hear his grin.

A quick search confirms it; a new book of poetry, just released by Virgil Foley. The revelation is almost painful (does Virgil not trust him anymore? Not like him?) until Janus’ voice comes over the line, hir voice sarcastic and concerned altogether.

“Way to go, love, he’s definitely not overthinking this,” ze sigh. “Logan, listen to me. I need you to go look at some of the reviews for the book, okay? Actually, no, if you can find a sample online, go read that.”

He’s operating in a haze, a robot in human flesh, and what do robots do but obey orders?

Logan barely understands what he’s reading at first, lines of poetry in the sample flashing past him. He checks the reviews, words of praise and admiration flowing through his mind, and it takes a second before he understands any of it. 

Clicking back to the online sample, he starts to recognize the story being told. It is a tale of late nights and hot drinks in the morning, of pining and fear of destroying a friendship older than love.

It is Logan’s story, told through another’s words, a voice speaking of a scholar of the stars, of glasses and storms, of hugs and hand-holding and a cute barista, a boy in psych class, a friendship repaired at another’s wedding, of admiration and hope and love. A love for someone seen not as a storm, but as stars, as the universe in human flesh. 

Virgil is in love.

Virgil is in love with Logan. 

“I’ll call you back,” he hears himself say, and drops his phone on his bed in his haste to get back to the living room. 

“Logan?” Virgil’s voice pierce the haze of his thoughts, his eyes 

(a storm, wild beauty) 

shining with concern, and he sits up from where he’s lying on the couch. “You okay? What happened?”

There are many things he wants to say, questions and explanations and promises, but in the end, all he says is “Can I kiss you?”

“What?” He doesn’t expect Virgil to look quite so flustered, but then again, Logan did just storm into the room, looking desperate and probably a tad deranged, and ask to kiss his best friend. 

“Roman told me about the new book,” Logan says first, and Virgil’s eyes widen even further, and he can sense the incoming apology, but he isn’t done, not yet. He begins to crack his knuckles, a habit he’d thought he’d finally lost, full to the brim with nervous energy. “I’ve read some of it, and as far as I can tell, you are romantically attracted to me. Which is good, because I also harbor such feelings for you, and have for about a year now. So. Can I kiss you?”

“Isn’t it ‘May I kiss you’?” Virgil grins, playing off his feelings with humor, as always. Logan opens his mouth to apologize as his world comes crashing down, because oh, he’s messed up, oh no, but then his best friend’s expression softens, and he whispers “Of course, Logan Sanders.”

“Thank you, Virgil Foley,” he says, and abandons the eyewall for the storm. 

They don’t watch any more movies that night. The two of them kiss, and talk, and kiss some more, and Virgil grabs his author’s edition of the new book from his room, and they read it together on the couch. 

The next morning, they sit with their coffee and tea and talk some more, about labels and boundaries and dreams. Their friends come over for movies the next Saturday, and Virgil and Logan hold hands as they tell them they are dating. 

(Roman choking on the popcorn in his excitement almost makes up for the money Logan spots being exchanged between Emile, Remus, and Patton.)

Eventually, Virgil’s latest book will gain fame, and they will end up with quite a bit of money between the two of them, especially after Logan gets a promotion. Eventually, they will move to a larger house, one a bit outside the city, one where they will have two cats and a dog and a son named Thomas. Eventually, they will get married in the spring, and when it starts to rain as they say their vows, the two of them just laugh. 

But that is eventually. In the now, Logan Sanders is in love. In the now, Virgil Foley is in love. 

They are glasses and hoodies, poetry written and spoken, dancing in the kitchen and cuddles on the couch. 

They are thunderstorms, and they are stars.

[erin-bo-berin]

Home Run

MASTERLIST

Happy Saturday! I’m back with a THIRD new fic in a row. I just couldn’t wait to post this one either. Requested by @andiebeaword​, this fic was obviously inspired by the baseball scenes from 8x06. This was just so much fun to write and I liked being able to switch it up some and have it be like a huge BAU annual baseball game with past and current agents. It was interesting to be able to write about all these characters together, some of them never even being around at the same time on the show. Also, I had to use this gif cause Spencer’s huge smile in this scene will never fail to make me happy. Sit back, relax and enjoy a nice BAU ballgame fluff piece. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 2,634

It was the arrival of the annual baseball game that started it all.

Every year, the BAU held what was the most well known event outside the office; the baseball game was held on the first weekend in June, infamous for the most competitive game between all different members of the BAU, past and present.

Past members of the team came back every year to play. It was a nice, fun way to see everyone again.

This year was going to be a little...different.

“Guys, come on! You know why I never take part in this!” Spencer Reid whined, “I had to be exempt from any physical test just to get in the FBI!”

You chuckled at your friend and coworker’s expense. Standing next to you was Derek Morgan, another of your coworkers. Beside the two of you was a baseball cannon, loaded with balls for Spencer’s practice.

“Reid, you know Kevin Lynch can’t make the game this year due to a family commitment. We’re short one player,” Derek hollered back.

“I don’t even know how to play baseball!”

“Which is precisely why we’re here,” you retorted, “All you do is swing, hit the ball and run. It’s easy!”

“Easy for you,” he grumbled, lifting his bat again, “Okay, let’s try it again.”

“Don’t think, just feel it,” Morgan called.

“Feel it, feel it,” Spencer nodded.

The ball went shooting from the apparatus and you saw Spencer trying to follow it with his eyes. You crossed your fingers, hoping he’d hit it.

He swung.

And he missed. Again.

“Reid, that’s not feeling it!” 

“I’m feeling like an idiot!” Spencer shouted back, exasperated.

“Come on pretty thang, go show your pretty boy how it’s done,” Morgan nodded to the home plate.

You cut him a warning glance, your cheeks reddening. You’d had a tiny crush on Spencer since the first day you met him. 

Derek’s nickname for Spencer was pretty boy. When you’d joined the team, you became pretty thang. It was often his joke that Spencer was your pretty boy, which embarrassed you to no end. He definitely rooted for you two as a couple.

Despite all the relentless teasing, Spencer remained mercifully oblivious. You’d rather not deal with that embarrassment of your crush being exposed. Although if it was up to Derek Morgan, he’d shouted it from the rooftops for you ages ago.

“Kid, come here. Watch how she bats, okay?”

Derek put his arm around Spencer’s shoulders as you took your place behind the home plate, bat raised and ready. Morgan loaded another ball and it flew towards you.

A crack of the bat sounded as you hit it high in the air, watching it soar to the further end of the field.

“All you gotta do is swing your hips and hit it!” you called.

“If I had hips like that, I would,” Spencer retorted.

You knew Spencer didn’t mean anything by the remark, but you still felt a tad embarrassed at his focus on your body.

“Grab a mitt big boy, we’re practicing your catching,” Morgan called, running to grab one for you. 

“Can’t wait,” Spencer mumbled sarcastically.

You chuckled, taking the mitt from Morgan and handing him the baseball bat.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear that remark of his about those sexy curves,” he teased you as he took your place batting.

“What’s that? You’re gonna take it easy on us?” you chuckled, purposely ignoring his remark.

Derek was a beast at batting and if he was going to bring his A game, Spencer was surely going to be in for it during his first outfield lesson.

“Oh never,” Morgan laughed.

“Guys you know all my unpleasant childhood sports memories happened like this,” Spencer protested.

“Okay, okay,” Morgan relented, “I’ll take it easy on you.”

“Thank you,” he huffed.

“Spence, since Kevin was right field, you’re going to be in the right field,” you said.

“Which is where exactly?” he asked, wincing.

You chuckled.

“Well, you know which way is right, correct?”

He nodded, pointing to the right.

“Then that’s where you’re heading,” you grinned, pushing him gently in that direction.

“Isn’t the right fielder where a team can hide their worst player without destroying their defense?” Spencer called, walking backwards to his position.

“You know that yet you can’t play baseball?” you asked, mystified.

“I know information about a lot of things I don’t do,” he replied.

“Good point,” you mumbled.

“Watch out pretty boy,” Morgan called, “Y/N’s a beast at playing center field.”

“As long as I have to play as little as possible, I’m fine!”

The ball shooter let loose another ball and Morgan hit it high in the air. Your eyes never left the ball as you sprinted to catch it, the ball falling perfectly in your glove. If it had been a real game, Morgan would’ve been out.

He whistled across the field.

“Now that’s impressive.”

You peered over at Spencer, who was looking at you, mouth agape.

“What?” you flushed.

“I just didn’t expect you to be able to do that.”

“I played a lot of baseball when I was younger,” you explained.

“How do you expect me to play like that?” Spencer asked, still stunned.

“We’re not expecting you to be a professional, Reid,” Morgan said, approaching him, “Just do your best and have fun. It’s a game for fun anyway.”

“Fun for you guys,” he grumbled.

“Okay, I’m gonna try to go easier on you, to give a little practice on fetching the ball,” Derek said, heading back to home plate.

“I’m not a Golden Retriever!” Spencer said.

You chuckled.

Derek purposely held back, sending the ball in the middle of your area and Spencer’s. He ran for it at the same time you did as you noticed it was close to falling towards the field’s fence.

You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, only the ball. That was how you ended up running right into Spencer’s chest, falling backwards into the ground. You lost track of the ball, but noticed it fall to the ground a few feet away from you.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!”

He rushed to help you up, but you waved him away, apologizing.

“So sorry about that,” you chuckled, “I should’ve been paying more attention to where I was going.”

Like a gentleman, he offered a hand to help you up, which you ended up taking, trying to ignore the tingling on your skin that holding his hand produced.

“No, I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I’m not that good at this sort of thing. In fact, I suck.”

“Hey, no need to be so hard on yourself,” you smiled, “You’re doing just fine.”

“Unless you two are over there discussing how amazing I am, I’d love for you two to get back to your positions!” Morgan shouted.

“Nah, we were just discussing how we think you’d look in a toupee,” Spencer remarked, making you snort.

Your phone beeped and you reached in the back pocket of your shorts and pulled it out, seeing a text message from team member and technical analyst Penelope Garcia.

“Guys, we’ve got a case,” you announced to the two men.

“Hallelujah.”

Spencer practically sprinted off the baseball field making you and Derek laugh heartily.

“Just you wait, pretty boy!” Derek called out to him, “I’m sure you’ll surprise everyone this weekend!”

•

Saturday was a beautiful day. 

The skies were such a clear blue, it almost looked artificial. The sun shone brightly without a cloud in the sky and the temperature was pleasant, without being too hot. Basically, it was the perfect day for a baseball game. 

The game day also fell on a great day. 

The team had just wrapped up the case that you and them had been called in on earlier in the week. It would be nice to have a relaxing Saturday afternoon with some baseball, good friends and plain ‘ol fun.

“Spencer!”

You waved him over, when you saw him.

“Hey,” he grinned, catching the mitt you threw him.

“We’re first in the field,” you explained, “You ready to play some ball?”

“Stoked,” he deadpanned.

“Oh come on, it won’t be that bad,” you chuckled, reaching up to place his baseball hat on his head.

“You’ll do great,” you assured him, patting his chest as you headed off towards your spot in center field.

Your team was made up of your fellow BAU team members including: Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alvez, Penelope, Derek, Spencer and of course, yourself.

On the opposing team were friends and fellow coworkers: Matt Simmons, Tara Lewis, Alex Blake, Ashley Seaver, Stephen Walker, Kate Callahan, Jordan Todd, Mateo Cruz and Grant Anderson. 

Last year, they had won. This year, you and your team were ready to take back the reigning title.

The crowd was filled with friends and family, here to support their loved ones.

There was Beth, Hotch’s girlfriend and Jack, Hotch’s teenaged son. Rossi’s wife Krystall, his step daughter Portia, daughter Joy—and her husband and son Kai—were also in attendance. Savannah and Hank were there too, Morgan’s wife and three year old son, cheering their favorite player on. 

JJ’s husband Will and their two boys, Henry and Michael were in the stands as usual; they never missed this yearly game. All of Matt Simmons’ small tribe were also present and accounted for; wife Kristy and their two sons Jake and David, twin girls Chloe and Lily and their newly one year old final child, Rose Mary. Even Emily’s boyfriend Andrew Mendoza had shown up to cheer on his favorite girl.

Alex Blake’s husband James had come, taking a weekend off of his teaching duties so he could travel to D.C. for the game. Stephen Walker’s wife Monica sat with their two teenagers, a son and a daughter, already whooping and cheering for his team. Kate Callahan’s little family was there too; it was nice to see them since you hadn’t seen them in a while. Her husband Chris was seated with their biological niece turned adopted daughter Meg—who was now 18 and so much older than the last time you’d seen her—and their youngest daughter, now five.

Rounding out the group of loved ones was Anderson’s wife, her belly swollen with pregnancy. 

If that sounded like a huge turnout, that didn’t even count the other members of the BAU and other departments of the FBI. The bleachers were absolutely packed. The game really was that big of a deal.

The game started out rather slow, which was pretty unusual for a game between both teams. With two incredibly talented teams, usually someone had scored by now, but in hindsight it also meant the defense of each team was incredibly good as well.

By the third inning, both Morgan and Hotch had hit two homeruns. You’d had a decent hit, but ended up striking out before you could reach third base.

In another inning, the opposite team had tied up. 

Poor Spencer up to this point had struck out every time he was at the bat. You could tell he was incredibly embarrassed, but you kept encouraging him.

“Don’t let it get you down, Spence,” you smiled, after he’d struck out again, “You’re gonna hit it when they least expect it and knock them off their feet.”

He offered an appreciative half smile and you found yourself silently cheering him on throughout the entire game.

Surprisingly, his right fielding skills were pretty great. He had caught on quickly and was able to fetch the balls and throw them to any nearby basemen. He had actually struck out Kate, preventing her from almost scoring another point to take the lead.

“Woo! Way to go, Spence!” you hooted, clapping as best as you could with your mitt.

You saw his face flush and you knew it wasn’t all from the heat.

By mid game, the sun had started beating down on all of the attendees causing lots of red faces, sweaty shirts and bottles of water to be consumed. You were hot and sweaty like no other, but you were having the best time.

The fifth inning brought your team a three point lead which you’d contributed one of those points to and you were rather proud. You high fived all your teammates as you ran across home plate and came to the end of the line where Spencer was. He picked you up and spun you around in his excitement.

“Is it my imagination or is someone actually having fun?” you grinned.

“I’m definitely having fun.”

-

The last inning was the most tense. 

It was tied 5 to 5 and Spencer was up to bat next. If he struck out, the opposing team had one last chance to come out ahead and win the game.

Spencer was a wreck, to put it lightly. He’d already struck out once and Morgan ended up calling a time out. 

Spencer had been pacing and gesticulating wildly as Morgan talked to him, finally putting his hands on Spencer’s shoulders to calm him.

Whatever Morgan said to him, seemed to work. 

You watched from the sidelines as he calmly walked back to the home plate. 

Stephen was the one pitching this inning and he had a pretty good throw. But you believed in Spencer.

“Come on Spencer! You can do it!” you hollered.

You watched his posture change from nervousness to more confident. There had definitely been some sort of change in him.

The ball left Stephen’s hand and went flying Spencer’s way. You found yourself holding your breath and you actually flinched at the sudden crack of the bat hitting the ball.

Spencer seemed stunned for a moment as the ball soared towards the outfield, high above everyone’s heads.

“Run, run!” you and the rest of the team yelled to him, snapping him out of his daze.

Garcia was on second base and Rossi was on third. They went running as the other team scrambled to catch the ball in time. 

Rossi crossed the home plate, causing loud hoots and cheers from the audience that continued on as Penelope made it home right behind him.

Spencer hit first base and second by the time Matt had retrieved the ball. You noticed Spencer pick up speed and whiz past third base, trying to make it in time before the ball reached the pitcher again.

The cheers grew louder as loved ones shouted their encouragement to Spencer in hopes he made it home.

He slid home moments before the ball met Stephen’s glove bringing the game to an end in a 5-8 win.

The bleachers erupted in screams, as did you and the rest of your team. 

Morgan practically tackled Spencer in a hug, Spencer’s grin so big it rivaled the brightness of the afternoon sun. 

You were right behind Morgan to greet Spencer. Morgan had just let him go as you ran up to him.

“Spence, that was awesome!” you cried. 

In your excitement you grabbed Spencer’s face and kissed him hard, not even thinking of what you were doing until after you’d already pulled away.

He stood frozen and stunned, a smile on his face and you grinned, realizing you didn’t regret it one bit.

Everyone else had been too busy to see it, you assumed, so before the rest of the team swarmed him you called to him.

“You deserved that!”

Just then, the other six members reached him, swallowing him up in their excitement. His smile never left his face and his eyes flicked to you numerous times, an almost shyness to him.

You had assumed no one had seen the kiss until you overheard Morgan’s comment to Spencer.

“Way to go pretty boy! You didn’t just get one home run today, you got two!”

TAG LIST: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @fuckthealarm​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @tinyminy88​ @sundippedprincess​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @multifandommandy​ @teamkiall​ @redbullchick​ @ifeelloved​ @one-sweet-gubler​ @nanocoool​ @delightfullyspeedyearthquake​ @unsteadyimagines​ @ughitsbaby​ @inkwiet​ @pennythetechgoddess​ @capt-engr-ssa​ @sixx-sic-sixx​ @spencersdolore​ @reidsstudies​ @disney-dreams-world​ @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore​ @andiebeaword​ @cupcake525​ @be-the-bravest​ @gretaamyk​ @likelovers @hopebaker​ @prisonreid​ @httpnxtt​ @daviddoughboy​ @pastathighs​ @marvels-gurl​ @blushingspencer​ @pretty-boy-gubler​ @victorzsaszmydaddy​ @inlovewithamess​ @im-inlovewith-mycar​

[briyourmotherdown]

Give It All For You, Part 1 (Brian May x Fem!reader)

Word Count: 10.45k 

Warnings: Strong language (I’m British, it’s to be expected), slight innuendos???, possible historical inaccuracy, ANGST. 

Description: You have loved Brian May since the first time you met him. Trouble is, he’s nearly impossible to tie down, and you’ve become cemented in the role of the best friend. 

A/N: Okay so I’ve been working on this little mini-series for months. Literally too long. It’s still not even done, BUT I wanted to get the first part out at leAST. Uni and life have made finding creative inspiration a major struggle as of late. I think there will probably be around 3 parts to this?? I’m not quite sure yet, it could be a couple more if I find the motivation. BUT ANYWAY I really hope you enjoy it even though it’s angsty and I can’t write ajdgsdbskjbkdhgs. 

Spring, 1977

 “C’mon,” you slur,  your red dress shimmering in the dim lights of the local pub, “dance with me.”

  The bass is heavy in your chest and you feel alcohol coursing through your veins, but you’re only intoxicated by the man in front of you. His eyes glimmer like stars, hooded, sizing you up before shaking his head with a laugh.

  “You’re drunk.”

 “So are you.” you push yourself further into him in an attempt to push him onto the dancefloor, but more of a reason for you to get closer to him, to feel him.

  “But you’re plastered.”

 You roll your eyes, “Isn’t that the whole point?”

 He rolls his eyes right back, wrapping his arm around your waist to steady you, “Fine, one dance.”

  His hazel eyes are hooded, focussed solely on you, and you bask in his gaze. His hands on your body send electric shocks over your skin, and you tell yourself over and over that he doesn’t feel the same; he is only your good friend. That’s all you will ever be to him.

 “Is that how you ask a lady to dance?” you tease, cocking a brow.

 “You asked me!” Brian laughs, amused, “Alright, m’lady, may I have this dance?”

 He holds his hand out to you, dipping his head like a gentleman, and you take a moment to take a mental snapshot before accepting his hand, tugging him into the centre of the pub to dance.

  So you both danced, and for that night, just for that night with his hands on your hips, you could almost pretend that he was yours. And as he stared into your eyes, you let yourself fall into that false sense of security of imagined love.

   But let’s start from the beginning, from the moment you met on a cold winter’s night in 1972...

  “Christ, it’s cold as a witch’s tit in here,”

  Your best friend, Freddie, shivers as he hops up and down to warm himself up, scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and jaw,

  “Why did you want to open up the stall today, of all days? Even that old git Brutus has closed up shop.”

  You roll your eyes at his dramatics, shuffling the secondhand clothes on their hangers, “I need the money, that’s why. I’m about to be homeless if I can’t pay my rent.”

  Freddie hums, kicking a stray pebble on the floor, “You know, my friend has a spare room in his flat he’s trying to fill. He needs some extra money too. I’m sure he’d offer you the room for cheap.”

  “Which friend?”

  “His name is Brian, Brian May.”

  “Ah,” you wave your hand in recognition, remembering his name being brought up a few times, “the guitarist one, yeah?”

  “That’d be the one! I think you’d like him, actually-”

  “Like who?” your other friend and coworker, this one much more blonde, chimes in as he strides into the small stall, very much late. Roger.

  “Brian.” Freddie answers.

 “Oh yeah, she’d definitely like him.”

  You shoot them both a look, “And what makes you say that?”

  Roger holds up a fringed kimono up to himself in the mirror, “He’s quiet, reads a lot, likes the stars; basically a total nerd. You’d love him.”

  “And he always wears matching socks. It’s bizarre, he literally has a thing about matching socks.” Freddie adds.

  You chuckle, “And when will I get to meet this nerd?”

 “Well, tonight. We have a gig.”

 “Hm,” you pretend to think, “I’ll have to clear a few things from my schedule…”

  Roger nudges you with his shoulder, knocking you slightly off balance,

 “Alright, alright! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Later that evening you meet your friends at the pub where they're playing for the night. It’s a dingy dive that you never would usually go, but you’d do anything to support your friends on their journey to success.

  You’re dressed up all pretty in your flares and platforms, leaning up against the bar as you wait for Queen’s set to begin. Though the weather outside is freezing, the inside of a pub is always hot, air thick with the scent of ale and sweat, but the moment Queen steps on stage, it’s easy to forget your surroundings. You’d heard Freddie sing, and you’d certainly heard Roger crash about on his drums, but you’d never seen them like this.

  They were magnetic. You were all absorbed. Freddie’s outfit caught the light each time he flounced across the stage, but his voice was what captured everyones attention. He was full of passion and power; he owned the audience, he could control everyone with one simple snap of his fingers.

  Roger was his usual self, exuding sex-appeal and confidence. Girls fawned over his long blonde locks and plushy lips. The thing about Roger was that he was the total package of beauty and intelligence, that is if you could tie him down.

  You’d never met the bassist, John, you think his name was, but he managed to capture your attention in the most unsuspecting way. He was all shyness and modesty, but not radiating an ounce of hesitancy. You can tell, even at first glance, that he would be the perfect fit for Queen. He would bring balance.

 That leaves one final member, the oh-so nerdy space loving boy who Freddie and Roger believe you would adore. But he doesn’t look so nerdy when you see him. He’s pure mystery, almost as though he’s surrounded by a navy blue mist, an aura- or something ethereal. He’s breathtaking, is all you can think. Long legs adorned in velvet, dark curls fall in front of his eyes as he looks down at his guitar. He’s focussed, bottom lip jutting out in concentration, but he takes a moment to glance up. That’s when you know you’re done for. He scans the pub, small enough to make out everyone’s face, and his eyes land on yours. It’s fleeting, but you can swear they linger. Maybe that’s just what you want to tell yourself. Suddenly you want to feel his eyes on you all the time. You want to be in his daydreams, in his thoughts, you want to be his muse.

  You float through the rest of their set, eyes glued to Brian as he plays expertly. You sway to each song, ignoring your surroundings and focussing solely on the music, and when it’s over, you cheer as loudly as you can.

  “I want to have your children, Roger!” you scream, bursting into a fit of giggles as the blonde scans over the room to see the source of the scream, and upon seeing you, chucks up his middle finger with a laugh.

  You make your way to the small stage, well, it’s more of a two feet high platform, and open your arms up widely to Freddie.

  “You,” you tackle him into a hug, “were fucking incredible! You’ve been hiding this side of yourself from me for how long?”

  He blushes, returning to the Freddie you know, “You must have brought it out of me, love,” he turns to the rest of the band, “Y/N, this is John Deacon, isn’t he lovely?”

 Freddie gestures to the bassist as he smiles shyly, offering you a wave and a small, “Hello.”

  “You were amazing out there, seriously!” you compliment him, and he blushes, though his smile widens.

  “Now, darling, this is Brian May!”

  Upon hearing his name, Brian looks up from where he is putting away his guitar, standing up straight and brushing his hands off against his trousers.

  “Brian, this is Y/N, she hangs around Roger and I sometimes.” Freddie shoots you a playful wink as you roll your eyes.

  “Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” you reach a hand out to shake, which you so usually wouldn’t do, and it sends embarrassment right through you. But to your luck, he takes his hand in yours with no hesitation.

  “Likewise,” he smiles, still shaking your hand, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Oh God.

  “All good things I hope?” you realise you’re still holding his hand and let go, letting your hand sit awkwardly at your side.

  Jesus, you’re so nervous.

  “Mostly.” He winks, and it sends you reeling. His eyes are dangerous, and they travel up and down your figure in a way that sets you alight.

  It goes quiet as you stare at each other, Freddie glancing between you two with his eyebrows raised. Though he says nothing about it. Instead, he claps his hands,

  “I don’t know about anyone else, but I need a drink!”

  1977

  The next morning, you suffer through your pounding headache, wanting to just wallow in your loneliness.  

  Of course, Brian went home with someone else last night, sneaking away through the back door to avoid flashing cameras and prying eyes, leaving you to call yourself a taxi back home, where you cried for an hour before passing out.

  It’s not the first time he’s done this, but it still makes you feel pathetic every time.

  There’s a knock on your door, and you heave yourself out of bed despite the spinning in your head and the nausea churning in your stomach. Whoever is at the door will just have to deal with your dishevelled appearance.

  “Y/N? Jesus, you look like hell.”

  Alas, the infamous Roger Taylor stands on your doorstep, mouth agape at your messy hair and leftover smudged makeup.

  “I’ll slam this fucking door in your face, Taylor.”

  “Hostile,” he laughs, hands up in mock surrender, “I’ve just come to pick you up for lunch, or have you forgotten?”

  Feeling like a total ass, you smack your hand to your forehead, “Shit, Rog, I’m so sorry. Come in.”

  He follows you into your flat, eyes scanning over the slight mess. He turns to you, concerned; you’re not usually one to let your flat get so messy.

 “We don’t have to go, Y/N, we can reschedule, it’s not a problem.”

 You scrunch up your face, searching the kitchen for a glass of water and ibuprofen,

 “No, no, I want to go, you’ll just have to bear with me.”

 “Long night?” He teases, leaning his elbows on the kitchen counter to stare at you.

  Shooting him a glare, you slide passed him and into your bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. Roger follows you,  leaning against the doorframe.

  “You know, I think you owe me an explanation as to why you forgot about our lunch date, and threatened me.”

  Clicking your tongue, you turn to him, “I went to a pub with Brian last night, got plastered, now I’m hungover. Simple as that.”

  He raises his eyebrows, almost knowingly, but doesn’t say anything.

“No need to be so sassy with me, I'm only asking.”

You sigh, “I know, I’m sorry,” he smiles, “now get out, I have to piss.”

You slam the door and hear him laugh from the other side, “What a lady!”

 “Bugger off!”

  Finally feeling human again after cleaning up and getting dressed, you slide a massive pair of dark sunglasses on the bridge of your nose and head out to where Roger parked his car.

  “Ready, princess?”

 You shoot him a sickly sweet smile, “You act as if being called princess bothers me.”

  Roger laughs, starting the engine and getting into gear, “You got me there.”

  The drive to your local favourite cafe is short, a totally walkable distance if you didn’t feel like death warmed up. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence until pulling into a parking space, when Roger turns to look at you once again. Your head is pressed against the window, eyes closed beneath your sunglasses, lips slightly parted as you take careful breaths to avoid nausea.

  “Christ, love, you really do look like shit,” he chuckles softly, a hint of concern laced in his insult, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  With one look at him, tears well up in your eyes against your will, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. Roger’s eyes widen, and in an instant, you’re pulled into his arms over the console as you begin to cry. He shushes you softly, one hand running up and down your back,

  “Shh, it’s alright. It’s going to be alright,” you’re thankful for having such a good friend like Roger, especially when he puts up with your hungover mood swings. However, you must look like an absolute trainwreck with your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, “Let’s go inside and get some food and a cup of tea down you, yeah? Then if you like, you can tell me what’s troubling you.”

  You nod, sniffling and wiping away your tears on the back of your hand. Roger jumps out of the car and rushes to the passenger side, where like an angel, he walks you into the cafe with a hand on your back.

  You attract a few disparaging stares when you both sit down at a table, a small chuckle slipping past your lips. Roger, now across from you, looks puzzled, “What’re you laughing about, hey?”

  “Everyone’s staring.”

  He scans the room indiscreetly, a smile taking over his features, “God, they are, aren’t they? Haven’t they ever seen a hungover girl crying before?”

  You scoff, “Bugger off, they’re obviously staring at your trainers.”

  He gasps, looking underneath the table to examine his sparkly pink converse, “What have you got against my trainers?”

  “Me? Nothing. But a bunch of elederly ladies out for lunch might. I’m sure they think your hair is a disgrace too. You should cut your hair like McCartney had it at the start of The Beatles.”

  Roger scoffs, pulling out a cigarette, “Yeah right. Been there, done that.”

  As Roger lights up a smoke, you look at the menu set out in front of you, deciding on something that won’t aggravate your fragile stomach. Then you proceed to give Roger puppy dog eyes until you persuade him to be the one to go up and order it.

  When he’s gone, you take a moment to think over what you and Roger must really look like to some people. Roger, all bleach blonde hair, brightly coloured clothing and a smirk that could make even a nun go mad. And you, puffy eyed, sunglasses indoors, in an oversized button-up shirt that you’d definitely stolen from one of the boys at some point. You both probably were the most exciting things that some of these people had seen in awhile. Something new to gossip about.

  A glass of water is set in front of you by the one and only roger, while he sips tenderly at a cup of sweet coffee, “Drink.” he commands.

  “But I ordered coffee,” you pout like a child, “You’re kicking me when I’m down here, Rog.”

  He rolls his eyes, “Coffee doesn’t help hangovers, love. Drink up.”

  You frown but nonetheless begin sipping in silence, tapping your nails against the table as Roger stares at you, “What?”

  “Just wondering if you’re going to tell me what got you so upset earlier?”

  You let out a sigh, long and weary, fiddling with an opened sugar packet, “Would you believe me if I said that it was just hormones?”

 “Not in the slightest.”

 You let out a short laugh through your nose, “I just let myself get heartbroken again, that’s all.”

  Roger pretends to choke on his coffee, spluttering dramatically and ignoring all the stares that he attracted, “Someone managed to break Y/N’s cold, dead, heart?”

  “If you were quiet for a moment you’d notice I’m not laughing.” You roll your eyes at him.

  Noticing your demeanour, he quiets down and leans in close to you, “I’m sorry, it’s just that you never let yourself get to the point of being able to be heartbroken,” he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray, “you know, you told me about a year ago that love doesn’t exist, and dating is just a trial period until you decide that maybe you can put up with that person for the rest of your life.”

   “I didn’t say that.”

  “You did, word for word.”

  You stay silent, but your top lip twitches into a smile- it does sound like something you’d say.

  “Anyway,” Roger continues, “who broke your heart? I’ll rough 'em up a bit.”

  “Surely you couldn’t rough up a member of your own band.” You speak under your breath, arms crossed, but Roger hears you.

  “I knew it!” He shouts, and you kick him underneath the table, “sorry,” he blushes, “I just knew it. I had a feeling you were in love with Brian.”

  Your eyes widen, “I’m not in love with him!”

 Roger smirks, “So it is Brian, then?”

 Your jaw drops at his trick, “You bloody asshole.”

  He sits back in his chair with a smug grin on his face, coffee cup in hand, “So, tell me about it.”

  You scoff, “You’re such a dick sometimes, you know that?”

  “You love me all the same.”

  You roll your eyes for the thousandth time, as you always seem to do around Roger. You stare at him, arms crossed in silent defiance and attempt to communicate with your eyes ‘I’m not going to tell you because you were a dick.’

  He sighs, uncrossing his arms to place his elbows on the table, “Come on, I’m sorry! Please tell me what happened?”

  A server comes over with your breakfast, allowing you to torture Roger for a few moments more as you chew a bite slowly. After you swallow, you finally sigh, “Fine. Ask me what you want to know.”

  Roger’s eyes light up, “How long have you loved-” he stops when you gives him the eye, “liked, him?”

  “Almost five years.”

  “Bloody hell, Y/N.”

  “I know! I know. It’s not good. Trust me I’ve tried to get over it.”

  “And you’ve never told him how you feel?”

  You scoff, “Of course not, that’s suicide.”

  “Why?”

  You put down your fork, finishing your mouthful of food, “You act like you haven’t seen the way Brian is,”

  Roger stays silent, waiting for you to continue, “He’s so…elusive. His shyness and sensitivity make him a real fucking magnet if you haven’t noticed. And he has this thing where he needs to constantly be pining after someone, and it’s just never been me.”

  You take a deep breath as your eyes focus on the rim of your glass, “He’s just not interested in me as more than his best friend, and I think that’s okay.”

  “Why do you think that’s okay?” Roger asks softly.

  “Because if I don’t accept that, then I won’t have Brian in my life at all. And that’s worse than the heartache.”

  Roger is silent, looking at you with sad eyes, but they don’t hold an ounce of pity. That’s something you love about him, he never pities you for feeling any sort of way, he’s just there to listen.

  “Well fuck, I can see why you got plastered last night.”

  You laugh, thankful for him shifting the mood to something more lighthearted.

  After lunch, Roger drops you off back at your flat, but not without a comforting pat on the top of your head and a promise to go for a drink soon.

  You smile to yourself as you fish your key out from your bag, twisting the lock and stepping inside.

  “Y/N.”

  You squeal, whipping around to see a lean figure standing up from your sofa, “Bloody fuck- Brian, what are you doing here?”

  Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, partly from being scared half to death, partly because Brian looks so good in a hoodie. He doesn’t often wear cosy clothes anymore since Queen gained more fame. Seeing him looking all soft in a navy blue hoodie makes your heart flutter. It reminds you of the times when you had first met. The both of you snuggled up underneath layers of blankets in his dingy flat when the heating broke (which was often), drinking copious amounts of tea and emptying his kitchen of all his food.

  “You gave me a key.” He scratches the back of his neck. Yeah, he knows he’s guilty.

 “I would have appreciated it if you’d rung me first.”

 Annoyance settles in as you remember last night, when he ditched you at the pub and left you to get a taxi home. If anything, he owes you the fare.

  “I did, you didn’t pick up and I got worried.”

  “I was out.”

  “I can see that now.”

   The room falls silent, Brian rocking back and forth on his heels. You cross your arms, waiting for him to speak. To explain himself.

  “Listen, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have left you like that last night. I was drunk-”

  “So was I.”

  “I’m-” he stops, sighing, “I’m really, really sorry. I’m a total prick…” he fades off as if he’s lost in thought, bottom lip pulled between his teeth and eyes worried. He looks genuinely troubled, as if he is really upset that he ended up ditching you.

  Against your better judgment, you sigh and uncross your arms, voice softening up, “Look, just don’t do it again, okay? It puts me in a really bad spot.”

  His eyes brighten at your acceptance, rushing over to give you a hug. You stand stiff as a board when his arms wrap around you, head nestled against your neck. Your pulse races, but you know better than to view this in any other way than just a friendly hug. You wrap your arms around him anyway, closing your eyes and just for a moment, pretending it is otherwise.

  “I want to make it up to you,” his voice is muffled against your shoulder, but he doesn’t dare let go, “I packed us a picnic, let’s go to the park. You can feed the ducks.”

  You pause, eyes opening and closing as you take breaths. You battle against yourself. Could you manage doing such an activity with Brian? One that feels like a date? Of course you can. Don’t be silly. He’s your best friend, how could you be casting his feelings to the side because of your own?

  “Can I feed the pigeons too?”

  He laughs, gripping your frame tighter, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Then you’re back in his car, a newer one, different from the cheap beat up one he had when you had first met. But still, it’s familiar, the scent of him mixed with leather. A basket and a blanket sits in his backseat, bringing a small smile to your face. This is the side of Brian you cherish the most. The side of him that cares so deeply for his friends. You’re not even sure if you could call it a ‘side’ of him. It’s just the way he is. He doesn’t ever intend to hurt or upset you. Suddenly, you feel guilty for being upset with him. He doesn’t owe you anything, he has every right to go home with other women.

  “So, where did you go earlier?” Brian asks, one hand on the wheel as he glances over at you and then back at the road.

  “I went out for lunch with Roger,” you smile at his side profile, the way his hair moves against the breeze through his open window, the way his nose hooks ever so slightly, “he nursed my hangover.”

  Brian’s lips seem to flick into a frown, but shift back into a smile before you could really register it, “Seems as though I’ve been replaced.”

 You roll your eyes, “No one nurses my hangovers as well as you do, Bri, don’t worry.”

 You giggle fondly at the memories of the both of you nursing each other through your hangovers, Brian always better at dealing with them than you were. He’d be up bright and early, pop two ibuprofen, down a cup of coffee and be well on his way to recovery. Whereas you’d sleep until noon and be unbelievably moody until eventually someone forced you to do something with your day.

  Brain somehow always knew how to pull you out of those moods, though, whether it be bringing you a plate of pancakes and cracking stupid jokes until eventually you had no choice but to laugh, or by sitting with you in silence and pushing a glass of water and painkillers in your direction. He just always seemed to know exactly what you needed in the moment.

  “I’d hope not,” he tuts, “otherwise I’d have to find another hobby, and I quite like taking care of you.”

  Your breath catches, skin burning, but you play it off with a scoff, “You make me sound like a child.”

  He laughs, a bellowing laugh that you always love to hear, “A child? Certainly not. Children swear a hell of a lot less.”

  “Fuck off!” you swat his shoulder lightly but can’t help your grin. It feels good to fall back into the rhythm of normalcy with Brian.

  The sun is high when you reach the park, the sky a bright blue except for a few sparse clouds. The two of you walk silently to the pond, laying out the blanket on a soft patch of grass.

  “I know you already ate,” Brian says as he sits down on the blanket, “but I bought a packet of custard creams because I know you like them.”

  The small gesture makes you embarrassingly happy, grinning at him as he passes you the packet, “You can never be too full for biscuits, you know that.”

  “Very true,” he smiles at you almost in adoration, you think, “I also got a bag of bird seed because people still feed the ducks bloody bread.”

  You hum as you bite into a custard cream, staring into space as you get lost in thought. Spring weather in London is one of your favourites, when the sun shines just enough to warm your skin, but you still have to cosy up a bit. And today,  it’s the perfect temperature for a picnic.

  “Hey, so I was thinking,” Brian begins, opening up a sandwich for himself and taking a bite, “Since the band doesn’t have to start recording again for a bit, we should all go on a road trip somewhere.”

  You look over at him, eyebrows raised, “Where were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Wales maybe? I just thought a change of scenery might help us all write new songs.”

  Nodding your head slowly, your lips twitch up into a smile, “I’d love that. Have you mentioned it to the boys yet?”

  “Briefly, and they seemed to like the idea, but no plans have been made.”

  You hum, “Well, let’s set the date and they’ll just have to clear their schedules.”

  Brian laughs, “Alright, next thursday. We can stay until Monday.”

  “Perfect.”

  The two of you chat for a while longer, before packing up the basket and walking alongside the pond, throwing bird seed for the ducks and laughing as they all fight for the same pieces.

  It feels so idyllic, walking through the park with Brian. It seems to be all couples here today, holding hands or staring at each other with looks of adoration on their faces. It almost makes you feel queasy. Perhaps it’s just eating those custard creams right after eating lunch with Roger. Either way, your stomach twists and leaps with too many indescribable feelings. You wish it would stop.

  Brian tips the last bits of bird food out of it’s bag, before scrunching it up and putting it in his pocket. You both watch as the birds eat the remaining seed, before looking up at you for more. Once they realise there’s nothing else for them, they drift gracefully away, to the opposite side of the pond where someone else may feed them some more.

  Then you continue your stroll, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your faces and the crisp air in your lungs.

  But then Brian looks down at his watch, swearing underneath his breath and turning to face you, “Y/N, I’m so sorry but I’m going to have to cut this short.”

  Your eyebrows furrow into a frown, “Is everything alright?”

  You both begin to walk in the direction of his car, “Everything’s fine, I just forgot I have to meet someone in an hour.”

  Your stomach drops. Brian never usually says ‘someone’. His friends are your friends and you’d always refer to them by name. ‘Someone’ means someone you’ve never met, and almost always it means a girl.

  “Oh, okay,” you try to hide the disappointment in your voice, “that’s totally fine!” you force a wide smile.

  He grins back at you as you both get into his car, “I’ll make it up to you, love.”

  You return his smile, but deep down you know. He said that earlier, too.

  Soon you’re back at your flat, waving goodbye to Brian from your doorstep and letting your smile drop into a frown as he drives away.

  The clock reads 4 o’clock when you reach your bedroom, sighing deeply as you get changed into comfier clothes and slump down on your sofa with a cup of tea.

  God, it’s so tiring.

  The sun is still high outside, your favourite aspect of spring and summertime, the longer days, but tonight you almost wish it was late so that you could fall asleep and not have to think about Brian.

  But alas, he swirls around your brain as you stir your tea, looking down into the cup as it whirlpools. You wonder if Brian could be seeing the girl he went home with last night, or someone else. You don’t want to wonder, you’re not even sure if you actually want to know who it is. It would push you into the deep darkness of insecurity, and you’d compare every aspect of yourself to whomever it is.

  So instead, you flick the telly on and melt mindlessly into the arms of whatever is on, not even really focussing on it.

  Monday morning, you’re at work again, typing up documents all day as you’d usually be doing. The monotony could kill you, and your fingers hurt from the stiff keys of the typewriter. It’s times like these where you feel envious of your best friends’ profession- for the boys of Queen, monotony is never an issue. They can complain about recording studios all they want, but they would never dare to wish for your job, and they know that.

  You asked your boss early if you could get Thursday to Monday off, and by some sheer miracle he had agreed, but not without massaging your shoulders in a way that made your skin crawl. It was one of the biggest downsides about working in an office amongst mostly men. While they spent their days barely working, and instead drinking the day away together while playing mini golf in their offices, you worked until your fingers went numb and the back of your neck felt like it was being jabbed with fifty needles. Yet they still believed they were entitled to touching you whenever they liked.

  Either way, you had managed to get a few days off to go on a road trip with all of your best friends, and that’s what keeps you going throughout the week. You daydream about exploring castle ruins and walking along the beach with Brian, allowing yourself to dip your toes into the idea of a relationship. While you were confined within four blank office walls, the thought of Brian kept you sane.

  He phoned you two days after your picnic, confirming that the boys had all agreed to a road trip and booked a hotel for Thursday afternoon. Things were all going smoothly, even as you packed your bag on Wednesday evening in preparation to set off early the next morning. You float happily around your flat, humming along to your records and planning out outfits for the trip. When you fall into bed that night, you can barely wait for dawn to break.

  But as they always say, be careful what you wish for. Because when you step out onto your front steps on Thursday morning, bags in hand and a grin like the sun, you notice not one, but two cars. Brian’s and John’s. Your smile falters, you thought you were all squeezing into Brian’s car?

  “Y/N!” Freddie exclaims when he sees you, rushing to help with your bags and put them in the boot of Brian’s car, “God, I’ve missed you, darling!”

  You pull him into a tight embrace, “I’ve missed you too. You don’t have time for me anymore with all your wild parties.”

  He scoffs, “If only you’d attend them, lovie, then we’d see each other more!”

 You roll your eyes playfully and look around at the two cars. The driver’s seat of Brian’s car opens, a small but almost seemingly nervous smile on his face.

  “Hey, Y/N,” he scratches the back of his neck, “how are you?”

  You narrow your eyes, and you feel Freddie’s body language stiffen beside you as if he knows something you don’t.

  “I’m alright?” You reply as a question, curious to why everyone seems so nervous.

  “Good, good,” he nods, inhaling before saying, “You wouldn’t mind sitting in the back seat, would you? Natasha already took the passenger side.”

  Your lips part slightly, realisation setting in. He brought a girl.

  You turn to Freddie in silent shock, asking with your eyes what the hell is happening? He leans over to whisper quietly, “I offered to take your place and you sit with Rog and John, but Brian was adamant.”

 You gulp, turning back to where Brian stands, “Sure, that’s fine.”

 He grins, sitting back in the driver’s seat. You turn to Freddie, eyes like a deer in headlights. A five hour drive. With Brian and his possibly girlfriend. He pats your shoulder, giving you another hug before getting into John’s car.

  You have no choice but to slip into the backseat, sighing into the leather. The radio is already on, all the windows down to let in the cool early morning air. You glance to the front of the car where a woman sits in the passenger side. You can see her face in the wing mirror, insecurity eating away at you already as you examine her. She’s gorgeous, with thick auburn curls that frame a sharply defined face. You can even see that her eyes are a taunting shade of emerald green.

  Clearing your throat. You lean forward and hold your hand out, forcing a smile on your face, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

  She turns to glance at you, but not before giving you a once over, sharp lips not so much as twitching into a smile. She takes your hand into a weak handshake, shaking once before letting go and letting her hand rest back into her lap.

  “Natasha.” She says bluntly. You glance over to Brian as he drives, waiting for him to react in some sort of way at the way you’ve been greeted, but instead you’re met with his usual kind smile and eyes that gleam with blissful ignorance.

  You sniff awkwardly, leaning back into your seat and getting comfortable against the window. You can see Natasha staring at you in the wing mirror, but you try your best to ignore it. It practically sears your skin, making you squirm in your seat. You hated feeling intimidated by people, absolutely despised it, but Natasha was everything you weren’t. She had Brian. And the passenger seat.

  The radio fades into one of your favourite songs, one of Brian’s too, The Air That I Breathe by The Hollies. You’d often drive with the windows down, belting out the lyrics and laughing at who could sing the loudest. The memory brings a smile to your face.

  “I love this song, can you turn it up-”

  “God, I hate this song,” Natasha interrupts, “I didn’t even like it when it came out three years ago.”

  Brian looks torn, eyes flickering to you in the rearview mirror. You challenge his gaze, narrowing your eyes ever so slightly to gauge his next move. Your stomach sinks as he drops your gaze in guilt, flicking to the next station.

 The smug look on Natasha’s face just adds salt to your wound, her eyes like a snake’s, sly and dangerous. In that moment you decide that your best friend must be an absolute idiot. You also decide that you really, really don’t like Natasha.

  Five hours does not go by in a flash, much to your dismay, and you’ve had to listen to Brian gush over Natasha for the majority of the ride. Even when you all stopped halfway to get snacks, Brian came to your side when Natasha went to the bathroom, nudging your shoulder with a dopey smile on his face.

  “Isn’t she something?” He asks as you pull a few bags of crisps off of a shelf. You try your best to bite your tongue. After all, as long as Brian is happy, you’re happy.

  “She’s definitely something.” You reciprocate his smile, albeit forced.

  “I think you and her will be great friends.”

  You refrain from rolling your eyes. Even if you wanted that, Natasha made it very clear that she did not want anything of the sort. How could Brian be so unaware of the dynamic that took place between you and her? Are men really that thick? You can barely believe it. For someone as intelligent as Brian, he’s being incredibly dense.

  But regardless, you nod, “Totally.”

  Natasha steps out of the bathroom and makes her way over to where the two of you stand, completely ignoring your presence, “Let’s go to the car.”

  She grabs Brian’s arm, and before you can so much as complain, the food Brian had grabbed is dropped in your arms, leaving you alone to pay. Your eyes follow them as they leave, hand in hand as they laugh. They look good together, you can admit that. Two perfect people.

  You sigh, turning to glance around the small petrol station shop, shaking your head to yourself and going to pay for yours and Brian’s snacks.

  And then the remaining two hours or so blur by as you lean yourself against the window, blocking out the sound of Brian and Natasha’s conversations and simply watching the world pass you by. You try to think of the green grass, the blue morning sky, the yellow sunflower fields that you pass.

  Brian’s hand rests on her thigh and he looks at her with something like a sparkle in his eyes. Suddenly you wish you stayed home. Maybe if you’d caught a cold or your boss didn’t give you time off this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel like your heart is being torn out of your chest. Maybe then you could have ignored the fact that Brian has got a new woman in his life.

  Once you pull into the hotel car park behind the rest of Queen, you nearly jump out of the car, immediately taking your bags out of Brian’s car, “What’s the room situation?” you ask Roger when he steps out of John’s car.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Roger winks playfully, “Nah, we have our own rooms, apart from them.” he nods towards Brian.

  You lean in to give him a pathetic hug, leaning heavily on his shoulder as you quietly groan, “I don’t even have the energy to tell you to fuck off right now.”

  He laughs, gripping your shoulders tightly, “You look like you need a drink. Or a nap.”

  “Or both.” you retort.

  Brian and Natasha walk up to where you stand, Natasha plastering a fake smile on her face as she greets Roger, “Roger, I didn’t realise that Y/N was your latest fling, how sweet.”

  Roger tenses, as do you. Now she’s insulted both of you in one. But just as you’re about to speak your mind, Roger tightly wraps his arms around your shoulder, “Actually, Y/N’s my girl.”

  You glance up at him in shock, lips parted and eyes wide. You turn back to Natasha, noticing that Brian is staring at you with a look of shock on his face, maybe betrayal? You’re not sure, but he looks angry. His fist clenches at his side absentmindedly.

  And that makes you angry. Even if you were actually dating Roger, what does that have to do with him? So you decide to put a wide smile on your face, lifting your arms to hold Roger’s around your shoulders. You don’t speak, but your actions say it all. You giggle, melting into his embrace. It feels strange, but Roger and you are close enough to know that this is fine.

  Freddie and John walk over, looks of confusion on their faces, but decide to stay out of it when they see the looks on Natasha and Brian’s faces.

  “You’re seeing each other?” Brian asks incredulously, ignoring Natasha’s presence beside him.

  “That’s right,” Roger replies before you can, “Is that so hard to believe?”

 “Yes,” Natasha laughs, “It is.”

  Roger’s grip tightens around you. You recognise this side of him, the fierce protectiveness he feels over his friends. Roger has been known to get into fights if someone speaks badly about his friends. He simply won’t tolerate it.

  His actions are strictly platonic, but he’s not going to let someone speak badly of you. Especially not Natasha, now that he knows about the way you feel about Brian.

   “And why is that?” He grits his teeth, and you squeeze his arm gently to communicate that it’s okay. You don’t need his protection, you can manage.

  “Well,” Natasha begins, and you glance at Brian’s expression. He stares directly at you, gaze unfaltering. He isn’t even hearing what is being said, “You usually tend to go for much more...visually appealing women.”

  Ouch.

 You’re not gonna lie, that hit you right in the ego. It’s not as if you had much confidence before anyway.

  That’s when Brian breaks his stare to look at Natasha, a dumbfounded look on his face, “What-”

  But Roger interrupts, anger prevalent in his tone, “I don’t think you’re one to gauge who’s visually appealing and who isn’t, Natalie.”

 You hold back a giggle, albeit a hurt one, trying to hide your pain behind an unbothered smile. But you fear that your body betrays you as you tilt your head down, hands dropping from Roger’s arm to cross over your stomach.

  Natasha opens her mouth to speak, but Freddie intercepts, “Alright! Okay, we should go find what rooms we are in and freshen up. I need a beauty nap.”

  You’re thankful for Fred, giving him a discreet nod to which he responds with a wink. You take one last look at your supposed best friend, Brian, not a trace of sympathy for him on your face. How could he not defend his best friend of years from his girlfriend he’s probably only known for a couple weeks at most?

  Baffled and dejected, your feet move mindlessly along with Roger as he steers the both of you into the hotel, muttering underneath his breath, “Dick.”

  “Who?” you whisper.

  “Brian.”

  You say nothing. You know it’s true, but it hurts a hell of a lot when your own best friend doesn’t stick up for you.

  Roger follows you into your hotel room when you reach it, watching as you flop into the soft white sheets with a long, weary sigh.

   Roger sits at the end of your bed, “Natasha’s a right pain in the arse.”

  You sit up, hair mussed and eyes tired, “I meant to ask, have you met her before?”

  He nods with a wince, “Unfortunately. She’s like that all the time. It’s baffling that Brian hasn’t noticed it yet. The lad’s usually quite level-headed.”

  You nod with a hum, staring out of the window behind him. You get most in thought momentarily, thinking about the way Brian was so truly oblivious to the way Natasha acted. He’s almost gotten into bust ups with men at bars who have disrespected you, but it seems to be okay when Natasha does it. Maybe love really is blind. The idea of them in love makes your guts churn.

  “Anyway,” Roger starts, standing up, “You should take a nap. I’ll come to wake you up in a couple hours for dinner, alright?”

  You smile, “Thanks, Rog. For everything.”

  He shoots you a cheeky wink, “Anytime, love.”

  So you gladly lay down in the cool white sheets once Roger is out the door, staring up at the ceiling until eventually you let your eyelids flutter closed.

 Two hours later, you’re up, bathed, and dressed, fiddling with the hem of your midnight blue dress in the mirror.

  Insecurity eats away at you each time your eyes scrutinise yet another perceived flaw. As much as you hate to admit it, Natasha’s words echo around in your mind. She’s right, you're not visually appealing. How could you be, when Brian won’t even look twice at you as more than a friend.

 A knock sounds at your door, Roger’s voice coming soon after, “Are you ready, love?”

 You snap out of your trance, pushing all the self-hatred aside to open the door. Plastering a wide smile on your face, you take his arm in yours.

  He raises a brow.

  “I’m not the one who told everyone we were dating,” you lightly pat his arm, “so hold tight, loverboy.”

  You meet the group outside by the cars once again, John leaning up against the side of his car and Freddie perched gracefully on the bonnet. Brian and Natasha however, are nowhere to be seen. You frown and ask Freddie where they are.

  “Not a clue, my dear. If they aren’t down in five minutes I’m leaving without them.”

  As if on queue, the couple in question walk out of the revolving doors. Brian’s face is flushed, Natasha’s smug. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why they’re late.

  You catch eyes with Brian and watch, hurt, as he looks away bashfully. Your chest pangs, just a bit, as you glance down at your dress for distraction.

  Roger squeezes your arm comfortingly, “Do you want to ride with us?”

  You shake your head, “Would it be bad if I said I wanted to keep an eye on them?”

  He smiles, “Cheeky.”

 You force a tight smile.

 In all honesty, you aren’t quite sure if you’ll be fine, but when you take another look at Natasha’s smirk, you let your anger be the driving force that pushes you into the back seat of Brian’s car.

  Luckily, they seem to behave themselves while you’re in the car. Well, Brian does. Natasha often tries to place her hand on his thigh, but he always pushes it off. You notice that something has changed since the drive earlier, a shift in Brian’s mood. He’s more bashful than ever, staying practically silent with his cheeks seemingly tinged pink permanently.

  Eventually, Natasha gives up with a huff, crossing her arms and looking out the window as the radio hums a tune none of you are paying attention to. Brian is looking straight at the road, and you’re watching him as he clenches and unclenches his jaw. The sun is just beginning to set beside him, silhouetting his face like an eclipse. He’s so beautiful, even when you’re annoyed with him, and even when he looks annoyed himself.

  He pulls into the car park, killing the engine and turning around to face you in his seat. You furrow your eyebrows as he stares, “What-”

  “Nat, could you give us a minute?”

  “But-”

  “I’ll meet you in the restaurant.”

  She stares at him baffled, looking at you and back to him, before rolling her eyes and getting out of the car. She slams the door and beelines to the entrance, leaving the rest of the boys no choice but to follow her. Roger shoots you a concerned look through the window, to which you return a reassuring smile. It does nothing to reassure yourself, though, as Brian’s fiery gaze is pointed directly at you.

  The car remains silent as both of you challenge each other to see who will speak first. You stand your ground and hold his glare, crossing your arms in defiance. He speaks up,

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you and Rog were together?”

  Your eyebrows shoot up, so that’s what this is about?

  “Why do you care?”

  He scoffs, turning away from you to look out of the window, “I don’t know, maybe because you’re my best friend and he’s my bandmate?”

  “Why does that matter?” You challenge.

  He just shakes his head with a spiteful chuckle, dodging the question, “Roger doesn’t date.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He’s just going to leave you for another woman, or worse, he’ll just do it behind your back.”

  “And I suppose you’re any better?”

  Your words are harsh, and you regret them the minute they came out. Especially when he turns to look at you with a flash of hurt in his eyes. Brian’s had his own share of infidelity, but he’s always felt guilty over it, as if it haunts him. You suddenly feel sick. He confided in you and you’ve just thrown it back at him.

  Without another word, he opens his door and steps out, slamming the door behind him. You watch as his figure retreats into the restaurant, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. Shit.

  You take a shaky breath, closing your eyes momentarily. You stand on trembling legs and make your own way into the venue, fingernails digging into your palms.

  Everyone is already sitting at the table when you join them, so you take your place in between Roger and John. Both of them look equally concerned, Roger’s eyes flickering to Brian across the table. You dare to glance up to where he’s glaring, fiddling with the tablecloth. His upper lip twitches like it always does when he’s angry, a tick that only you’ve ever noticed about him. His warm hazel eyes seem cold, but you can almost see the flames behind them. He’s pissed. More than pissed.

  Roger unwittingly adds fire to the flame when he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Everything alright, love?”

  You look at Brian once more, his napkin now clenched in his fist, you turn to Roger to whisper, “I think he’s mad.”

  Roger chuckles, “You think? The bloke looks like he wants to castrate me.”

  “I think he probably does.” You sigh.

  Thankfully, always the life-saver, Freddie begins reenacting a run in he had with a fan in a public toilet the other day, and everyone begins loosening up. Well, except for Brian. He’s pretty much silent throughout dinner. Even when Natasha tries to pat his arm or whisper something in his ear, he keeps the same disgruntled look upon his face. You find yourself becoming angrier with every passing moment.

  Who does Brian think he is? How can he let his girlfriend walk all over you, then he insults you, and then he somehow has the right to be angry with you?

  It’s bullshit, and you shoot daggers at him over your dessert. You don’t even want it. It’s your favourite and everything.

  You turn to John, ever the organised one, “Hey, do you know what we’re doing tomorrow?”

  He tilts his chin up and chews on one side of his mouth as he thinks, “I think we planned to visit Conwy Castle.”

  You nod, humming, “Cool.”

  It’s only the first night, and the trip still has five more days, but you find yourself anxious to return home. Especially in the dim lights of a small Italian restaurant as Brian stares at you with that unforgiving gaze, you wish to be anywhere but.

  Brian and Natasha left before everyone else, skipping their coffee and choosing to head back to the hotel. They didn’t so much as question how you’d be getting back. Instead, they left you with the remaining three Queen boys, all of their curious eyes on you.

  They want answers, you can see it on their faces. It’s the first moment all of you have had together without Brian and Natasha there and they want to know what the bloody hell is going on.

  You shake your head at their silence, taking one final bite of your dessert, “Don’t ask me anything, because I don’t have a fucking clue.”

  You huff as you flop back onto the bed. It’s far past sunset, and your hotel room is dim except for the orange glow of the street lights outside your window. Roger, John and Freddie decided to go find some sort of bar to finish the evening, but you asked them to drop you off at the hotel so that you could sleep. Except you couldn’t, your mind wired with so many thoughts of Brian that you couldn’t so much as close your eyes. You decided that staring up at the ceiling wasn’t helping, instead it was making the thoughts worse, so you got out of bed and walked to the balcony and stared out over the sea, letting the cold air of the night nip at your bare skin.

  Just as you close your eyes, there’s a knock at the door, echoing through the sound of the waves in the distance. The tiny clock at the side of your bed reads just past midnight as you pad through the dark to get to the door.

  You open it a crack, “Who is it?” you ask gently.

  “Brian.”

  Your pulse jumps slightly as you open the door the rest of the way and take in his appearance. His eyes are tired and sunken, his hair mussed as if he’d been tugging on it. You wonder if it was him who tugged on it, or someone else, but based on the way his head is bowed, you don’t think anything of the sort happened.

  “Hi,” you gulp, treading lightly, ashamed of the words you threw at him earlier this evening, yet anger still fizzles within you softly.

 “Hi,” he breathes, hand rubbing the back of his neck, “did I wake you?”

 “No,” you shake your head, “couldn’t sleep.”

  “Neither.”

  “Is Natasha awake?”

  He pauses, looking at the floor and then back at you, “She’s asleep.”

  You nod, quiet after his response. What now?

  “Do you...want to come in?”

 You step aside after he nods, quietly walking through the doorway and into the dimness of your room, and then out onto the balcony. You follow, mind racing a million miles a minute, watching his back as he leans against the railing.

  You join him, staring out at the starry reflection of the moon against the sea, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  He turns to look at you, though you don’t return his glance. Instead you bask in his gaze upon your face as the wind flutters through your hair and the moon glitters against your skin.

  “It is,” he whispers, his own hair rustled by the wind as he continues to stare at you.

  Neither of you speak for a while, just watching the water as it shimmers like diamonds, though you’re both aware of the words unsaid and the words that were. But for a few moments the two of you decided to ignore the rift between you, and instead let the soft silver gleam of the moon heal your aching hearts.

 But things must not go unsaid for too long or they will fester, and you’re the first to speak, “Why’d you come see me, Bri?”

  He sighs, looking down at his hands, “I came to say sorry. I shouldn’t have said that stuff about Rog, he’s a good guy.”

  You stare at him for awhile, “He is a good guy,”

 Brian’s eyebrows seem to fall, which causes your own to furrow. You continue, “but did you mean what you said?”

  He looks into your eyes and you know instantly that he did. The only reason he’s come to apologise is because he upset you.

  “I did.”

 Though it angers you, you admire his honesty. You can’t be so frank with him, you’d end up spilling your feelings.

 “Is it so unbelievable that someone like Roger would like someone like me?”

 It feels odd talking about Rog as if he’s actually your boyfriend, but you’re hurt. Natasha’s earlier words cut like a knife, and hearing Brian think the same would cut like no other.

  “That’s not what I meant at all. You’re just…” he trails off and looks back at the sea, shaking his head.

  “I’m what?”

  “You’re...perfect. You’re too good for someone who will hurt you”

  The sound of the wind fills your silence, a sense of confusion and joy fluttering in your stomach. You wish you could tell him that you appreciate his concern, but he’s been the one hurting you all this time. However it’s not his fault, and you remain quiet. He called you perfect.

  You search his face for any sign of anything, any twitch of his brow that might give anything away, but he’s stoic as always.

  “But you can’t be the one to make that decision for me.” you breathe, choosing to ignore what he said. Perhaps you’re scared of him taking it back, or claiming it was nothing. You want to hold onto the very feelings you feel now, after Brian has called you perfect underneath the moonlight.

  “I know.” he sighs, looking down at his hands. You’ve always loved his hands, his long slender fingers that are often adorned with a couple silver rings, usually on his pinky finger. You’d often imagined the way they might feel against your bare skin, but each time you dared to delve into that idea, you quickly shut it down.

  The fact that you’ve been lying to Brian about Roger makes you feel wretched, eating away at your insides as you chew on your bottom lip. It feels as though you’re seeing a bit more of Brian’s private thoughts, and he’s only shared them with you because he thinks you’re dating Roger.

  The confession is right there on the tip of your tongue, a loud exclamation of truth ready to erupt from inside of you, “Brian-”

  “-Y/N” he begins at the same time, and immediately all courage is lost. The boiling truth returns to a simmer, and your racing heart begins to still.

  You both chuckle, a sense of normalcy returning for the first time tonight as he scratches the back of his neck, “You first.”

  Shaking your head, you give him a small smile, “Not important, you go.”

  He nods, taking a breath as if to build his courage back up, turning his body to face you entirely. You do the same, concerned at the sudden seriousness that’s returned to his face. You watch in silence as he takes yet another deep breath, the dread inside of you intensifying.

  “I…” he begins, and you want to grab him by the shoulder and shake, tell him to spit it out already because you feel nauseated.

  “It’s terrible of me to say this, and I know I have no right whatsoever to do so, but...I don’t want you to date Roger.”

  You’re taken aback by his blatant request, baffled at why he is so against the idea of you and Roger being together, “Why not?”

  He looks just as irritated as you, all civility that you’d built up just moments before knocked down like a house of cards. It’s as if the idea of you not listening to his request infuriates him, and in return that makes you equally angry.

  “I told you before.”

  “But we agreed that this isn’t your decision.”

  At this point, you aren’t sure why you’re continuing to act as if Roger is your boyfriend. Perhaps you’ve let it go too far and to confess now would damage your dignity. Or maybe you want to see how far Brian is willing to go with his request. Surely he won’t force the two of you apart.

  “It’s not my decision, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable?!” you raise your voice. This conversation is going in the complete wrong direction, but you can’t seem to stop it, or stop yourself. The two of you are both passionate people always speaking for what they believe in, and in this case you are on opposing sides. Like fire and ice, or darkness and light, the two of you battle against each other.

  “Yes! Uncomfortable!”

  “Go on then, explain to me why it makes you so uncomfortable.”

  “He’s my bandmate-”

  “And why does that matter?”

  “You’ll be a distraction!”

  “I’ve known you all for years, and suddenly now that I’m dating one of you, I’m a distraction? Nice, Brian.”

  He goes to speak, but you interrupt, “And what about Natasha, huh? Is she not a distraction? Or is it just me then?”

  “She doesn’t come to the studio with us like you do.”

  “You were the one who told me that you love when I come to the studio.”

  He looks flustered, “I do, but-”

  “You’re not making any sense,” you say, exasperated, “what is the big deal about me dating Roger?”

  He doesn’t answer, instead staring at you with a burning intensity behind his caramel irises. A siren blares in the distance and a cloud sheathes the moon in a grey cast. It’s as if his answer is in his eyes, but you just can’t catch it. You’re both speaking two different languages.

  “I should go,” he says finally.

 Muddled thoughts race through your head. You want to say so many things but nothing comes out, your mind a jumbled mess of intertwined wires. Goddamnit,  Y/N, say something.

  He turns to walk through the hotel room, and you have no choice but to watch his back as he retreats. But then he stops in his tracks, turning to look at you once more. He has hurt written across his face, you can see it even in the darkness.

  “Where is Roger, by the way?”

  He tilts his head to the side, challenging you to answer him. You stare in silence, no answer on your tongue.

 He nods, his own point proven to himself as he goes to turn back around, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

[fan-fantasies]

Christmas Miracle (Kim Hongjoong)

Prompts?: “Come and kiss me baby, we don’t need no mistletoe” -Ariana Grande (Wit it This Christmas)

“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.” -Elf

Paring?: hongjoong x reader

warnings?: swearing, situations of drinking, (i think thats it)

A/N: Hey everyone, so i’m pretty nervous to post this, it’s been awhile since i last posted something. I’ve been struggling with some mental health situations which left me unmotivated and overall not myself. So i’m hoping that this turns out as good as i think it is. I write this for an Ateez Winter prompt, I thought why not start of the year with something wholesome? Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. <3 Breezy

Winter was a beautiful season, the snow, the pretty Christmas decorations that seemed to be everywhere you looked. You wouldn’t say that you hated winter, seeing it was the best time of year for hot chocolate in front of a fire or curling up under warm blankets for a movie night in. Though for the love of all things, why did it have to be so cold?! 

The wind blew on your walk to class, after your car neglected to start due to the frigid temperatures, there was no other option but to bundle up and walk the small distance to your university. At least it wasn’t snowing but the dark clouds were telling a different story. What a wonderful day today was going to be. You decided that maybe a warm cup of hot coco would help your day get better, there was a small cafe right by the school that you had never had time to stop before but today seemed to be the day. The cafe was quiet, the soft sound of the radio kept it from being too quiet. At the register was a fairly tall man, dark hair that was pushed to the side so it wouldn't cover his eyes. His name tag read, 'San'. When he saw you he spoke cheerfully, greeting you with a warm smile.

"Good morning! What can I get for you?" He cheerfully asks causing you to cringe a bit. It was too early.

"Hi " you spoke softly, "can I get a medium hot chocolate?” you order now returning a smile. As you prepared to take out your wallet, he stops you.

“It's on the house," he says, "it seems like you need it." His smile never left his face. You honestly couldn't tell if it was fake or if he just loved his job that much.

"Hongjoong, one hot cocoa!" He shouts to his coworker who stood by the machines seemingly already working on it. From where you stood, Hongjoong was shorter than his co-worker, his hair a dark brown and, to be honest, looked soft. You couldn't see his face but you wished you could.

While you wait, San kept a light conversation going, seeing as he had no customers, not like you minded.

"Where are you heading off too?" He asked curiously.

"Well I'm heading to one of my classes at the university. Art history." You tell him honestly.

His eyes light up hearing that class, "Then you likely know Wooyoung!" he exclaims, “He's our roommate."

San motions towards Hongjoong. “Well one of our roommates, we share an apartment with a few friends." San glances in the direction of his coworker who was hard at work.

He spoke quietly, "do you think I could get your number?" You were surprised at how forward he was.

Your expression made him chuckle, "Not for me silly, Joong over there has been sneaking glances at you, and I've seen your eyes wander too," he teases, "he's just a little nervous to get out there." San explained quietly hoping his friend didn't hear the conversation. Typically you weren't one for giving your number out but you had to admit his friend was cute... 

"yeah, give me something to write it down" you say, your cheeks starting to feel warm. The male smiled widely before handing you a piece of receipt paper. You scribbled your number down quickly and handed it to the dark haired boy, who quickly took it and hid it before his friend came over with your drink. Your eyes finally met his, your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. 

His eyes were a dark brown, he was wore large rimmed glassed that only seemed to make him even more adorable if that was physically possible. His hair was parted in the middle, slightly showing off his forehead but it honestly framed his face wonderfully. Your train of thought was broken when you heard San speak up,

“We have to see you again! Now you better go before you’re late for class!” He exclaims which reminded you that, in fact, you had class to get to. 

“Thank you San, thank you Hongjoong.” You spoke quietly with a shy smile before leaving the cafe and heading down the street. Even with the unexpected stop, you were still making great time and were able to make it to class with five minutes to spare. 

“(Y/n)!” You heard the familiar hyper voice yell. You glanced up seeing Wooyoung waving excitedly in your direction. He always acted if you never saw each other. 

“Good morning Woo.” You say with a warm smile. You sat in the seat beside him, as you always did, and he was quick to notice the cup that you had sat down. 

“You stopped at a cafe?” He questioned curiously, he knew you hardly ever stopped. 

“Yeah, my car didn’t start this morning so I had to walk. I decided to stop to get something to warm me up a little.” You say with a chuckle. Your eyes scanned over the cup briefly only for you to now notices the small flower doodles and hearts on the part where they typically wrote the name for the order.

Wooyoung must have also noticed cause he gasped at it, “Awe!” Wooyoung was always so giddy when it come to you, especially if it had to do with you potentially dating. This man was absolutely invested in getting you into a relationship. 

“Did you get the name of the barista?” He questioned trying to get as much information as possible. 

You giggle at his question, “Yeah, I did.” You smile softly, “Also, I’m pretty sure San wanted me to say hi to you.” You say with a smirk. His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. You had never seen him so happy about something in his life. 

“It was San?!” He nearly shrieked trying to keep his voice down. 

“No, it wasn’t San. Though he was really trying to set one of your friends up with me.” You looked down at your hands shyly. “His name was Hongjoong.” This time Wooyoung couldn’t hold back the squeal that escaped him. 

He prepared to speak but was cut off when the professor began to start speaking. You instantly went into, what you liked to call, note taking mode. This was one of your favorite classes and you found it the most interesting out of all of them, so of course you were going to pay attention. 

Midway through the class you felt Woo gently poke your side, carefully sliding a small note to you. What was this? Eighth grade? 

‘So Hongjoong? ;)’ Was written on the note, you knew telling him about his friends was likely a bad idea… 

‘What about him?’ You wrote back, carefully sliding the note back. You knew Wooyoung was trying to hold back his excitement. 

When the note slide back you weren’t surprised to see what he had written. ‘What do you think of him?” 

You rolled your eyes at this, ‘IDK, he seems nice? I didn’t really get a chance to talk with him.’ You quickly wrote before passing it back, now fully focusing on the professors lecture. Wooyoung must have seen that you wanted to focus, cause he never passed the note back. 

The class went by slowly, though you didn’t really mind. It almost made you forget crappy your day had started out. 

Once the professor dismissed everyone, Wooyoung was at your side talking again. 

“You should come to our Christmas party!” He suggested, “It’s just us, we watch movies and just have a good time. Maybe you can talk to my buddy Hongjoong a little.” He teased with a wink. 

You both exited the classroom, through the hallway windows you could see that snow had indeed begun to fall. 

You groan in discontentment. “Why did my car have to stop working today?” You mumble watching the snow fall from the sky. 

“You can’t walk home in this! You’re going to catch cold.” He says, “I bet one of the guys would bring you home!” He pulls out his cell phone, “San and Hongjoong should be getting out of work soon. They could come pick you up.” He says tapping away at his phone.

“I don’t want to inconvenience them, I’ll just take the bus.” You tell him, he shook his head. Continuing to type away on his phone. 

“Too late, San already agreed. He said him and Hongjoong would pick you up outside the main building in 15 minutes.” Wooyoung giggled, a cute smile on his face.  

“Fine and I’ll think about your offer for the Christmas party.” The both of you hug before parting ways. 

Your walk to the main building was pretty quiet, most students were in their classes only a few stragglers wandered around. Likely, they too, were done with classes or meeting with professors before their final deadlines come up. To be honest, you hadn't thought much about them. 

You glanced out the front door, not daring to go outside unless you needed to. A few cars sat idling in the parking lot, Wooyoung neglected to tell you what type of car they drove. You stood there for a bit, in your back pocket your phone buzzed. A new text message.

You opened it, no name had come up so whoever it was you didn't have their number.

"this is San! " the text started with, "this is Hongjoongs phone so you should save his number." he had said, adding a winky face at the end. "Anyways, we are outside the silver Toyota." you glance out and the car seemed to pull up. Perfect timing you thought to yourself. You held your jacket close as you walked out into the cold, the snow seemed to be falling even more then before. You sped walked to the car, opening the backseat door, you were oddly surprised at how clean it was.

"hey (y/n)!" San enthusiastically says from the passenger seat. Hongjoong also greeted you but in a much quieter fashion.

"hi, I really appreciate you giving me a ride. I probably would have frozen solid if I had to walk." you say with a small laugh.

"I don't mind," Hongjoong spoke softly as he began to pull out of the parking lot. You told him your address and he headed in that direction. San made sure to keep the conversation going, he reminded you so much of Woo.

"How long have you known Wooyoung?" You curiously ask the two males.

"Well, Woo and I went to high school together. then we met this one when we moved in for university." San spoke happily, it was honestly kind of sweet.

 Hongjoong nodded in agreement, "If I would have known you two were so crazy I wouldn't have moved in." He teased with a smirk planted on his face. San gasped trying his best to act offended. This made you giggle, these two were insane, but you loved it.

The drive to your apartment was filled with stories and jokes. Maybe taking Wooyoungs offer would be fun. You thanked them both before exiting the car and heading to your apartment. You took off your coat and shoes before further entering your apartment. Your phone began to vibrate in your back pocket as you headed towards your room.

 The caller ID read, Wooyoung.

You answer. " yes Woo?" you asked enter your room and sitting at your desk.

"how was your ride?" he questioned in a teasing manner. 

You rolled your eyes,"it was great. San told me a lot of stories." you tease back.

Wooyoung was quiet for a few moments. "Nothing new," he calmly says, " Have you thought about the party?" 

" yeah, I've thought about it" you begin.' I think it could be fun... " you nearly dropped your phone at the sound of Woo young's shriek. This man was to excitable..

"the party is next weekend , well, we usually start Friday night but you can come by on Saturday, "he says cheerfully.

"I'll come by on Friday, I'll just crash on your couch or something." you weren't opposed to sleeping on the couch or floor.

"Or maybe you can share a bed with Hongjoong." you could practically hear him smirking but his comment made you blush none the less.

"Shut up Woo, don't make me regret this." 

He chuckled, "I promise you wont, I gotta go I'll see you in class tomorrow." The overly excited man hung up the phone leaving you in silence.

"That guys gonna be the death of me." you mumble to yourself before standing and continuing to do your afternoon routine.

The week passed by in a blur. Other than your work, the party was always on your mind. You weren't typically one for parties but maybe this could be fun.

Woo told you that you would go to his place after your class, his roomie Jongho was going to bring you..

"Are you excited for tonight? " Wooyoung questions as the two of you exited the lecture hall. Even after an exhausting class, he still somehow managed to have so much energy.

"Yes, I'm excited. I’ve never honestly been to any kind of party like this before.” You admit with a small sigh. Wooyoung let out a giggle, he gently grabbed you and continued to walk with you down the corridor. 

“Well then this will be even more fun!” He exclaims, “You’ll love everyone, we can be a little crazy but I think you’ll get along with them. If you don’t, well I’m sure Hongjoong would bring you up to his room where it’s quiet.” He teased as he gently nudged your side. You smiled at his teasing tone but didn’t say anything else. You knew Woo was planning something, you just weren’t sure what it was he was planning. 

As he had said, Jongho was waiting for the both of you in his car. Another figure in the car in the passenger seat. 

“Hey Jongho! Yunho!” Wooyoung exclaims as he gets into the car, you followed suit. “Guys this is (Y/n)! They’re in my art history class.” He says to his friends. The one driving, who you assumed was Jongho gave you a hello, while the other one gave you the brightest smile. 

“Hey there! I’m Yunho!” His energy almost matched Wooyoung’s which honestly kind of scared you but not in a bad way. You giggle at his enthusiasm but didn’t say anything in return. You let the two goofy friends chat about the plans for tonight, while you and Jongho sat in silence listening to them. 

“We have to make one stop before we go back to the apartment.” Jongho says as he pulled into the parking lot of a small store. 

He parked the car, “I’ll be right back.” He says as he exits the car and rushing into the store, likely so his friends wouldn’t do something stupid in his car. You honestly believed that these two would be capable of doing something stupid like that.

The two continued to joke, as if Jongho hadn’t left the car. 

“Come on (Y/n)! Tell him what happened at the cafe.” Wooyoung whined as he playfully nudged you. 

“Wait the cafe where we work?” Yunho questions with the biggest grin on his face. Wooyoung nods his head excitedly. 

“Come on Woo, don’t make me tell him.” You beg looking at your friend who had the biggest shit eating grin. 

“If you don’t, I will.” He teases hoping that his words might honestly push you to tell the story. When you kept your mouth shut he took that as his cue that he would be telling it for you. 

“San was trying to set her up with Hongjoong.” This news made Yunho giggle happily. Did all of his friends really want to set you up with Hongjoong? They hardly knew you. 

Before the story continued, the drivers side door opened and Jongho sat down into his seat. He handed the bag to Yunho who was still giggling like crazy. You would have figured Jongho would have questioned but he just silently began to drive again. This was going to be an interesting night…

You had been at their apartment for about an hour and honestly you were sure that this was just pure chaos. It had started with the nine of you but eventually nine turned to ten and ten turned into eighteen. Someone, who you honestly assumed was San, had invited Changbin, who in turn invited his eight rowdy friends. Put the two groups of friends together to have a purely chaotic party. 

Currently you were all listening to upbeat Christmas music, dancing together like it honestly didn’t matter. Most of you were drinking, leaving poor Jeongin and Jongho out seeing as though they were technically underage but it honestly seemed like they weren’t interested in the booze since you knew if they wanted to drink they could have just asked. 

You weren’t much of a drinker but tonight, you decided to let loose a little, drinking enough just to make your head spin a little. 

A cup in hand you danced and sung along with Han and Wooyoung to the upbeat music, you were all sharing giggles having just a good time. All you wanted to do is dance. Wooyoung continued to glance at Han, you believed they were being sneaky but you could easily see through them. What were they planning?

The more you danced with them, the closer they seemed to get to you, not like you minded. Though Woo was your best friend, you found him attractive anyone with eyes would agree and Han was just as good looking as him. Though you were sure, Woo knew his limits and would make sure nothing happened to you. 

You heard a laugh beside you as you and Wooyoung shouted along to the Christmas song that played. You looked over to see Yeosang and Hyunjin, who seemed really entertained by the show that was being put on. 

“What?!” You shout to them over the loud music, “The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear!” You shout to them only causing them to laugh. 

“Come on Yeosang! Hyunjin! Join us!” You say to them holding out your arm. They only laughed again before walking in the opposite direction. You look at Wooyoung and pout but continued dancing none the less. 

Wooyoung leaned closer, whispering in your ear, “Guess who won’t stop looking at you.” He whispered in a singsong voice. You glanced over your shoulder and sure enough Hongjoong was glancing at you from across the room as he seemed to be in a conversation with Seonghwa and Chris. His averted his gaze back to the two he was talking with. 

“What are you planning Woo?” You question glancing back at your friend who seemed to have a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“Don’t worry too much, me and Han are going to help you.” You wanted to question what he meant but both Woo and Han took your arm leading you to the empty couch to sit. Once you sat down, the music was turned down and everyone seemed to gather around sitting in the empty chairs and the floor. You felt Han place his arm over your shoulder casually, you knew he meant nothing by it. 

“Usually around now we would watch some cheesy Christmas movies, but it seems we have more guests than usual.” San chuckled knowing that this was his doing. The room erupted in chatter about how they really wanted to watch movies. 

“Put on a movie!” Felix shouted from his seat on the floor. The rest of the room agreed. 

San rolled his eyes, “Fine! We watch the same movies every year so thats what we will watch.” Everyone in the room cheered excitedly as Yeosang turned the TV on preparing it for their movie marathon. Wooyoung got up from his seat, leaving you and Han alone on the couch. You suspected this was part of the plan. 

Han leaned closer to you, “Play along, but let me know if you’re uncomfortable.” He whispered in your ear. You honestly thought that while he was enacting this plan with Wooyoung, that he wanted you to be comfortable above all. You nod slightly and lean back against the couch, his arm was still casually thrown over your shoulder though he made sure to sit a bit closer to you. It was at that moment, you knew exactly what they were doing. They were trying to make Hongjoong jealous enough to make a move. You laid your head on Han’s shoulder, playing along with their idea to set you up. You continued to sip at your drink as someone turned off the lights and started the movie. The seat beside you stayed vacant for some time until Wooyoung returned, it was clear though that he didn’t want to take this seat. 

The movie went on, you were likely halfway through the movie when you felt a sickening feeling in your stomach. 

“Woo where’s your bathroom?” You asked quietly not to disturb anyone else. 

He glanced at you, “Down that hallway, the last door on the left. Are you okay?” He questioned, concern in his soft voice. 

“Yeah, I-I just don’t feel too good.” You say honestly before standing from your seat, carefully stepping over everyone on the floor and speed walking down the hallway. You threw the bathroom door open, closing it gently before rushing towards the toilet. Falling to the floor you threw up into the toilet, a few stray tears fell down your cheeks just from the burning in your throat. 

There was a knock on the bathroom door, “(Y/n)?” A voice you weren’t expecting to hear called, you went to answer but instead vomiting again. Through your dry heaves you heard the door slowly open and close gently. There were no words spoken as Hongjoong walked behind you and held you hair away from your face. It was a sweet gesture that would have made your heart skip a beat if you weren’t sitting here vomiting. You felt his other hand gently rub your back in hopes to maybe sooth you. 

When you were sure that the contents of your stomach was empty you sat back against your heels. 

“I-I’m sorry you had to see me like this Hongjoong.” You whisper softly, your throat sore from throwing up. There was long period of silence but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. 

“Don’t be sorry, it happens.” He speaks softly, his voice calm and soothing. “Let me go get you some water and some mouth wash.” He chuckled softly before quietly leaving the room. 

You stood yourself up, supporting yourself against the counter as your felt light headed. You looked at yourself in the mirror, cheeks flushed from the tears that had fallen from your eyes. You looked like a disheveled mess. 

The bathroom door carefully opened again, Hongjoong entered with a cup of water and what you assumed was a bottle of mouthwash. He carefully handed you the cup, with shaky hands your first sip was to hopefully rinse this awful taste out of your mouth. The rest you carefully drank in hopes to sooth your hurting throat. 

“I’ll leave you to clean yourself up…” Hongjoong trailed as he turned to leave. 

“W-Wait, Hongjoong,” you began, “Will you wait for me outside the door? I’m feeling a bit dizzy.” You tell him.

He glanced back at you, a cute smile on his face. “Of course.” He left the room closing the door behind him. 

You took a few minutes to clean yourself up and be slightly more presentable before you slowly exiting the bathroom. As you had asked, Hongjoong waited for you. He offered you his arm, which you happily accepted. 

“C-Can I sit with you?” You quietly ask as you walked down the hallway together. 

He was quiet, “You don’t want to sit with Wooyoung and Han?” 

You giggled, did the plan actually work. “Why? Are you jealous?” You tease, a noticeable blush appearing on his cheeks. That gave you your answer. He didn’t particularly answer your question but when you got to the living room he brought you to his spot on the floor. You must have been gone for some time cause another movie had begun. Before you knew it, you were snuggling into his side, your eyes becoming heavy as you drifted to sleep. 

When you woke up you were in a completely different room, one you didn’t recognize. You tried to remember what had happened before you fell asleep, you remembered the movie and throwing up in front of Hongjoong. He was likely the reason you were in this bed. A soft snore snapped you from your thoughts, you carefully looked over your shoulder as saw Hongjoong. He was laying on his back, hair disheveled but it was cute. You carefully turn to face him, gently you place your head on his chest cuddling into him. His arm moved, wrapping itself around you holding you close. This felt so right… 

Hongjoong shifted underneath you, you glanced up to his face watching as his eyes flutter open. A blush appeared on his cheeks as he locked eyes with you. 

“Good morning.” You mumble softly a blush also appearing on your cheeks. Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you looked into each other eyes. A mental argument went on inside your head, should you make a move? Or just gaze into his eyes? You had a feeling that he was thinking the same thing. You sat there for what seemed like hours until his hand gently touched your cheek. His thumb gently rubbing against your cheek, the gesture was sweet but it was more than that… You shifted upwards, the both of your lips barely touching. 

“C-Can I kiss you?” He mumbles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. You didn’t answer, instead you leaned up and connected your lips together softly. Neither of you moved until Hongjoong deepened the kiss. His hand gently caressed your cheek as you shared this soft kiss. You pulled away slowly, your eyes locking once again. He sat up, his back now leaning against the headboard pulling you up with him as he once again locked lips with you. The hand on your cheek now rested on the back of your neck deepening the kiss. 

A loud crash caused the both of you to pull away. 

“What was that?” You question. 

Hongjoong sighed softly, “It’s more like who and I know exactly who it is.” He mumbled as he stayed close to you. 

“Sh-Should we go check on them?” You ask not particularly wanting to move from the position you were in. You squealed as he pulled you onto his lap to straddle his hips, his hands rested on your waist and yours wrapped gently around his neck. Your forehead again rested against his, your lips gently brushing against his again. You two would have likely kissed again if Hongjoongs bedroom door didn’t swing open causing the both of you to jump. Wooyoung stood there, the biggest shit eating grin ever imaginable on his face. 

“Wooyoung, get out.” You tell your friend, a threatening look in your eye that clearly sent a message to him cause he quickly shut the door and left you alone.

“That man really knows how to ruin a moment.” You say with a giggle as you looked at a flustered Hongjoong. “I think we should go check on them…” He gave you a nod, gently pecking your lips before you got up from the bed. 

You grabbed his hand gently as you both left his room, fully prepared to be teased by all of his friends. Which you were, though mostly it was his roommates being happy to see him with someone. The other nine boys, who must have crashed in the living room, joined them in being excited. Though Han was with you, saying that he was happy to see the two of you together. It was honestly kinda sweet seeing everyone so happy. 

The rest of the morning was spent eating a sweet breakfast that Wooyoung and Seonghwa made together, apparently this too was a tradition. You all sat around the living room, telling stories, laughing and genuinely enjoying the company of others. You were lucky enough to secure a spot on the couch next to Hongjoong, while San sat on the other side of you. It was nice to be able to cuddle into his side even if you were surrounded by everyone. 

Eventually the conversation seemed to shift into one that you never would have thought, it almost seemed cliche. A game of truth or dare amongst eighteen people. Well this was going to be fun.

They were harmless dares, like asking them to do silly things or things like that. It was honestly just fun amongst friends. Well, till it got to Hongjoong’s turn. 

“Alright Hongjoong, truth or dare?” Felix asked the elder who shifted in his seat. 

“Uh, dare?” He said as more of a question then answering the question. That made you giggle. 

“Well then, we all dare you to give your new girlfriend a big ol’kiss.” Some people in the room whooped and made sounds causing you to blush. He seemed hesitant unsure if you wanted to do this, his gaze locked with yours almost asking you for permission. 

You let out the smallest giggle, “Come and kiss me baby,” you say softly for only him to hear, “we don’t need no mistletoe.” You say in a teasing manner causing him to chuckle as well before leaning in and kisses you sweetly. The room erupted in cheers causing a blush to appear on your cheeks. It was a short but sweet kiss, you were sure neither of you wanted to pull away and likely you wouldn’t have if you weren’t surrounded by friends. 

The game continued on, picking fun at each other and having a good laugh. Before you knew it, everyone was getting ready to leave. Everyone said their goodbyes, Han made sure that he had contact with you cause you were pretty sure you had just made a new best friend. Once the nine boys left, you and the others continued to lounge in the living room. 

“(Y/N)!” Wooyoung shouted from the kitchen,

“What!?” You shout in return from the comfort of the couch as you laid across it with your head on Hongjoong’s lap. 

“Come help me!” You groan at his request before getting up and heading towards the kitchen. The biggest mess you had ever seen, Wooyoung was trying to bake… 

“Wooyoung, what in the world…” you begin, “Are you trying to make pie?” 

The happy boy smiled and nodded, “Yes I wanted apple pie.” He said. 

“We could have gone to the store.” 

He shook his head, “That’s no fun! Now help me, I know you know how to make apple pie.” He said. You rolled your eyes, and join him. 

“We are gonna need a few more hands, or this will take forever.” You tell Wooyoung, his eyes lit up as he rushed to the living room and came back with San and Hongjoong. 

You spent the rest of the afternoon baking with the chaos twins and Hongjoong. It was the most fun baking you had ever had. Once you put the pie in the oven, you set the timer and headed towards the living room. 

A hand grabbed yours, pulling you back, your back came in contact with a firm chest, his firm chest. His arms wrapped around you as he held you close and kissed your head. 

“I’m going to take you out tomorrow.” He says with a smile, “Where ever you want to go, I’ll take you.” He declares as he holds you close. 

“How about a coffee shop.” You say with a smirk causing him to chuckle. 

“Was their teasing not enough?” He questioned. 

You shook your head, “No.” You giggle, you glance up at him, there was a wide smile on his face. 

This was the man of your dreams, he was everything. Maybe he was your Christmas miracle. 

[xsugarysweetsx]

Hi!!!!! Can I request a Shoto Todoroki x reader where they have been dating for a while but he’s been hanging out with his female colleague a lot recently and the reader gets jealous. So she decides to make him jealous by flirting with Bakugo and of course he flirts back so Shoto gets really jealous and it ends in a hot steamy night together.

there is no smut included here since it is still not after October 9th yet. 

Please enjoy~🍰

*******************************************************

There she was again, hovering over his desk just begging for attention. You thought it would have been nice to bring him some Bento since he was in a rush this morning. Yet you come to this job to find this. You didn't want to get used to it, and you shouldn't but it was almost every day.

Either he would spend his lunch with you, and then she would come, or she was already there before you got to the company. You walked his desk and clear throat holding up the Bento. He gave you a smile and his hand found the small of your back as he stands. 

“Hey,“ he pecks your lips “Thanks this means a lot“ he thanked you taking the food from you. 

“Hello, Y/N how have you been?“ she asked a little too sweetly for your liking. That smile it seems so fake and irritated you so much. Her costume was just begging for men to spare her chest on top of that she was leaning over couldn't the message be any clearer? Then she has the nerve to smile at you and ask you how you were doing?

“Just fine, thought I would bring Todoroki his lunch“ you give a forced smile trying to hide your true feelings. Were you really jealous? You never took yourself for the jealous type, maybe in this situation but you had reason. 

“Awh, aren’t you lucky Shoto?“ and that is what you're telling you the most, she used his first name. Maybe it's because it's his hero name, but the way she uses it it's like they were on a first-name basis. Maybe it's because it's his hero name, but the way she uses it it's like they were on a first-name basis.

“I know I am, come on I’ve got 20 minutes“ he takes your hand and leads you to the lunchroom. You take a seat across from him and keep quiet, something you don’t usually do. He takes your hand in his

“What’s wrong, you look upset” he was clearly worried but for whatever reason you didn’t speak up, but you tried to hint at it. 

“I’m fine just a.. little lonely at home is all..” you look at him with slightly hurt eyes.

“I’m sorry love, you know I’ve been busier lately, the crime rates have been rising meaning I have more work“ you weren’t exactly satisfied with the answer

“Shoto I-“

“Hey Shoto!“ the door bursts “Emergency down town with hostages!“ one of his coworkers made it sound urgent. Who were you to hold him back, this was his job after all. 

“I’m sorry love, we’ll talk later“ he quickly pecks your cheek and takes his leave. You sat there and and just looked out the window. Dating for 2 years now and everything was fine. He was a gentleman who always made your heart race. He treated you like the finest glass on Earth, the still loved you passionately.

“If you keep staring your eyeballs are gonna fall out“ your butt out of your thoughts and look to your left to find none other than Bakugou. Yes despite their rivalry, they work at the same company. 

“Oh..right..“ you said anything just to give an answer

“...what do you think so hard about anyway?“ and when it was weird for him to ask what was wrong. But you guess that talking to someone is better than no one listening.

“*sigh* well I don't know if you've noticed that Shoto has been spending a lot of time with little miss perfect. There's barely any time between us anymore, and it's like he doesn't even notice how I'm feeling about it.“

“Keh, are you jealous? “ he asked with a smirk, making your face become red.

“Wha- I’m- I didn’t I-“ you stumble over your words, as he continues to smirk at you. He already knew what you were feeling, but there was something else behind that smile.

“I’ll make you a deal,“ he said “I’ll help you get back with icy-hot but on my terms“

“...go on..“ he said quietly at this point willing to try anything.

“You’re going to make him jealous. Don’t ask why I'm helping you, I'm just looking for a way to piss this bastard off“ 

“..What do you exactly have in mind?“

“Flirting, hardcore. He’s honestly attached to you believe it or not, but if you really want him to see the point you're making we're going to have to do this.“ he write something down on a piece of paper and then hands it to you “I'll text you the rest after I get out of work make sure you respond”

you guess this is better than nothing, hopefully it wasn't something too much to feel like you were cheating.

~~~

“Are you sure this is going to work?“ you gave him a stern look 

“Believe me I’ve done this before and it works“

he asked you to wear Todoroki's favorite shirt on you, which was a low-cut shirt. He told you make sure to look your best, and to be prepared to get his attention

“And just how many times has his little plan of yours worked?“

“Hm, either they go back home together, or the chick goes back home with me“ he chuckled.....great. “Here he comes, get ready.“

Before you could even put yourself together, your body was slammed against the wall traffic between two muscular arms on each side of your head. Bakugo's cologne engulfing your nostrils, as his lean firm body towered above you. 

if anything this is already working, as you felt yourself get flustered under his gaze. 

“You’re lookin hot today Y/N“ he said in a husky tone

“Oh um- thank you, and you too Katsuki“ he made a short script for you to follow, and to use his first name.

You thought your boyfriend was paying attention, but he was listening to every word. He felt a fire go off inside of his chest as he felt rage growing. Was Bakugou really trying to hit on you right now?? He knew you wouldn’t take anything from any man so he let you handle the situation.

wrong.

“How about we ditch this place and had somewhere else have some...fun?“ you're starting to believe he was a little too into this. Just how badly did he want to piss off Todoroki? Looking over you see he was doing nothing and that just made the jealousy bubble inside you. 

“Hey Katsuki, you’ve got such big muscles, you must be so strong“ you said in a girly voice with a pout “can you show me how strong?~“ you said feeling up his bicep. At once he picked you up by your thighs and held you up.

“How’s that for ya?”

“It’s-“ you were yanked from his grip and into the arms of another.

“We’re leaving now. I’ll deal with you later” he said sharply as he carried you out of the office. Bakugou simply chuckled. He didn’t even struggle as he walked down into the parking lot. He opens the car and puts you into the passenger seat walks around and gets into the drivers.

He drove without a word, without a single glance at you. But you can see how he grabs the steering wheel. You can practically see him fuming, there will probably be a burn mark on the wheel by the end of the drive.

He pulls up into your driveway and stops but doesn’t get out. He turns to you with an irritated look

“Are you serious? If you wanted to end things you could have been an adult about it”

“Oh so you’re not going to ask what happened first?!” You fire back

“I already saw what did...and I thought you were better than that” you can see a hint of hurt in his eyes.

“I was jealous you know....” you mumbled

“Of what? That I’m not as muscular as Bakugou?” He said massaging the bridge of his nose

“No.....of your colleague...”you said quietly “..you’ve been with her so much lately and it seems like every chance we have together work gets in the way” he calms down and hears your out 

“And the way she’s always around you...it’s like...I feel replaced..“ your voice cracks near the end as our eyes fill with tears “I-I know...I’m not a hero and I know she’s probably better b-but I..I miss you and-“ he pulls you into his lap and embraces you tightly 

“I could never replace you with anyone else. I’m sorry if I’ve neglected you I just needed some time to um...well, *sigh* I didn’t want to do this way“ he reached over into the glove compartment and takes something out

 “I needed her help to find this.” he opens the box to show you what was inside “I wasn’t sure what ring would look best on you so I needed her help to pick one out. She also happens to have the same ring size as you“

“Shoto...“ you said in a weak voice as he takes your hand and slides the ring on 

“It’s a perfect fit, but that if you say-“

“Yes! Yes I will!“ you cut him off “I-I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions instead of asking..first..“ he pecks your lips

“I’m sorry too, I should have given you more attention, speaking of which“ he opens the door and stands with you bridal style “I definitely have better muscle build than Bakugou“ he smirked 

“Hehe that you do“

*******************************************************

I hope this was okay❤️

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Seven

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(Dialogue heavy part. Also, I plan to make a masterpost with a link in my description so all the parts are easy to find in one place, and I can keep adding to it.)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

Harry spent most of the day with you Sunday, and went back to his place a little before dinner time. You woke up early Monday so you could get your workout in at home, and showered. Feeling fresh, you were thankful you had plenty of slacks to wear for the week. You hated wearing skirts or dresses on your period. You couldn’t wait to see Niall to ask him about Sarah.

You stop at the coffee shop and grab yours and Niall’s coffees. You get up to your office, and go right to his. He’s just settling in, and smiles at you.

“Hey there, lady killer.” You said handing him his coffee.

“Shh.” He looks around and closes his door. “Did she tell you anything?”

“She said she had a great time with you. Have you texted or called?”

“We’ve texted. I could kill you for not setting me up sooner.”

“I could say the same thing to you about Harry.”

“Fine, we’re even.”

“Besides, she was in between guys, I didn’t even know she was available. She raved about you, so I hope you guys see where it goes.”

“I’m hoping to see her Tuesday after work for a movie.”

“Oh, nice.” You smile at your friend. “You know if it goes well, the four of us could go on double dates, how much fun would that be?”

“Not so much.” Your face falls.

“Why not? I feel like we never hang out anymore.”

“Well, you’ve been busy, which is perfectly fine. And, I don’t really like double dates with Harry. I feel like I have to compete with him or something.” He shrugs, sipping his coffee.

“Compete with what?”

“I don’t know, everyone finds him so charming.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now. Sarah may decide the only thing she likes about you is your tongue.” You tease. Niall nearly chokes on his hot drink.

“She, she told you?”

“Only a couple of details.” You lie, you didn’t want to embarrass him. “It was all good things though, she was very impressed.”

“I honestly have to thank Harry for help in that department.”

“So I’ve learned.” You say blushing.

“Hold on a second.” He sits down next to you in the chairs across from desk. “Did you two get a little frisky this weekend?”

“Maybe a little.” You play with the top of your coffee lid.

“How do you feel?”

“Safe.” You lock eyes with him. “I only let him do…that. I didn’t let him use his hands or anything.”

“What made you want to do it?”

“Honestly, I was curious.” You shrug. “And I was just feeling really close to him. He, um, asked me to be his girlfriend.” Niall jumps up with a huge smile on his face.

“That just made my whole morning!”

“You don’t think it’s too soon to be official?”

“Not at all, in fact, Harry hasn’t had an actual girlfriend in like two years. He really does like you, (y/n).” You can’t help but giggle at his praise. “You haven’t changed your relationship status.” He says checking Facebook.

“I honestly hadn’t thought of it since he doesn’t have a Facebook.” You say getting up. “I’ll ask him if he minds if I change it.”

“Why would he mind?”

“I don’t know, then it’ll like really be official. Everyone will know I’m seeing someone. I don’t know if I’m ready for my parents and siblings to be up my ass.”

“Fair point. Okay, I’ll tell you what, things go well with Sarah, and all four of us can hang out some time.”

“I would love that.”

You go to your office, and get some work done. Lunch rolls around quick. Before you can go meet Niall you see a name on your phone. It’s Kate.

“Hello?”

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Um, what’s up?”

“Nothing, just saw the pictures Rachel posted of the three of you. Thanks for the invite.”

“You wouldn’t have come anyways.”

“So, it’s still nice to be included.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one who made the plans, so take it up with them.”

“You’re my best friend, you should’ve texted me.”

“Kate, I’m at work.”

“You’re on your lunch break.” There’s an awkward pause. “Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone new?”

“Because it’s still really new.”

“Still, I hate hearing things from other people about you.”

“Who told you?”

“Rachel. She said some guy showed up to the club, and his friend took Sarah home or something. Apparently he’s super-hot.”

“You’ve met Niall before. Remember? He came with me to your wedding?”

“No, I mean the guy you brought.”

“His name is Harry.”

“Harry what?”

“Don’t bother looking him up, he doesn’t have a Facebook, and his Instagram doesn’t have any pictures of him.”

“Great, so you’re seeing a serial killer.”

“You could be happy for me. He’s really into me.”

“I just think you need to be more cautious.”

“I am. We haven’t done anything…serious.”

“Define serious.”

“I don’t owe you any explanations.” Usually, you and your friends were very open about sex, but lately it was hard to talk to Kate about these things.

“(y/n), you were practically ra-“ You cut her off before she could finish the word.

“Stop it! Harry is nothing like Jake!” Niall walks into your office horrified. You wave him in, and put your finger up to signal you’re almost done. “Kate, I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“Fine. Look, Kevin and I are spending the weekend in the city, and we were wondering if you’d wanna hang out. Maybe the four of us can do a double date.”

“You know, it would be nice if just us girls could get together. You never come here alone.”

“You know how Kev is.”

“Possessive, controlling.”

“Enough. Do you want to see each other or not?”

“Of course I do. I’ll see what Harry’s up to. When did you want to get together?”

“Friday night? Dinner at our spot?”

“Alright, I’ll text you later, I need to go eat.” You hang up in a huff and nearly throw your phone across the room, but you stop yourself. You look at Niall.

“Was that Kate?”

“Yeah! God, she is so fucking infuriating. She has no problem making me feel bad about my past, but the second I call her out on something.” You try to steady tour breathing. “And now I have to see her this weekend.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I miss her, Niall. She used to be so much fun.”

“Well, if you bring Harry, just be prepared, he’s not going to let someone speak to you like that.”

“Great, dinner and a show.”

You show up to Harry’s after the gym. You drive there sort of on autopilot. You let him know you’re outside, and he buzzes you in. You have an open sweatshirt on over a sports bra. Your hair is up in a messy bun, and you’re wearing cropped leggings. You only went to lift weights since you got your cardio in this morning.

“This is a nice surprise.” He says kissing you on the cheek. He makes you stand in front of him to get a good look at you. “Sexy outfit.” Your cheeks flush. “Want something to eat? I was just making dinner.”

“I don’t want to impose, love.”

“S’not an imposition.” He smiles. “ I always make extra.” You walk over to the stove to see what he’s making. “Nothing special, just roasted chickpeas to top my salad.”

“It smells delicious. I’ll have a little.”

“Good, go sit.” He makes a plate for you, and sits down at the table with you. “So, what do I owe this honor on a school night?” You giggle.

“Well, I got a call from my friend Kate today.”

“The one you miss who’s married?”

“Correct.” He nods. “Her and Kevin, her husband, are coming into town this weekend, and she wanted to know if we’d have dinner with them.”

“We huh?”

“Mhm.”

“I didn’t even have a chance to tell her about you. Rachel told her I was seeing someone.”

“What night?”

“Friday.” He takes out his phone and checks his calendar. “Um, yeah that works. I have to work late that night, so if they’re okay with an eight o’clock dinner…”

“That would work well I think. I’m sure they’ll hit traffic. The place we’re going is kind of swanky, so you may want to bring a change of dress clothes with you to work.”

“Alright.”

“Is this okay with you? If you don’t feel comfortable-“ He puts a hand over yours.

“I would love nothing more than to meet more of your friends. Plus, she seems important to you.” He shrugs.

“I have another question?”

“Shoot.”

“So, we’re together.”

“Correct.”

“And typically, when two people make things official, it’s customary for them to change their status online, to let others know they are no longer available.”

“Are you asking me if it’s okay to change your Facebook status?” You smile nervously and he starts laughing. “Go ahead, baby. I mean, s’not like you can tag me in it, so it’ll just say you’re in a relationship.”

“I know, it seems silly. But now that Kate knows, and Sarah and Rachel…I mean, god I haven’t even told my mom.” He furrows his eyebrows at you.

“So wait to change then.” He takes his phone out. He goes into Instagram, and you get a ping on your phone. “style2294 has requested to follow you?” You smile at him.

“That’s my private Instagram. Told ya it wasn’t really under my name.”

“Very cryptic that you left it as style and not styles. Is that your birthday?” You ask, accepting the request, and follow him back. He accepts.

“Yup.”

“That’s around my half birthday.”

“Wait, don’t tell me.” He thinks for a moment. “August?”

“Bingo.”

“What’s the date?”

“The fourth, ’95.”

“So you like just turned twenty-four only a couple months ago. You young thing.” He teases.

“Oh stop, you’re literally a year and half older than me.” You go to scroll through his pictures, but he stops you.

“Wait to do that until we’re not together, please, some of those pictures are old, and embarrassing.”

“Alright.” You stop to think about your own photos. “I have some embarrassing ones too.”

“I’ll bet.”

“So, Friday, you’re sure?”

“Positive.” He takes both of your empty plates and places them in the sink. “Now then, come here so I can kiss ya.”

You go over to him, and he holds you in his arms, and kisses your cheecks, nose, forehead, and jawline. His hands move down to your bum, and you jump back with a squeak.

“Still got my period.” He gives you a funny look.

“So that means I can’t squeeze that glorious-“ You put your hand over his mouth.

“Please, I’m begging, don’t finish that sentence.” You say looking up at him with big eyes. He smirks at you. “What?”

“Lil horny are we?”

“Harry!”

“You are, aren’t you?”

“It’s not funny!”

“I’m not laughing!”

“Your smile says it all.” You cross your arms over your tender breasts. “It’s the hormones.”

“Sure it is. How were your cramps today?”

“Much better. What you saw yesterday was an anomaly.” You look down at your watch. “I should probably head home now.”

“I’m going to be really busy this week. With the weather still nice, and the leaves just turning, I’ve racked up some freelance stuff. I don’t want you to think I’m ignorin’ ya or anything.” You give me a hug and rest your head on his chest.

“Thank you for letting me know.” You kiss him on the cheek. As you’re about to break the hug he pulls you in, and kisses you on the mouth.

“Didn’t think I’d let ya leave with just a peck on the cheek?”

“What was I thinking?” You kiss him again. “Thanks for dinner.” You say on your way out.

Your period ends Thursday, thank god. Kate texts you saying that eight is perfectly fine for dinner Friday. You and Niall find yourself chatting before you leave for work Friday.

“You never told me how the movie with Sarah went.”

“We never made it to the movie.” He winks at you.

“You dirty dog.” You tease.

“So, tonight is your big double date?”

“Yup, I gotta go home and change.”

“Where are you guys going again? That Italian place?”

“Yeah, it’s really nice. Kate and I used to save up our money once a month to go there when we were in college.”

“Well, I hope it all goes smoothly. I know Harry will be there, but if you need anything, I’m there for you.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that. I’m seeing Sarah and Rachel with Kate and Kevin tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Sarah told me. I’m seeing her tonight.”

“Dirty, dirty dog.”

You go home, and freshen up. You pull out a red dress. It has a high neckline, but hugs tight around your thighs, accentuating your bum. You know Harry will love it, and Kate won’t be able to say anything because your chest is covered. The back is open, so you opt to not wear a bra. Instead you just tape yourself up. The material is thick enough that you can’t see your piercings through it. You curl your hair and brush it out to create your waves. You put on some red strappy heels, and uber to the restaurant. You want to be able to leave with Harry in his car later.

Kate and Kevin are standing in the lobby of the restaurant, it’s ten of eight. You two smile at each other and take each other in for a big hug. You give Kevin a much smaller embrace.

“You look amazing!” Kate beams at you. “That gym membership is doing wonders for you.”

“The best part is my company pays for it. I think laying off the meat has helped too. I mostly am forced to eat fruit and veggies.” You hear Kevin scoff.

“I still can’t believe you’re a vegetarian. It’s like you crossed over to the darkside.” You flip him off, and he rolls his eyes.

“Harry’s a vegan, and I don’t want you making fun of him.”

“What the hell is he supposed to eat here then?”

“He’ll get some gluten free pasta and a salad or something.” You shrug.

“Where is he anyways?” Kate asks.

“It’s only eight now. He said he might run late, he had a really busy work week.”

“What does he do?” Kevin asks.

“He’s a photographer, a highly sought after one at that.” The two look at each other. “He works for a magazine, and does some freelancing on the side.” You take your phone out to show them his professional Instagram.

“Wow, these are actually really good.” Kate says.

“Don’t sound so surprised. Niall wouldn’t have set me up with some idiot.”

“Oh, you two met on a blind date?” Kevin asks. “Kate didn’t tell me the story.”

“That’s because she didn’t tell me the story.”

“Well, you can both hear it soon, when he gets here.”

“I hope it is soon, I don’t want them to give our table up.” Kate says harshly.

You feel a gust of wind, and turn around. Suddenly everything feels like slow motion. Harry walks in with damp hair, accentuating his natural curls. He’s wearing a light blue suit and a white dress shirt. He has brown dress shoes on. He looks heavenly.

“That’s him.” You say to Kate before walking over to greet him. He takes you in his arms, and kisses the top of your head.

“So sorry I’m wait, love, I had to have a shower. I was rolling in dirt all day.” He looks over at Kate and Kevin whose mouths are hanging open. “Hi, I’m Harry.” He sticks his hand out and they each take a turn shaking it. They both furrow their brows at his nails. He must have gotten them done this week because they were now a pastel pink and blue. His forefinger and middle finger were both pink on one hand and the rest blue. The opposite hand had the same, but opposite. He notices them notice. “Right, shall we?”

You all go to the hostess, and she seats you. Harry pulls your chair out for you, and helps you in. He takes his suit jacket off, and puts it over the chair. Kevin and Kate just sit down. You put your hand on Harry’s leg and give him a gentle squeeze.

“It’s great to meet you, Harry.” Kate finally says.

“Likewise.” A waiter comes over before anything else can be said.

“Hi folks, I’m Matt, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you all off with a drink?”

“Vodka tonic for me please.” You say.

“Lime?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll have a glass of pinot noir.” Kate says. You frown for a second. She’s drinking, which means she’s still not pregnant.

“I’ll have a corona.” Kevin says.

“I’ll, um, have a gin and tonic.” Harry says.

“Perfect, be back with those in a few.”

Harry squints at the menu trying to see what he can actually eat. Another server brings over some bread and butter, and fills the water glasses. Harry leans into you.

“You look lovely, by the way.” You giggle.

“Thank you.”

“What are you going to eat?”

“Not sure yet. Maybe some ravioli?”

“So, Harry, (y/n), tells us you’re a vegan?” Kevin asks.

“Um, yeah.”

“If we had known we could have gone somewhere else.” Kate says, trying to make you look bad.

“It’s really no problem. There’s actually a lot I can have. They have zucchini noodles it seems. I’ll probably have that.”

“Don’t you feel hungry all the time without the protein?” Kevin asks.

“Not really, I eat a lot of nuts and beans.”

The waiter comes over with the drinks. He notices Harry’s nails.

“Oh, sir, I don’t mean to sound weird, but I love your nails.”

“Oh, thanks mate.” Harry smiles up at the young boy.

“So, um, did we have a chance to look over the menu?” Everyone nods. “Great, miss?” He nods to you.

“Can I please have the cheese ravioli, and can I have a side of whatever today’s vegetable is?”

“Of course. Sir?”

“I’ll have these zoodles with the roasted vegetables on top. No sauce, please.”

Kevin orders steak tips of course, which nearly makes you gag. Kate orders the raviolis as well. The two of them dig into the bread, and you also have a piece.

“Since the waiter brought it up, can I ask why you paint your nails?” Kevin asks. You want to kick him under the table, but glare at him instead.

“Just something I do for fun.” Harry shrugs. “I’m sure as an oral surgeon, you’re probably not allowed to have yours painted.”

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t. It’s a little girly.”

“Kevin.” You say, warning.

“S’alright.” Harry says. “I know it looks a little weird. But, I don’t necessarily think it’s girly. I like having clean nails. Why should women be the only people allowed to have a manicure?” He sips his drink.

“You can get a manicure without getting your nails painted.” Kate interjects.

“What’s the fun in that?” Kate looks down at his hands.

“The rings are nice.” She says.

“Thanks.”

“Is that an anchor on your wrist?” Kevin asks.

“Yup.” Harry rolls his sleeve a bit so they can better see it. “Can’t remember when exactly I got it, but it was a while ago.” Kate sees the cross on his hand.

“(y/n) is Jewish, you know?” Harry raises an eyebrow at her, then looks at you. “We all are, that’s how we became friends at school.”

“I didn’t know that.” He says looking at you, and smiles. “Guess the mezuzah in your front hall makes more sense now.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“It didn’t come up, Kate.”

“Alright, so, how exactly did you two meet?” Kevin interjects.

“We have a mutual friend that set us up.” Harry rests a hand on your thigh.

“Niall, right?” Kate asks. “He came to our wedding with (y/n).”

“Yup, Niall. He and I were mates in school, and he works with (y/n), obviously.”

“What did you do for a first date?” Kevin asks.

“We went to dinner at that tapas place.” You say, smiling at the memory. “And then after that we just kept seeing each other.” You lean close to him.

The food runner brings all of your plates over. You stare at the steak tips. They smell heavenly, but as soon as you see the juices drip down Kevin’s knife, you find yourself standing up.

“You alright?” Harry asks, slightly standing.

“Yeah, just, um, excuse me, I need to use the ladies room.”

“I’ll go with you.” Kate says standing up.

You two rush to the bathroom, and you splash a little cold water on your face.

“What’s wrong?” She rubs your now clammy back.

“Nothing, I thought I was going to puke. He had to order steak tips?”

“I thought you weren’t an ethical vegetarian.”

“I’m not, Kate, but jesus, I can’t help being absolutely disgusted.”

“Is this because Jake ate steak on your first date? Is it triggering?”

“No! You mentioning his fucking name is triggering.” You turn to face her. “You both could also stop grilling Harry so much. He’s really sweet and you both are judging him. Nail polish on men is becoming more and more popular, it’s really not that fucking weird.” She sighs.

“You’re right, we’ve been rude. I’ll settle down a little. Just please come back and try not to look at his food.”

While you both are in the bathroom, Harry and Kevin wait to eat.

“I hope she’s alright.” Harry keeps his eyes locked on the direction you ran in.

“She’s fine. So, how long have you two been seeing each other?”

“It’s been a month this weekend, actually.”

“I think that’s the longest she’s ever seen someone.” He laughs. “She was pretty wild in college.”

“Who wasn’t?” Harry shrugs off the statement, taking a sip of his drink. He sighs in relief when he sees you walking back to the table, and stands up. Kevin stays seated. “Alright?” He says sitting back down as you do.

“Yeah, just needed to powder my nose.” You keep your eyes locked on your food. Everyone digs in to their own.

“(y/n), I was thinking we could all go back to your place tonight after dinner.” Kate says. “That way we can keep getting to know each other.” She says with a smile.

“Um, sure, we could do that.” You look up at Harry who is giving Kate a funny look. “Does that work for you?”

“Sure does.” He smiles at you.

The waiter comes over and asks if anyone wants dessert, you all say no, and he leaves the check. Harry and Kevin reach for it at the same time.

“Your money’s no good here.” Kevin says. “We asked you both here.” You guess all men have this rule.

“I insist, at least let me split it with you.”

“Sure, we can split it.” They each put their credit cards in, and the wait come by and grabs it. He brings it back in no time, they both sign the slips. Harry leaves some extra cash on the table.

“Where’d you park, love?” He asks putting his jacket on.

“Oh, I didn’t drive here, I took an uber. I figured I’d just leave with you.” You shrug. He smiles and kisses you on the cheek. “Right, so we’ll just meet you guys at her place?”

“Sounds good, see you soon.” Kate says.

You and Harry don’t say much on the car ride to your place. Once you’re inside, you quickly tidy up. He sighs.

“What?” You ask, as you run around.

“Kinda rude to invite herself here, don’t you think?”

“That’s Kate.” You pull up a playlist on your Spotify, and connect it to your Bluetooth. “It’s a late 2000s playlist, should help lighten the mood.” You say, taking your heels off. “They won’t stay long anyways.”

“Kevin is, interesting.”

“He used to be more fun too.”

“He mentioned you used to be wild.” Harry puts his hands on your waist. His touch burns into you. “This is a really nice dress.”

“Thank you, and he’s just talking smack. I did used to party probably a little too much. But who doesn’t when they’re in college?”

“That’s what I said.” The buzzer goes off, and you buzz them in.

“Harry, could you open that bottle of wine for me please?” You ask pointing to the one in the kitchen, as you go to open the door.

“I love what you’ve done with the place.” Kate beams at you. “You really should be an interior decorator.”

“Oh stop, you know my Nannie picked everything out.”

“Nannie?” Harry asks.

“My grandmother, I call her Nannie.” You say giving him a peck on the cheek. “You guys want some wine?” You take out four glasses.

“Yes, please.” Kate says. You pour the wine into the glasses.

Kate and Kevin sit on the couch. Harry sits in the large chair adjacent to the couch, and you sit on the arm rest of the chair. He takes his arm, and moves you to sit on his lap. You giggle, and make yourself comfortable.

“So, how did you all meet?” Harry asks.

“Oh god, well (y/n) and I met at an activities fair. We both were looking for a film club.” Kate says. “I think you and Rachel were roommates freshman year right?”

“Yup. Then we met Sarah at that Jewish students meeting, that school had a club for everything. You and I roomed together sophomore year.”

“Awe that was such a good year. Then the four of us lived together our last two years. We met Kev our junior year.”

“And when did you two start dating?”

“Mid-way through our senior year.” She squeezes his hand. Kevin smiles at Kate.

“Yup, and then I stole her away.”

“That’s an understatement.” You say, sipping your wine.

“Excuse me?” Kevin says.

“Nothing, we just barely saw Kate after. You two stopped hanging out with us.” You shrug.

“We were busy.” Kevin says with a smirk.

“Kev, please, don’t flatter yourself.” Kate says, teasing. “You know we had a lot of classes together second semester, we were studying together a lot.”

“You practically moved out of our apartment.” Harry taps his hand on your thigh to the beat of the song playing, and you lean back further into him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice, with how little you slept there.” You shoot daggers at her. “And at least I was staying with the same person every night, not just throwing it around for anyone who would take it.” She takes a large sip of her wine.

“That’s because you got all of that out of your system your freshman year, remember?”

“I do remember, I remember you saying how jealous you were of me.”

“Little did I know there wasn’t much to be jealous of. You’re still bitter that Eric stopped seeing you because he wanted to see me.” You take an even bigger sip of your wine.

“Really? You’re bringing up Eric?”

“You started it.”

“Well, at least I never got an STD!” You stand up and so does Kate. The guys just look at the two of you.

“Kate! For the last time, I did not get scabies from sleeping with someone!”

“Oh no? Then you how else do you get scabies?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t sleep with any dirty guys.”

“Are you sure? Sophomore year you fucked anything with a dick! And you wanna know why we stopped hanging out with the three of you that last year? I told Kev how you felt about him, and he didn’t want to be around you anymore.”

“How I felt about him?” You point at Kevin. “I didn’t have feelings for Kevin, fuck Kevin.”

“Yes you did, you told Sarah that you wanted to fuck him, and you knew I liked him!”

“Well good fucking thing you married him, Kate! And I never told Sarah that, I never wanted to fuck your fucking boyfriend.”

“Then why would she have told me you did?”

“She was probably talking about Kevin from the track team. Did she tell you when she was drunk? She probably got confused. And just like always, instead of you just talking to me about an issue, you let it blow up for no fucking reason.”

“What do you mean like always?”

“You always make mountains out of mole hills, and you always think you know better than everyone else. Guess what, just because you’re married doesn’t make you any better than me.”

“There it is, you’re jealous that I’m living the life that you want.”

“What is there to be jealous of? You never have any fun, Kevin never fucking lets you go out!”

“Stop it.”

“You’re afraid of him, right? You’re afraid he’ll leave you? Personally, I think you could’ve done a lot better than him, but you needed the security right? You’re lonely, and you get mad at us for actually having lives. I didn’t tell you to run off with him, and buy a big fucking house. No one had a gun to your head, you made your choices.”

“Would you shut up!? You’re making me sound like I’m this idiot that can’t make a life for myself. Kevin and I love each other, and you’re just jealous of that because you can’t stand to see a married couple happy.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Ever since your parents separated you haven’t been able to stand the thought of marriage! I think you’re mad at yourself, you’re a slut, just like your mom!” You’re about to raise your hand to Kate, but Harry grabs your wrist.

“Alright”, he turns the music off. “I think that’s about enough of that.”

“Who are you?” She says to him.

“Kate, he’s right, you went too far.” Kevin says standing up.

“I won’t sit here and listen to you talk to my girlfriend like that.”

“Girlfriend? You two just started seeing each other!” She looks at you. “You said you were going to take it slow this time.”

“I did, we are!”

“Then how is he already your boyfriend, Jesus Christ, you are so fucking stupid! You trust people way too easily.” She shakes her head at you. Your blood is boiling, and you go to lunge at her, but Harry wraps his arms around you and holds you back. “Go ahead, let her hit me, it’s what she wants.”

“I think it’s time for you both to leave.” Harry says, still holding onto your shaking body. You steady your breathing, and tap his hands.

“You know something Kate, I know what you’re really mad about.” You smirk.

“What’s that?”

“You’re not actually angry with me, you’re angry at the fact that you married a guy that hasn’t been able to make you orgasm since you met.”

“Woah, what?” Kevin interjects. Kate’s mouth falls open.

“Speechless? That’s a first.”

You don’t register what’s happening until you feel Kate’s hand connect with your cheek. Harry steps in front of you.

“You need to get the fuck out now.” He says to her with dark eyes. You’re holding you’re stinging cheek.

“Have fun with your fru fru boyfriend, and his photos and his painted nails. Let’s see how long this one lasts.”

You don’t say anything, Harry follows them out. He comes back to you, tears streaming down your cheeks. You can barely breathe, your mascara starts to sting your eyes, and you can feel your cheek swelling. Harry crosses the room, he goes to touch you, but you flinch away from him.

“I’m so sorry all that happened. I should have interjected sooner, but it just seemed like you two needed to get something out.”

“It’s not your fault.” You say with a crack in your voice. “She’s just a bitch, and I should have stopped talking to her a long fucking time ago.” You press your fingers slowly to your cheek. “Fuck.”

“Let me get you some ice, go sit on the couch.” You do as he says. He pulls some ice out of your freezer and puts it in a baggy, then wraps it in a towel. He sits next you, and lightly dabs your face.

“Thanks.” You sniffle.

“She’s not worth your tears, love.” He takes his thumb and wipes just under your good eye. You lean into his touch.

“Baby?”

“Mm?”

“Will you please take me to bed?” He smiles and nods.

He scoops you up in his arms, and carries you to your room. He gently sets you down on the bed. He goes over to your bureau, and pulls out a t-shirt and shorts for you.

“I’m just gonna go down to my car. I, uh, packed an overnight bag just in case.” You nod.

You go into the bathroom, and wash your face, your cheek is still sore, but it shouldn’t leave a mark. You didn’t want anyone thinking Harry hit you. You change, and grab your phone. You sit down at your desk, and you call Rachel, knowing Sarah is with Niall.

“Hey girl.” She says to you.

“Kate fucking slapped me.”

“What?!”

“That bitch fucking slapped me!” Harry walks into your room, and starts to change in front of you. You can’t help but watch while you talk to your friend.

“Why? What happened?”

“She started a fight with me…I know I added fuel the fire, but she called myself and my mom a whore, so I blurted out that Kevin can’t fuck her right, and she slapped me.”

“Jesus, and she did this in front of Harry?”

“Of course she did!”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it just stings a little, she slapped me with one of her rings on.”

“Well, you know how she likes it rough.” You and Rachel burst out laughing.

“Oh yeah, she a freak.” You stifle your laughter, as Harry gives you a very confused look. He looks heavenly in his grey sweat pants.

“So, I’m assuming we’re not all hanging out tomorrow?”

“I’m not seeing her again.”

“Alright, maybe Sarah and I could come by to see you then. You know Kate is going to twist this whole thing around. I’m glad you called to tell me first.”

“Me too. It’s sad how much she’s changed.”

“I think if she just left Kevin she would be so much happier. They’re not a good match.”

“We tried to tell her, Rach.”

“But mother knows best.” Rachel groans. “Is Harry still with you?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright, then go be with your man. I’ll text you tomorrow to see when we should come by. Probably in the afternoon. Sarah is with your friend again tonight.”

“Oh, I know. And sounds good, talk to you tomorrow.” You hang up the phone, and look at the man sitting at the edge of the bed.

“What was so funny?”

“Nothing, Rachel just reminded me of something that Kate likes.” You shrug.  You stand up and walk over to him until you’re standing between his legs.

“Do you wanna just go to bed? I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“Yeah, would you cuddle me?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

You both get cozy under the covers, and he spoons you nice and close to him. You wiggle your bum against him a couple of time, and he adjusts himself.

“If you keep moving against me like that, we’re going to have a problem.” He says into your ear. He starts laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, I just can’t believe she slapped you.” You start laughing with him.

“She’s an idiot.” He hugs you closer to him, and nestles in your hair. You both slowly drift off into sleep.

Early that morning, you hear your name being called by a familiar voice. Harry jolts awake and you look at each other.

“How many friends of yours have a key to this apartment?” He asks getting up.

“Too many.” You hide under the covers. “Make her go away.” He gets up, and leaves the room.

Kate looks much different from last night. She’s in sweats, her hair in a messy bun, and no makeup. She looks up at Harry. Her eyes are swollen and red, probably from crying. He crosses his arms when he looks back at her.

“I really don’t think she wants to see you.”

“I just need to talk with her privately. I need to apologize, I can’t lose her.”

“Seems like you lost her a long time ago.” She sighs and stands up. She starts to walk to toward your room, but he stands in her way.

“Move.”

“No.”

“You don’t get to decide who she speaks to.”

“You’re right, but she did ask me to make you leave. And you should probably leave that key on the counter on your way out.” Kate brushes past Harry, and she bursts into your room. She closes the door quickly behind him and she locks it.

“Harry!”

“She locked the door!” He yells. You get out of bed, and stand with your arms crossed.

“I have some explaining to do. I acted like a psycho last night.” You roll your eyes at her. “I suppose I was just taking all of my frustrations out on you.”

“Like you always do. I can’t be your punching bag.”

“I know that. I’m so sorry. Kevin and I stopped trying to get pregnant, and I haven’t wanted him to touch me. I may have lied about him not being okay with me coming to visit you guys.”

“What do you mean?” You both sit on the bed.

“Well, I made it all up. The truth was, it hurt to hang out. I was jealous of your lives. My parents pressured me into staying with him, and I stupidly listened. I love him, I do, but there’s no passion. Not like there was. We’re, um, going to separate for a while.” She chokes back a few tears. “I don’t expect you to feel bad for me, because honestly I deserve everything bad that has happened to me.”

“You don’t deserve to be unhappy, Kate.”

“Yes, I do. I’ve been having an affair for the last month. I told Kevin last night.”

“Oh my god, with who?”

“One of his colleagues.” She says looking down. “I was always attracted to him, and one night we met up and just fucked, all night. It was incredible. He, um, likes the same things that I do.” Her cheeks grow red.

“Where are you gonna go?”

“Kev’s gonna sublet an apartment closer to the hospital so I can stay in the house. At least until we figure everything out. We’re probably going to get divorced.”

“What did he say when you told him about the affair?”

“Well, he asked why I would do that. And he asked how he could better satisfy me, and I told him what I was into, and he said he just didn’t feel comfortable with it, and I told him I knew that. He knows it was just a sex thing. We’re both still so young, and we don’t want to waste anymore of each other’s time.”

“What will you do?”

“Well, I’m almost done with my master’s degree, and once I have that I’ll start making more money so I’ll be able to move out. He said once I’m a month into my raise we’ll put the house on the market.”

“You figured all of this out last night?”

“Yeah, we were up all night talking. God, my parents are going to be pissed.”

“It’s not their life, Kate.”

“I know. Listen, I am so sorry I said that stuff about your mom, I never should have gone there.”

“I’m not going to say it’s okay, because it’s not.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to move on from this?”

“You assaulted me.”

“I really shouldn’t drink anymore. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to need some time. I know I said some hurtful things to you too.”

“I told Rachel and Sarah what happened in a group text.”

“I called Rachel last night.”

“I cancelled our plans today. Kev is waiting in the car downstairs, I just wanted the chance to explain.”

“I appreciate you being honest.” You reach out and hug her. “I need some time to cool down from all this.”

“Okay.” She breaks your hug and stands up. “When will we talk next?”

“When I feel ready, I’ll call.” She nods. “Kate, I still care a lot about you, and I want to be there for you. But…”

“I made this mess, it’s time I cleaned it up.” She opens the door. Harry is leaning against the hall closet. “Thanks warden.” She says to him. She looks back at you, and then to him. “Treat her right, she’s special.” Kate leaves the apartment, and leaves the key on the counter like Harry said. Harry sits on the bed next to you.

“Good talk?”

“Sort of. Her and Kevin are going to separate. She’s been having an affair with another doctor for over a month.”

“I heard a little, why exactly did she stray from Kevin?”

“Kate, how do I put this, she likes to be a little rough when she has sex.”

“She likes to be rough, or she likes when someone is rough with her?”

“The second one. We all know about it, and promised not to say anything. At first she said she was just into like being tied up, you know little fantasies, but she’s into some really dark shit. Not to kink shame.” You say in defense. “People like what they like.”

“Define dark shit.”

“God, don’t make me say it.” You say a little embarrassed.

“What is it, a daddy kink?”

“Yeah, but like it’s more than that. She likes when a guy is like really dominant, like scary dominant. Like one time she came back from hooking up with this guy, and she showed us her butt and it was beat red, like it left this giant bruise. I guess he spanked her like ten times in a row or something. And then she told us that he like choked her and would spit in her mouth.” It sends a shiver up your spine. “Gross.”

“And Kevin wasn’t willing to do any of that with her?”

“Not really. He was scared of hurting her, which I completely understand. Ugh, this whole conversation has turned my stomach. Could you imagine spitting your own come into someone’s mouth?”

“Wait what?” He bursts out laughing.

“Some guy came inside of her, went down on her, licked it up, and spit it into her mouth and made her swallow it.”

“And she liked that?”

“Loved it!” You start laughing. “I really shouldn’t laugh, it’s not her fault she’s into that sorta thing. She just discovered it.”

“At first I thought you were just grossed out at like regular spitting, but I can see how that would gross you out. Even I wouldn’t do that.”

“What are you saying exactly?”

“Regular spit isn’t gross, you’re already swapping spit as it is.” He shrugs. You put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m only going to say this once. Please, do not ever spit into my mouth.” He chuckles.

“You got it.” Your phone starts to buzz, it’s Sarah.

“(y/n), are you okay????”

“Yeah, Sarah, I’m fine.”

“I felt so bad, Rachel told me everything and I didn’t get Kate’s texts until a little while ago. Do you want us to come over?”

“No, I think I’d like to just hang out with Harry today. I’ve had my fill of girl time, but I’ll check in with you guys tomorrow.”

“Alright, sweetie. Talk soon.” You hang up, and fling your back on the bed and groan.

“I just want to turn my brain off!” You look at him, he’s smiling at you. “What?”

“You wanna spend the day with Harry huh?”

“Sorry, do you have other things you need to do?” You say apologetically.

“Nope, I just thought it was sweet.” He climbs on top of you, and you wrap your legs around him. “Let me distract you for a little while.” He says into your neck, and he starts to kiss you slowly.

“I really should take a shower.” He sighs, and gets off of you. You get up, and look at him confused. “Well?”

“Well what?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you going to join me?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I wanna be close with you.”

“You realize I’ll be naked, and you haven’t seen me yet.”

“But I’ve felt you. And who says I would even look?” You say playfully. “C’mon, come shower with me.”

He doesn’t hesitate, and gets up, following you into the bathroom.

[2bored2care]

Noona || Ateez

↳ About — After months without seeing each other, you and Ateez decide to have a fun night out in a hip nightclub in Hongdae. A sudden argument cuts your celebrations short, but a late night visit promises to get your mood up again.

↳ Pairing — ? x reader

↳ Genre — idol!ateez, producer!reader, friends to lovers, smut, fluff, slight angst, noona!reader

↳ Word count — 16k+

↳ Rating — M/+18

↳ Warnings — None, but it's mature content. Be aware that the main character is older than the boys. Secret pairing (revealed during the story!)

↳ Cross-post — AO3

Author’s Note: this originally had an OC, but I changed it to be reader insert. Still, there are some descriptions of the main character. Wasn't proofread. Might have a continuation but works just fine as a oneshot! This was my first time writing mature content (and my first writing piece in god knows how long) so bear with me hehe Any feedback is always appreaciated!

       Some days are easier than others. Today was definitely on the bad side, that's why a night out with friends seemed like the best idea to cool off. After countless stressful meetings at work, including passionate discussions with coworkers and complications with important clients, you couldn't wait to get home, take a nice shower and spend a few hours invested in a hot look for the night.

      You see, it's not every night that your eight best friends are available for some fun, much less including a nice pajama party with lots of wine, soju and bad TV shows. There's good and bad in being friends with an idol group, although the bad likes to manifest more often than not. Ateez's maknae didn't exactly celebrate his definite passage to adulthood properly - that is, didn't get wasted like there's no tomorrow and make bad decisions at some stinky club at the hip side of town - thanks to their schedule, so imagine your surprise when you received a very excited call during your shitty afternoon.

      Jongho had called you to make sure you had no plans for the night and share interesting news: they had the weekend off and a nice VIP section in one of the best spots in Hongdae. Lots of free drinks, good music and, the best of all, no curfew. That, of course, came with one small price, that only seemed good to you in the end. All eight boys needed to sleep over yours. Something common when you had late nights, since some crazy fans - better yet, sasaengs - loved camping at their dorm door, and news of all of them coming home stupidly drunk at who knows what hours was terrible publicity. 

      That call came at the best time possible; a way to brighten your cloudy day. After talking to him and the loud boys screaming at the back, your little free time during the day was spent planning your outfit, makeup and hair. Everyone needs some me-time at times. You definitely needed it today, no doubt. That's why you decided to clock out a little earlier and ran home as soon as you could. The boys were excited, but not nearly as excited as you. It felt like years since you all had enough time to actually share a conversation - their overseas tour left you a little needy and missing them a bit too much.

      Living in South Korea and working with entertainment left you with very little friends, and ever since you started getting close to the idol group, that list got even smaller. Imagine the horror if the world knew any of them was hanging around with a woman - a foreigner, no less! If their fans knew they ever slept at your house, all hell would be loose. But you wouldn't change it for the world, no matter how many times the boys apologized or needed to cancel on you. You loved them all too much nonetheless, always a soft heart, even with your permanent resting bitch face.

      Only a few people in your life knew of such friendship, including your closest friends back at home. They were huge fans of the group, but would never tell a soul of your closeness. That's why the boys were fond of them, they knew they would be there for you, always. Although they never met, the plan was still there! You intended to visit home when the boys would perform in your home country, so to make sure the crazy encounter would happen - your friends might've forced you to pinky-promise to introduce them, not that you'd hold it against them anyway.

      After months without being able to see the group, you decided to go all the way with your look for the night. It was a special occasion, after all! Heading home, you had a close idea of what you were shooting for, knowing that you'd need to let loose soon or you'd burst. 

      Even if some would think being around such handsome men would be bad for your already fucked up self esteem, their effect was the opposite. They made you feel alive and noticed. No matter where you were, you were sure that you were accompanied by the hottest guys in the room. And, even in a platonic way, you knew you were the one they were spending the whole night with. Not just that, but it gave you a nice excuse to get dressed up properly, since you had to measure up! 

      All you could think about was the beautiful - and sinful - little dress you'd bought weeks prior. The velvet piece caught your attention while you were walking in a busy street. You weren't one to buy dresses, that's for sure, but you were also looking for a change and that dress meant just that. With the burgundy piece in mind, you started to finish planning your look while riding the subway home. The club wasn't far from your apartment complex - Seul was a small city compared to your not-so-missed hometown - so you had more than enough time to get your game face on. 

      At home, you rushed to take a well-deserved hot shower, getting your hair a little humid so you could model it however you wanted. The long locks fell over your shoulder to your waist, a mix of platinum blond, gray and dark pink. You had just changed it - something common for you - and were happy it looked as good as you hoped when you did it late at night last Saturday. With some mood making music on, you were ready to get started.

      You curled your hair in a 50's fashion, one of your favorite looks, and pushed it back to get your makeup done. Always a sucker for autumn colors, you did your eyes with a smoky brownish red and orange palette, finishing it with a long cat-eye, your trademark. You did your skin next, making sure to put some rose-colored blush on your cheeks, as if you maybe had a drink or two before leaving. Some highlighter to finish it nicely, and a gradient for your lips. Dark red on the inside, blending with a light brown nude matte lipstick you loved wearing. 24 hours effect, of course. You planned on drinking as much as you could and your makeup needed to still be there once the night was over!

      When you were satisfied with your makeup, you took your fishnets tights and the burgundy velvet dress, heading to get dressed. The dress hugged your curves perfectly - and you were very proud of them, of course, knowing that all that time you spent working out wasn't for nothing. The barely-there straps fell into a beautiful, plunged neckline, showing just enough cleavage. The dress ended mid-thigh, letting your tattoo be seen. It had a V-shaped cut on the back, ending in a zipper that went until almost the hem of the dress. It showed your back tattoo beautifully, the color complementing the cherry blossom art. It was perfect, simple as that. With the nude fishnets with tiny strass rocks, a matching velvet choker with golden details and your black high heeled boots, it was the best look you wore all year, and it only got you more excited for what was to come - you felt like you could do anything. 

      You texted your group chat, knowing it was almost time to leave. The boys told you your name was on the list and they were already heading that way. You took one last look in the mirror, adjusting your cleavage and messing your hair a bit. After preparing the house for your late night guests, you took your dark blue jean jacket, your black clutch and had a shot of soju to get started. 

      Once you got out of the elevator, Hongjoong texted you to let you know they were already there and settled. Your stomach was flipping from how excited you were. The thought of a great night had you with a smile stuck on your face. Your taxi arrived while you were writing back, so you just said you'd be there in five and got in the car.

      Inside the fairly packed club, you went to the back and talked to the bouncer to be let into the secluded VIP area. You could see the boys sitting at a sofa with three tables, up the stairs, looking every bit as handsome as you could remember, if not more. God really had His favorites and all eight of those boys made the list. It was unfair how they looked effortlessly beautiful, as if they owned the place - and if they told anyone that, no one would even doubt it. It just served as a reminder that they really belonged in the public eye. It'd be a waste if they did anything else - not to mention how talented they are, of course.

      Hongjoong was the first to catch your attention. His bright blue hair contrasted perfectly with his all black look. He wore black dress shoes, combined with dress pants and a half-buttoned black dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, turning the fancy outfit into a great choice for a fancy club. His hair was pushed back, and his earrings shone in the low, reddish light of the space. To top it off, he wore a gold chain and a leather choker. His light makeup, a mix between his stage aura and his street looks, complemented his look incredibly well.

      To his left, Mingi sat, relaxing back into the leather sofa with a drink in hand. His a-bit-too-long blonde fringe was tossed to the side, with hairspray making sure it wouldn't fall in his eyes. Also wearing all black, he sported a tight turtleneck, showing his slim body well. With a suit jacket clashing with his black, ripped skinny jeans and dress shoes, he looked like he belonged in a runaway. He laughed at something the eldest said, pulling a bit at his collar. 

      Seonghwa was laughing and kept talking, inclined to the front. His tye-dye blue button-up had at least five buttons unbuttoned, showing a little of his toned chest - he seemed to have gained a nice bronze hue while on tour. He wore light jeans and casual shoes. His hair was also parted to the side, still sporting silver highlights. His earrings dangled as he laughed, and his rings drew attention to his elegant hands.  

      Yeosang sat at Hongjoong's right side, seeming preoccupied with his phone while his hyungs conversed. His blonde mullet was partially covered by a red beanie. He wore a jean jacket with black, ripped pants. They had something written in black and red letters, clearly a designer piece. Beneath his jacket was a white, printed shirt. His pants ended in a simple, dark blue sneaker. Although he sported a loose demeanor, his face showed he was a bit anxious. It had been a long time since they went out at home, and it seemed like he would take a bit longer to really relax.

      Jongho was at his side, trying to get his attention. His bright, copper hair fit perfectly with the club environment. His feet were moving to the beat of whatever song was on, his dress shoes shining every now and then under the high table. He wore a simple, black shirt, complemented by black, ripped, skinny jeans. They seemed to be the groups' favorite clothing item lately. Over it all, he wore a velvet, mustard jacket. It matched his hair and skin tone just right, and he didn't look as much like the cute maknae anymore.

      Seonghwa turned to Yunho, who seemed focused on trying to understand what they were talking about. As soon as the eldest talked to him, he opened a big smile, closing his eyes and tossing his head back in a heartfelt laugh. His simple, golden necklace was shaking along with his chest while he tried to calm down. His white, low cut shirt showed his collarbones, his skin also golden after the time abroad. Over it he wore a black leather jacket, with small details on the sleeves and on the shoulders. He was wearing black, bomber pants, with big pockets on both sides and a small chain on the right side. His black and white dancing sneakers were also being beat along with the music, and he never looked so relaxed. He's light, pink hair was a bit messy, probably suffering from the amount of times he ran his hand over it, pushing it back - the same gesture he was repeating now, making his grandpa's ring appear in the low light.

      San was standing up, facing the crowd downstairs while leaning on the balcony and moving his hips slightly to the music, like the movement came naturally to him - which seemed to be the utmost truth. His light look seemed to contrast with the rest of the group. While everyone seemed to rely on black for at least a piece or two, he wore a cream, dress shirt, unbuttoned in the same pattern as the others. He paired it with highwaisted, almost white jeans and white sneakers. His blonde, ash hair was a little longer, and fell perfectly over his face while he looked around. His gold earrings matched with his bracelets and chain, and no matter how shinning the objects were, they couldn't stand a chance over his chilled smirk; lips moving slowly, mouthing the lyrics to the song being blasted at the moment.

      While he was distracted, Wooyoung came up to him with two shots of soju, scaring his groupmate in a friendly way. They laughed together, and Wooyoung tossed his dark brown hair back, before taking the shot. He licked his lips and smiled, saying something you couldn't understand from where you were standing. He also wore long earrings, matching with a few leather bracelets. He sported a light blue jean ensemble, but his jacket looked long forgotten on the sofa. His white shirt clinged to his body perfectly, and the rolled sleeves over his shoulder highlight his arms - he clearly had been working out. His black, leather belt was the only dark item he wore. The white converse sneakers seemed to be brand new, shining with a light red tone thanks to the lighting of the area. He looked around, as if searching, and his eyes landed on you, on the bottom of the stairs, trying to get the bouncer's attention. Although you couldn't exactly hear him, you could see clearly what he mouthed, while smirking.

"Noona!"

      You looked at him and laughed, pointing at the bouncer and making a mock annoyed face. He didn't say anything, just smiled back and started to walk slowly towards you. He seemed to eye you up and down, trying to figure out what you were wearing and failing - you were surrounded by a few people and the bouncer covered you almost completely.

"Excuse me! Hi!" you said, flashing a friendly smile. "My name is on the list, I'm-"

"With us," before you could finish, Wooyoung butted in, finally reaching you. "You can let her in."

      The bouncer only nodded and stepped aside, letting you through to the VIP area. You took a few steps but were stopped by Wooyoung, who then took two back to look at you in the dim, mock corridor light.

"Fuck, noona, this is definetly new," he smirked. "You look amazing."

"Look at you, swearing like this!" you laughed, slapping him lightly on the shoulder and smirking back. "I'd twirl for you, baby, but I don't wanna have to do it twice, so you'll have to wait just a bit."

"Why not just for me? I thought I was special," he joked.

"You are, but I'm also too anxious to see all of you to waste time under the stairs."

"You hurt me like this!"

"Come on, now. I need to see how everyone will react to this look. It took me long to look this good!"

"I missed you too much, you know?" he laughed and hugged you.

      He pulled you by the hand, heading upstairs towards their booth. The anticipation of seeing all of them again made you nervous and excited at the same time; your stomach turning. You could see their confused looks when Wooyoung climbed the stairs turning to realization when they saw he was bringing someone along. It seemed to take them a beat to recognize you - the last time you saw each other was a messy sleepover that probably ruined your reputation with them forever, and the same the other way around.

      San took a step closer, saying your name happily and coming in for a hug. You gladly held him back, smiling back at him. Once he let you go he mimicked Wooyoung's action from a moment before, stepping back and looking at what you were wearing. All the boys called for you and you laughed, joyous to be with them again after so long.

"How's our late-birthday boy tonight?" you said, smiling at Jongho.

"Pumped to start celebrating!" he smiled back.

"You look great, noona!" Hongjoong added, smiling fondly at you.

"My, my! Thank you, Hongie. You guys look amazing, as always! It must be exhausting to look so good all the time," they laughed, a few standing up to come and hug you. "Before you mess my outfit hugging the life out of me, I promised Woo a twirl."

"The runaway is yours," Mingi joked.

"Oh well, if it is, I'll make it count."-you tossed your hair back, placing your clutch on one of the tables.

      Taking a step back, almost leaning on the balcony, you took your jacket off. The dress looked even better with the red and blue light shining over it, and your fishnets were glowing perfectly with the rocks reflecting the light. You tossed your jacket playfully at San, who just smirked and placed it on the sofa, next to Wooyoung's. You twirled slowly, making a few poses and putting your hair to the side, falling over your front, on the left. 

      You started to walk towards them, swaying your hips and smiling; certainly enjoying the playful atmosphere. With a final 180 turn, showing your back tattoo and looking back, you finally head towards the sofa, hiding your face with an embarrassed smile while the boys laughed and clapped at you. 

"God, I missed you all so, so much," you laughed, trying to look at all of them and take them in.

"We missed you too," Yeosang answered, smiling softly. "And now we can start this party."

"Of course! Thanks for waiting for me."

"It's not like we had to wait for long. And we did get a head start on the drinking part, so you should try and match us, noona!" Seonghwa said while pouring you two shots of soju.

"Can you guys stop calling me that?" you groaned. "I'm only two years older than you, Hwa! You make me feel like a grandma when you keep calling me 'noona'. I have a name and you're more than welcome to use it."

"The more you get mad about it, the more we're gonna use it and you know it," Yunho said, laughing while he looked at his phone.

"Okay! Rule one of the night, created specially because of Yeosang and Yunho!"-both of them looked at you the second you mentioned their names-"Cellphones on the table! Come on, guys. I haven't seen you in forever and we're celebrating tonight. Together! Let's forget about the whole virtual world for a while now, okay?"

"Now you sound like a grandma," Yeosang said back, but he let go of his phone anyway, a small smile betraying him.

"Yunho?" you said, expectantly.

"Fine, fine. You're right. Let's get this started."

"Yay!" you cheered. "You've made me happier already. Now let's start drinking!"

      You tossed back both soju shots, smiling devilish while pouring two more. After finishing filling up your cups, you served everyone else, two bottles gone in a blink. Before you knew it, you were on your fifth round, and switching to fancy cocktails you had a hard time pronouncing. It was always clear that you handled alcohol better than most of them, so you passed their number in no time. 

"Who wants to dance?" Wooyoung said, getting up and interrupting the small talk going around the booth. When nobody answered, he pouted. Just then, a reggaeton song came up.

"Oh, god! Me! I love this song," you replied, smiling and getting up, already dancing playfully. "Who'll join us? It's terrible to be the only ones dancing in this section!"

      When silence took place again, you and Wooyoung exchanged looks and started pulling the boys, one by one, up. Some playfully tried to sit again, but you two were keen on getting everyone on the dance floor on the upstairs area, hoping it would help the group loosen up.

"You're almost taller than me today, if feels weird," Hongjoong said, laughing. 

"Oh, stop." you said, smiling softly at him. "Don't tease me or I'll wear the 6 inch heels next time!"

"It feels like ages since I last danced like this," he said, a few moments later, holding your hands and dancing terribly on purpose.

"There's no better way to dance," you answered, matching his steps.

"I can think of a lot of ways that are better than this mess!" Seonghwa laughed.

"But you wouldn't want it any other way, right?" you clapped back, smiling. "Me neither."

      A strong hip hop song came on, and you, Mingi and Yunho shared wide grins, already going to the middle of the semi circle your group had formed. The beat was dropping heavily, and Mingi was the first one to start dancing to it, strong steps, smooth body rolls and a lot of teasing. Yunho soon followed, twerking intensely while Mingi started to do the same. They were laughing too hard, and the rest of the boys seemed to be having a great time just watching. You walked up to the two boys, holding Mingi's left shoulder and Yunho's right one, starting to sway your hips to the intense beats. Soon you were twerking to it, and the boys playfully clapped, starting to drop to the music, soon coming up again and crowding you. 

      You couldn't help but laugh at the mess your group was. Yunho started twerking again, this time pulling you to do the same. When he started to go down again, you pointed accusingly at him while the rest of the boys cheered him and Mingi on.

"It's not fair!" you said, pouting. "This dress doesn't let me do that and you know it."

"Come on, noona," Mingi said, pulling you and trying to make you follow his moves. "Show him what you got!"

      Laughing, you pushed him back and started to swirl your hips, gradually going down until your hands almost touched the floor. There, you ran your hands through your hair, pushing its length up while looking up at the boys, grinning. You did a 180 turn and got up, pushing your bottom back and throwing your hair to your left side, looking back at Mingi's and Yunho's faces as they cheered for you. As a final touch, you slapped your right hip playfully, winking at them.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Jongho said, laughing. "Now it's a party."

      You pulled the youngest to the space Yunho and Mingi were occupying moments before, dancing happily with him while a hype song came on. He blushed a soft pink when you and Yeosang started to dance around him. It wasn't long before the rest of the group started doing the same, some holding cups, drinking and laughing at his reaction.

      The nine of you seemed to dance forever before sitting down again, looking at the other few booths on the VIP section. You couldn't recognize anyone there, but you knew that they had money or were influential in a way. You always enjoyed going to that club with the boys, knowing you could trust the space and the staff not to say a thing about their visits. They always seemed more comfortable there, and that was more than enough reason for turning it into your meeting spot. 

      Mingi got up to order another round of cocktails for the table, as well as some appetizers. Some of the boys were starting to get tipsy, and looking adorable with pinkish cheeks and relaxed smiles. You weren't sure of much, especially during your time working abroad, but you were sure of one thing: you absolutely adored them. Just seeing them happy and loosening up was more than enough to get your mood better, already forgetting about the nasty day you had at work. 

"I love you guys," you said, smiling.

"Are you getting drunk, noona?" Jongho said, laughing. The rest of the boys soon followed.

"Of course not! Don't forget I'm always the only sober one at the end of the night when we drink together!" you huffed, faking an annoyed look. "I just… Really miss you guys sometimes. You know I'm too soft for my own good."

"All jokes aside, we love you too. Now don't get all soft and mushy, we still have a long way to go tonight! It's not even 1am yet," Hongjoong laughed and hugged you, pulling you close on the sofa.

"I know, I know. Where's Mingi with the drinks anyway?"

"Someone missing me already?" Mingi said, sitting on your right side.

"More like missing the drinks you went to get."-everyone laughed at your answer, while Mingi fake pouted.-"What are your plans for the night, by the way?"

"What do you mean?" Yeosang asked.

"Well, you know my apartment is ready for you guys either way, but I can see some girls in other booths looking over every now and then. So, are you planning on meeting someone tonight or just chilling?"

"Noona!" Jongho said, mock scandalized. "We're not here for that."

"What? It doesn't hurt to ask! I just don't wanna be surprised like before, you know?" you said teasingly, looking at San. "When a certain someone met a girl at the bathroom line and disappeared for an hour while we were planning on heading out."

"You can't blame me!" San said.

"Never! But it's good to be prepared, so we don't end up asking the bouncers for help again."

"We're not leaving anyone behind tonight, we're just here to chill and celebrate," Hongjoong said.

"Alright, alright! Don't beat me for asking," you laughed, and everyone got quiet for a beat too long, using their glasses as a distraction.

"What about you?" Yunho said.

"What about me?" you asked, confused.

"What's your plan?"

"My plan is to have the best night ever with my boys, of course!" you laughed. "Why'd you ask? No one's ever flirted with me when I was with you, guys. I bet people think we're in a crazy, kinky relationship or something."-all the boys laughed at that, looking at the scandalized waiter that came with your drinks as you said that.-"Oh, god. I'm sorry!"

"You turned a few heads tonight, noona. Maybe you should open your eyes before saying no one'll flirt with you," Wooyoung said, smirking again.

"When? Where? Show me!" you joked. "It's been ages since I flirted, might as well get back in the game tonight."

"There's a guy on the booth to your left that's been looking at you since we danced," San added.

      You looked around, finding a few guys sitting next to you. One of them caught your attention. He had black hair, a lip ring and a tattoo sleeve. He seemed to be really tall, considering he filled the sofa with his long legs, clad in skinny ripped and stained jeans. His large shirt was tucked into the front of his jeans, and the collar fell off his shoulder, revealing a bit of his chest tattoo. He seemed a bit older than you, around 25 years old, maybe. 

      He looked exciting. You were definitely interested. And as he returned your gaze, you could see that so was he.

"I think I'm in love," you half joked.

"Noona!" Jongho said, laughing and drinking a bit more, looking clearly tipsy. 

"Woo, baby," you said, looking at him. "Won't you dance with me again, seriously this time?"

"Why him?" Yunho butted in.

"We all know that Woo has no limits, and neither do I," you laughed. "He won't mind playing around a bit to help me see if I can really catch that guy's attention."

"Noona," Wooyoung smirked, "of course I'll be your partner in crime. Just be careful not to change your target after it."

"You're too full of yourself sometimes," you said, smirking back. "I love it."

      Wooyoung laughed and got up, offering you his hand while one of The Weeknd's hits started to play. You gladly took his hand, getting up slowly and turning towards the table, sending a smile to the guys one last time before heading close to the balcony with him - a great spot to put on a show for your crush for the night.

      Maybe it was the alcohol rushing through your veins, or the thrill of having someone's attention, but you knew you were treading dangerous waters, with no life jacket, and were loving every tiny second of it. As you and Wooyoung started to get closer, you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks. At the same time, "Try Me" was being blasted through the club's speakers, fueling your resolution.

      You weren't a great dancer compared to the group of performers, but you knew very well how to move your body to sensuous beats. And that's what you did. As Wooyoung took a step back, you started rocking towards him, moving your hips slowly, fitting the song as perfectly as you could while balancing on your huge heels - your pride and joy, being able to walk on them so gracefully. 

      He looked at you with a challenging gaze, a slow smirk showing on his handsome face. If you didn't value their friendship so much, you knew all of those boys would be huge trouble in your life. And since you and Wooyoung played this game more often than not, you knew that he and San would ruin your every resolution if you let them. 

      Once you got close enough to him, chest to chest, he started moving his hips in sync with yours. Slowly going down and coming back, coming too close to your face. So close you could feel his breath tickling your cheek. You smiled at him, whispering a "nice" in his ear. You then turned around, pressing your back to his front and placing his hands on your hips. You started moving again, slowly, feeling the beat rushing through you. He held your hips a bit tighter, closer.

      You pushed back just a little bit, earning a hiss and a small laugh from him. Every movement he made seemed to fuel yours, becoming more and more certain, as if you were starting to lose yourselves to the music and it's sensual atmosphere. He moved one of his hands up your arms, a touch barely there, and held onto your shoulders, stopping the movement of his hips so he could mold himself into yours. You melted into the rhythm and kept dancing until the song ended.

"You're dangerous tonight," he said after you stopped dancing.

"So are you, Woo," you whispered back. "You shouldn't go around playing games you can't finish."

When he was about to answer, Yunho interrupted you two, leaning on the balcony.

"You seem keen on getting that guy's attention," he said, nonchalantly. 

"Some attention is never bad," you answered, looking at him.

"He was paying attention, alright."-he stepped closer, while Wooyoung excused himself, saying he'd get another drink.-"Dance with me next."

"What? You think dancing with another guy is a good idea?"

"Well, if you only dance with Wooyoung, he'll think you're together."-you hit yourself on the forehead lightly, mouthing an "of course".

"I don't see why not. We're here to have fun, right?" you said, but a bit unsure.

"If attention is all you want, I can help you just fine."

"Alright! Let's do this," you said, rushing to the table to down another shot and running back in his direction.

      On the corner of your eye, you could see the guy sitting there, looking at you as if trying to figure out what was going on. He was wearing a firing smirk, laid back on the sofa, curious about what you were going to do next. A surge of courage made you meet his gaze and smile softly at him. You turned back to Yunho, pulling him by the hands, and started dancing again.

      Katie's "Remember" started playing, and before you could make a move, he started dancing around you, crowding your space in the best way possible. His moves were calculated, playing with you, teasing you. He started moving on his own, and you stood there, as if hypnotized by him. His eyes never left yours, and he looked like a man on a mission, starved and on his last chance to get his fill. He touched you every now and then, holding your hands, guiding them to his chest while he put his on your hips after. When he got close to your face, you held him by his shirt, pulling, a challenge written all over your face as the chorus came up. 

      You placed your legs around one of his, his thigh dangerously close to your sex, keeping one hand on his neck and another leading one of his to your hips. Then, you rested it on his shoulder, while his left hand hovered around your back, light touches every now and again. You started to sway your hips to the beat, small body waves connecting your chests while his breathing seemed to quicken. Yours soon followed, and for a second you even forgot what you were doing and why. Just then, you saw the mysterious guy searching for your eye. With more determination than before, you started grinding on Yunho, looking at the guy and smiling slowly. You could feel Yunho accepting every move you made, completing it with his own. 

      He held onto you, his hands fisting on the soft fabric of your dress, hinching the hem up a bit, showing more of your skin, only for him - since he had you almost pressed against the balcony, his huge figure covering yours. He ran one of his hands over your cheek, stopping on your neck and going to the back of your head, ready to pull you even closer, even if it felt impossible. He then turned you with that hand, passing your head under his arm and never letting go of you. As you were turning, you met eyes with the stranger again.

      He started walking towards you as the song reached its end. Yunho was breathing heavily, his head resting on your shoulder and his hands still clinging you to him. That is, until your target interrupted you.

"Think you can save one of these dances for me?" he said, his voice husky and intoxicating. Yunho looked at you and then at the guy before turning and heading back to your booth, saying something to himself you couldn't quite understand.

"Depends on whether you're worth my time," you smirked at him, joking, feeling confident after dancing with your friends. "As you could see, I had very skilled partners before."

"I promise I'm more than worth your time," he said. "I'm Choi Seon, by the way. I'm 27."

"Seon… Nice to meet you," you said, relishing in how nice his name felt on your lips, although it felt like your voice had disappeared. "I'm 24."

"No name?" he laughed.

"Not just yet."-you smiled, glad he was older than you. You were tired of being called noona all night by your teasing friends. 

"I'll just have to call you babe," he smirked. 

"Let's dance, then, Seon?"

      You didn't have to say it twice. He smiled down at you, seemingly even taller than Yunho, and pulled you in with strong, sure arms. You held onto his shoulders, starting to feel a little shy under his heated gaze. The reality of everything was starting to hit you, your confidence fading a bit. As if he could sense if, he started to move you along with him, pulling you back under his spell. 

      His hands traveled over your body, one pulling you even closer by your lower back while the other guided your hips, making you follow the movement of his own. You felt wild, carnal. As if you two were the only there, and everything that was left unsaid was too dangerous to be announced; prohibited thoughts rushing through your head as you let yourself go under his lead.

      He spun you around, carefully touching your waist and passing his hand just under your cleavage. You were too far gone to care. You started moving with more confidence, pressing your back against him. He put your hair to your side, over your shoulder, and kissed the spot between your neck and your collarbone. You moved your head back, relishing in the feeling of his lips on your skin. You turned around again then, taking a small step back while tracing your hands from your hips, up to your waist and to the straps of your dress, finishing with a raise of your head, hands sliding through your hair, making you look just as far gone as you felt. He put his hands on your waist and pulled you close again, smiling and kissing the corner of your lips. You closed your eyes for a while, feeling the music and enjoying the trance you were in. 

      When you opened your eyes, you could see Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho looking directly at you. What rushed over you was hard to place. While you felt incredibly embarrassed, a part deep inside you was turned on by the erotic, forbidden feeling of everything. This was a new, dangerous sensation, and you didn't know how to deal with it. Seon, ever so observing, seemed to have read your confusing feelings, smirking at you knowingly. The song was ending, and you didn't know if you'd ask for another one or run away. Turns out you didn't have a chance to do either, as he tilted your head so you could look into his eyes and, ever so slowly, as if teasing you, kissed you. 

      You couldn't remember the last time you were kissed, especially like this. He kissed you like he was savoring you, and you just melted in his arms. When his lips parted from yours, they fell into another knowing smile.

"Was it worth your time?" he said and you breathed in, not sure how to respond. Your thoughts seemed to be scrambled, so you did what you wanted and kissed him again.

       This was already the wildest night you lived in a very long time, if not ever. You were doing things you never thought you would, letting yourself pretend for a night that you're the confident woman that gets who she wants, when she wants. Not the shy, terrible at romance and everything else woman you usually were. Not the one who doesn't even remember the last time she had a date, much less caught a guy's attention long enough to be approached. Way before coming to South Korea, that's for sure. After your first - and only - relationship turned out to be a complete fail, you never tried anything again. Every connection you had with men after that was fully platonic. 

      With that idea in mind, you let him lead you to his booth, his friends gone to the dance floor on the first floor. You looked at your friends and they smiled, some even hollering, causing your cheeks to blush a dark pink. Seon just smiled down at you, pretending he didn't notice it so you wouldn't be even more embarrassed. You were definitely grateful for that. 

      While you sat, he tried to start a conversation with you. You looked around the space, as if in a daze, your ears filled by the sound of your heart beating erratically in your chest. You knew your breathing was uneven, and you looked a bit disheveled after dancing so close to him. As hard as you tried to concentrate on what he was saying, your emotions were betraying you, leaving you confused and unable to focus on whatever it was he asked you. His husky laugh was what brought you back to reality.

"I lost you for a while there, didn't I?" he asked, still laughing.

"I'm sorry!"-you blushed furiously, the effect of your actions on the dance floor wearing out-"I guess I'm a bit out of it. What was it you said again?"

"I asked if you'd like a drink."

"That would be great, actually."

"What were you having?" - he asked, looking at one of the bartenders.

"Just soju is fine! I like to keep it simple."-you laughed, finally mustering the courage to look him in the eyes again.

"Seeing that you came with so many men, I'd have to disagree with that."-his comment seemed to put you out, a confused looked crossing your face.-"I'm not judging, just curious."

"We're friends, that's all..." you trailed off. "They've been working too hard for the past months, so we're celebrating a few birthdays today."

"You seem pretty close." 

"They're basically my only friends here." you whispered, smiling softly.

"Have you been living here for long?"

"For almost two years, now. It's quite different from home, that's for sure."-he laughed at that, and you soon followed.

"It may be. From the way you dance… It looks like you're from a 'freer', 'looser' place."

"I see..." you said, taking a sip of your drink and trying to think of a way to keep the conversation flowing that didn't include not-so-charming comments on your origins. "I'm terrible at this, oh my god!"

"At what?" he laughed, confused.

"I can't believe I said this out loud. Okay," you said, blushing. "It's just been a long time since I've done anything like… this"-you motioned between you.

"You're cute," he smiled. "You're blushing and nervous around me, even though you kissed me and danced with me like you wanted to tear my clothes off."-he ran his hand over your arm, up to your shoulder, sending goosebumps across your skin.-"And your cheeks are burning, but you're still looking at me like you can't wait to kiss me again."

"You're cracking your head trying to read me, now?" you joked.

"You're interesting to me, that's all. Maybe we should dance more to see if you can get more comfortable."

"I don't think dancing will have that effect on me right now."

      He laughed and you smiled back at him. You took the time to look over to your booth, seeing the boys deep in conversation, still drinking happily. Some looked your way every once in a while, and you started to feel a little guilty for ditching them on your first time together in months.

"Don't you wanna sit with us?" you asked Seon, looking at him expectantly. "I don't wanna spend the rest of the evening away from my friends."

"Do you think they'll be okay with it?" he asked you back, looking over to your tables.

"Of course! They're super chill,"-you smiled-"you'll see. Let's go!"

      You got up and pulled Seon by his hand, walking towards your booth. All the boys stopped talking and looked up at you, perhaps wondering why you were bringing him over. Hongjoong motioned for Yeosang and Yunho to scoot over, giving you and Seon space to sit as you arrived at the table.

"Thanks, guys," you smiled down at them, sitting beside Hongjoong while Seon sat to your right. "This is Choi Seon!"

"Hi, there. Nice to meet you all."

      The group nodded at him, introducing themselves one at a time. 

"You seem familiar," Seon said, and you exchanged looks.

"We're no one important," San smiled.

"You're really good dancers," Seon added. 

"We had a good partner," Wooyoung said, smiling at you.

"Tell me about it. I saw from up close how hard it is to keep up with her."

"Oh, please. I'm far from that," you laughed at them. "The boys are the professionally trained ones, I just used whatever advantage I had to measure up."

"You surely have lots of those," Seon smirked, running his hand over your knee and up to the hem of your dress. You slapped his hand playfully. "Do you come here often?"

"Not really," you replied. "We come here when we can, which isn't as often as I'd like."

"We're always working, so it's hard to get time out of our schedules," Mingi completed.

"I know how that feels," Seon nodded. "But I always try to come here with the guys. It's a great spot."

"We like it a lot too," you smiled at him. "I'll order us some more drinks. Four bottles of soju are okay, right?"

"Seems like a good number to keep this going," Yeosang laughed, his cheeks colored from the amount of alcohol he had already drank. 

      Once you got the bottles on the table, you poured shots to everyone, some mixing theirs with beer, and took yours. Seon poured you another one, and you happily drank it too, feeling the heat from the alcohol keeping you in the perfect space between sober and drunk. You could tell some of the boys were already crossing that bridge, and were glad to see them having fun.

      From there on, conversation seemed to flow easily between you two, occasionally including one or two of the boys in your discussions. Seon's friends came back up and sat on their own booth, acknowledging him and your table while passing.

"I'll go talk to the guys for a bit and come back, okay?" Seon said, lips close to your ear to make sure you could hear him well enough.

"Okay, I'll be here," you smiled at him, and he took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your lips again.

      Once he left, all the boys turned no-so-subtly at you.

"So, noona..." San said. "Are you going to be the one to ditch the group today? How the tables have turned!"

"Oh come on! It's not like I'll leave you guys alone!" you laughed, looking around the space.

"Not now, anyway. But by the way he's looking at you, you'll probably be leaving together real soon," Mingi chimed in, looking at Seon as he said something to his friends and laughed.

"Are you going to leave with him?" Yunho asked, looking a bit startled by the possibility.

"Guys! Stop! It's not like that..." you trailed off. "I think? Or is it? God, I definitely need to get better at this. It's been too long since I even thought about doing this."

"We're still going back to yours, right?" Hongjoong asked, looking worried.

"Of course! I'd never leave you hanging. The worst that could happen would be me giving you my keys and everything. My apartment is basically yours now, anyway."

"You can't do that!" Jongho said. "Are you seriously considering ditching?"

"I thought we would hang after, watch movies and talk, or something," Seonghwa added. "You know, continue the celebration through the weekend, like we said before."

"I don't know..."-you looked back over Seon's booth.-"Would I be a terrible person if I did it?"

"Basically." Yunho said, matter of factly. 

"No!" Wooyoung said at the same time.

"Seriously, though… I'd still be back in the morning, right? We could do all that tomorrow. I'll cook you lunch like I promised."

"It wouldn't be the same..." Jongho trailed off.

"You know we can't just go back to your building and whatever," Yunho continued. "Besides, you don't even know the guy! You know what? His name?"

"I'm not looking to do a background check on him! I know enough for this," you answered.

 "For this as in…?" Yeosang looked at you, trying to see if you'd finish your trail of thought.

"You know! Hooking up? I don't know how you kids call it these days," you joked, trying to lighten the mood. "I've never done this before, I don't exactly know how it works. You tell me."

"He looks like he'd drop you like nothing once he got what he wants," Seonghwa said, looking concerned. "Doesn't that bother you? Even a little?"

"So what? That's what I'd want too! You do this all the time. What's wrong with me doing it too?"

"Are you seriously this stupid?" Yunho yelled at you.

"Hyung!" Jongho called after Yunho, a look of shock crossing his face and everyone else's. "He didn't mean that."

"I guess he meant naive, noona," Yeosang said, trying to fix the situation.

"No, I meant exactly what I said, and I know you're all thinking it too," Yunho said, looking directly at you. 

      You were fuming by now. After drinking you knew your filter wouldn't exactly work, and you could feel the words rising up and leaving your mouth before you could think of stopping.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean, huh?" you pointed at Yunho, who stared back at you with just as much anger. "You think I'm some stupid little girl, now? You think I can't handle myself? Fuck off, will ya? I can judge character just fine, and if I want to go over to his and do whatever the fuck else, you best believe I will!"

"So you're going?" Wooyoung asked, looking between you and Yunho.

"He didn't even fucking ask me yet! What's got you so angry anyway?"

"You were the one who kept babbling about this being a night for us to be all together!" Yunho answered and the boys shook their heads, agreeing with the fact, but probably not with the approach. 

"I know! And it still is-"

"You were the one who kept complaining about how we were away for too long," he kept going, interrupting you. "And you were the one who even had the idea of us going over yours for the weekend."

"There's no need to get angry at me over this! I didn't even do anything yet."

"That's right, yet."-he took a deep breath, failing to stop himself from continuing.-"So what? You'll give us your keys and leave us here alone while you go to who knows where with a random guy?" 

"Yunho, you should watch your tone if you don't want me to leave your fucking asses on the street," you said, looking stern and pissed off. How could he turn on you like this? 

"Isn't that your intention now?"-Yunho looked like he had no intention of backing out of this argument.

"You're being so fucking childish right now. You want me to leave?"-you were practically fuming, your breathing erratic, blood pumping through your veins and wearing off the effect of your previous drinks.

"Might as well. Already got what you wanted anyway," he said, nonchalantly. You'd almost believe he didn't care if it wasn't for how hard he was staring you down.

"I hope you're stupidly drunk right now, I really do. Because this ridiculous behaviour is inexcusable."

"Noona, calm down," Seonghwa said, looking around as if he expected the guys to help him, but they remained stunned into silence.

"Me? You're telling me to calm down?" you practically screamed at him, feeling put off by how none of them even tried to defend you or intervene when Yunho was the one saying things he shouldn't. "Yunho is literally here being a slut-shaming piece of-"

"Stop!" Hongjoong exclaimed, looking around the table. Everyone returned his gaze, trying their hardest to not return yours.

"You know what? I really didn't need this tonight," you sighed, defeated. "I was so excited to go out with you guys again. I really, really missed you all a lot and-"

"Doesn't seem like it." Yunho said, almost to himself, but you certainly heard it, like he was saying it right to your face. A slap would've hurt less.

"I'm fucking tired, okay? I'm not gonna do this," you said, staring into his eyes in hopes he'd see how much he hurt you. By the way he flinched slightly, you knew he noticed it. "I had a shitty day, and I don't have to deal with this right now."

      Everyone was silent, looking at you and not knowing exactly what to say. You couldn't believe how such a perfect night was ending so badly.

"I'm gonna go," you whispered. "I'm just gonna leave. You guys stay. I don't wanna be around some of you right now."

"Noona," Mingi said, reaching out to you.

"Don't you dare 'noona' me."-you pushed your arm back, already putting on your jacket and getting ready to leave.-"I'll talk to your fucking manager later, he'll figure this out for you."

      You grabbed your clutch, spilling a half-drank cup of beer that was next to it on the table. You fought the urge to apologize, feeling all of your energy seep away while you took one last look at them. You didn't have anything else to say, and they seemed to feel the same way; Yunho didn't even look at you until you spoke again.

"Enjoy the rest of your night."

      You didn't even bother saying goodbye to Seon. Whatever was going on between you two was over the moment the discussion started. It felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice on you, and even so, you felt extremely hot from all the pent up anger.

      You knew they were looking at your retracting figure, your steps heavy as you climbed down the stairs. The bouncer let you out of the VIP area, and you sighed a small "thank you", never stopping your steps. You felt you'd try to go back if you stopped, and your pride was more important to you at that moment. You wouldn't back down. You did nothing wrong.

      Still fuming and needing to cool down, you decided to walk back home, the cold night breeze very welcomed. It hit your face, moving your hair slightly. The street was still buzzing with people, some going from one bar to the other, some conversing and drinking with friends. That's how you expected your night to go, you thought, walking faster to get away from the bright city lights.

      The 20-minute walk did you good, your mood getting better after you stopped duelling on it. You were completely sober by the time you reached your building, missing the comfortable buzz you had throughout the night. As you opened your door, shoes in hand, you decided to have a glass or two of wine before going to bed. You were too nervous still to just sleep, and wine always helped you relax.

      You took off your jacket, hanging it neatly on your closet, and left your purse and choker in your room, phone in hand. Going straight to the kitchen next, you frowned at the state of your living room, deciding to get the bottle of wine before stressing over the messy space, already half prepared to receive your big number of guests. You took a bag of chips from the cabinet, heading to your sofa to lie down and watch some TV.

      Feeling slightly uncomfortable and stuffed in the tight dress, you opened the zipper, almost fully, making sure to turn the aircon on next. Wine glass in one hand, TV remote in the other, you browsed the Netflix catalogue, searching for a foolish movie to watch - preferably one you'd seen before, since you were sure you'd just end up using it as background noise. Not finding anything worth binge-ing, you checked your phone, absentmindedly. A part of you wished one of the boys texted you, the other wanting to do it; to at least let them know you got home fine and wish them a safe ride back to theirs. 

      You knew you were being petty. You also knew you weren't exactly wrong, and you fought against your pride again, thinking it'd been 40 minutes since you left them alone. Would they be able to go back home? You knew their crazy fans were still camping outside their place. 

"I can still tell them to come and just stay on my own in another room or something," you said to yourself. "I don't want them to get into trouble because of me."

      With your mind made up, you unlocked your phone, ready to text them that they could come over if they'd like. Still, you started typing and stopped, repeating this countless times. Nothing sounded right to you. You didn't want to be cold, but also couldn't just act like nothing happened. 

"I'm definitely overthinking this."

      You poured yourself another glass of the white wine, the bottle getting closer to its end way earlier than you intended. The cold liquid was working wonders in their task of calming you down. You thought best to change and remove your makeup before doing anything else, maybe looking for distractions before talking to them. You knew they'd probably still be at the club, trying to figure out how to get home or what to do to not be seen. If you knew Hongjoong well - which you did - you knew he was probably contacting a manager as you drank, and it served enough to make you feel guilty once again for leaving. You felt like crying. 

      Determined to be the bigger person and try to save whatever was left of the night, you took your phone again and started typing. Before you could finish the message, someone rang your doorbell. Mildly distracted, you didn't pay attention to the sound. That was, until someone started pounding at your door. 

"Guys?" you asked, putting your now empty glass on the table and walking towards the door. "Who's there?" 

      You opened the door slowly, finding a rugged looking Yunho leaning against the frame, right hand moving to knock again.

"Yunho!" you gasped, looking him over before meeting his eye. "Where are the guys? I was just about to text you all to come over!"

      He looked at you, breathing heavily, not uttering a single word. You waited for him to say something, but he remained there, leaning on the door frame, staring you down.

"It was so stupid, baby. The fight was so, so stupid," you said, starting to feel nervous again. "I don't wanna fight with any of you. You owe me an apology, but god we should've never let such a stupid argument ruin our night."-he entered the apartment, taking off his shoes as you kept talking, afraid to fall into heavy silence again.-"I wouldn't have done anything with Seon, you know? It just… felt nice. To be noticed, I mean. It felt nice to be wanted."

      He started moving towards you, taking slow, small strides as you kept talking, moving to close the door.

"Yunho, please… talk to me," you begged, trying to get him to say something, anything. "Just say 'sorry'. That's all I need."

      He looked strong, present, in the dim light of the living room. The small rays coming from the kitchen and the TV cast perfect shadows on his face. As he got closer, you lost track of whatever you were saying. Your mind was running a million miles per hour, wondering where the rest of the boys were, what he intended to do, and why he was looking at you like he'd want nothing more than you to stop talking.

      You locked the door, using the excuse to stop staring into his intense eyes. You could feel him close to your back, his breath making your hair move slightly. Before you could ask him what he was doing so close, he placed a hand on your left shoulder, turning you towards him and pressing you against the wall, his face perfectly contrasted by the lights. He looked like sin incarnated, and you felt trapped under his spell. You tried to form words, but all you could do was gape at him, your breaths coming out a little faster every second he spent close like this. 

      He came closer, his right hand supporting his weight while his left took your hair off your shoulders, his face coming down to meet yours. You never felt so small close to him. His lips ghosted against your cheek, moving to your right ear. Then, he took his hand off the wall and touched your face gently, moving to touch your neck, reaching the back of your neck and entangling in your hair. He kissed the space between your ear and neck, lips grazing your ear as he finally spoke.

"Noona," he breathed the word against you, sighing at the end of it. 

      This word had never hit you as hard as it did. His voice, everything, made it sound like the most sinful word in your vocabulary. 

      He sounded like he was in pain. His whole body started trembling slightly, pressing harder against you. You gasped at the raspy sound of his voice, and he moved his head back to look at you. His eyes were heavy lidded, breathing even faster now. Yours seemed to match his, and that second lasted like an eternity.

      Yunho kissed you. His lips barely touching yours, as if he was scared you'd push him back once he did it. When he saw you wouldn't, he came back down for another kiss. This time, he kissed you fiercely, with such force, as if you were water and he had spent days in a desert. Your lips pressed against his, kissing him back with just as much want, if not more. 

      He tugged at your hair, pulling it back to tilt your head, making his access to your lips easier. You gasped, almost moaning at the sensation, your lips parting slightly. He took advantage of that, his tongue snaking into your mouth, ready to explore you. The action seemed to pull you back to reality, and you held him hard on the shoulders, whining as if you were reluctantly having to let him go. You pushed him back softly, also scared to break the moment. He grunted, as if the act hurt him physically. His hips were pressing yours against the wall, and you moved yours automatically.

"Noona," he whispered again.

"Yunho..." you sighed and pushed him once more, needing space to be able to think. "Wh- What are you doing?"

"I..." he trailed off, taking a deep breath. "Noona, please."

"Tell me what you need," you said, trying to forget about every complication this could entail. All you could think about, all you could see, was him. And, for god, was he glorious. "Talk to me, baby."

"You," he whispered against your lips, your eyes focused on his own. 

"Oh my god," you sighed, moving your head to the side. 

      He gave you space, although not much, afraid you'd run away once he got far enough. You looked at him, then back at the living room, trying to understand what was going on. He glanced back, seeing the wine bottle. He moved to it, taking a sip directly from it. 

      You were frozen into place, and he took advantage of that, bringing the almost empty bottle to you and pressing it against your lips. You drank it gladly, fueled by how he stared at your lips against the rim of it. The simple gesture never seemed so erotic. 

      After you finished the wine, he placed the bottle on the ground and pressed against you again. When you shied away from his gaze, he touched your chin, lifting his head to make sure you could see him as well as he could see you. He smirked at you, chest heaving, and turned you around. He grunted loudly, resting his head on your shoulder as his right hand, still cold from holding the bottle, touched your semi-open zipper.

"God, noona," he said against your skin, tickling your neck. "What were you doing before I got here."

"I..." you tried and failed to form a sentence, your face pressed against the wall, your hip moving on its own only to be held by his left hand, leaving you completely at his mercy. "I was going to change, that's all."

      You moved your hands to your back, closing the zipper rapidly as a blush started creeping on your cheeks. He chuckled at that, right hand forcing yours against the wall, lips kissing your cheek. He kissed down to your shoulders, lips running over your cherry blossom tattoo - his favorite.

"There's no need to close it, noona," he whispered, sensuously. "It'll end up on the floor anyway."

"Fuck, Yunho."

"Don't," he said, breathing in slowly. "Don't say my name like that."

"Or what?" you asked, holding on to the last shreds of your sanity. "Yunho."

      He pressed his hips against yours, breathing in the scent of your perfume. You gasped at the sensation, starting to lose yourself to the forbidden, dangerous situation. A small whimper left your lips, and he pressed even harder against you, right hand coming up to hold you by the hair once more, turning you around slowly as his eyes fell to your cleavage. 

      Yunho kissed your exposed skin, climbing from your chest to your neck. He sucked hardly, making sure to mark you as his. You hissed, right hand grabbing his hips hard as you moved yours against his, losing yourself to the sensation of his lips on your skin. He blew cold air to the place he sucked on, biting it and climbing up to your lips.

      This kiss felt like the final straw. You pulled him by his shirt, closer. You wanted him as close as humanly possible. No, you needed him as close as possible. You kissed him hard, your lips taking over his, guiding him. Your hands pushed his jacket back, and he let go of you briefly, just enough to let the item fall, discarded, to the floor. You ran your hands through his hair, and he took the opportunity to pull on yours once more, holding the back of your neck just tight enough to make you moan against his lips again. He pulled your right leg up, moving harder against you.

      He pressed his hips hardly against yours, and you could feel him harden, moving like he couldn't wait a second more to have you. You felt that, if you let him, he would take you right there. Hard and rough against your living room wall. Close enough to the door that you'd need to be quiet in order to not let your neighbors overhear. Just the thought of him doing so was enough to get you wet, your thighs pressing close, needing the friction. 

      You stopped the kiss, whispering his name as sweetly as you could, pushing him back just so you could pull him by the hand, moving towards your couch. You pushed him on it, waiting for him to settle, sitting, before climbing on his lap. 

"Noona," he whispered. "What are you doing to me?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you said, smirking against his lips before kissing him again.

      You placed your legs around his hips, your dress riding up your thigh, exposing your underwear. He stopped kissing you to look down, taking in the image of you completely gone over his lap, grinding down on him slowly, teasing the both of you. His hands pulled your dress higher, moving to your waist and squeezing you hard. You moaned, grinding hard on him as you went for another kiss. It felt like you spent ages just kissing, touching each other as well as you could, pressing him on the sofa as you did so. 

      You forced your hips down, feeling his erection against your core. It felt so crude, so raw, and oh, so big, you couldn't help but moan his name once more. He moved his hips up to meet yours, hands ripping your tights hardly as you fisted his shirt, annoyed at how the fabric was standing between you two. The sound of them ripping filled the room, your breath quickening at the action.

"Take this off," you said, commandly. "Now."

      You didn't need to say it once more. He pushed you back, just enough to have space to pull the fabric off, slowly revealing his chest. You looked at him like you were starved, and he returned the gaze. His chest was glistening with sweat, and you had never seen something so beautiful. Yunho panting, looking at you, shirtless, was the sexiest scene you ever had the pleasure to witness. 

"I can't wait anymore," you said, almost to yourself, as you stood up.

       You pushed him back as he tried to follow, fixing your dress once again. He looked at you, confused, but his expression soon turned to one of pleasure, as you ran your hands up his thighs, getting closer and closer to his erection. You smirked at him, teasingly, and pulled him up by the belt, guiding him to your room. You were never so thankful for having a king sized bed.

      He looked at you expectantly, seemingly enjoying this game of dominance you two were playing. You pushed him back on your bed, sitting on the edge of it. He tried to kiss you again, but you cut the kiss short, pushing on his chest as you started to go down on his body. He sucked in a breath just at the thought of what you were going to do. 

"Noona, you have no idea of how many times I dreamed of your lips on me," he confessed, hand ruining his hair even more.

"I hope I measure up," you smirked at him, hands sliding against his legs once more. "I've dreamt about this too. Way too much."

      Your hands passed over his body, coming to his pants and slowly opening the button. You climbed against his body, kissing his chest and going down, grabbing the zipper between your teeth. You looked up at him, seeing the anticipation and lust in his eyes. They made you want to do so much more, and you relished on the feeling, bringing the zipper down as painfully slow as you could. As soon as your teeth grazed his erection, he pushed his hips up, hissing. He laid back on his elbows, eyes staring at you, consuming your every move. 

      You finally pulled his pants down, the sight of his erection straining against his underwear more than enough to get your mouth watering. You knew there was no turning back; might as well enjoy it to the fullest. You kissed his hips, sucking softly on his skin, feeling his hands coming to touch you, before moving to his hair once more. You kissed him through the fabric and he held his breath, closing his eyes and tossing his head back.

      Pulling his underwear down, you stared him in the eye, turned on by his blown out pupils. You were more than glad to see he was just as far gone as you were. There was something empowering about seeing him completely naked while you were still clothed, and you intended on taking advantage of that feeling.

"You look so beautiful," he whispered, almost to himself.

"Not as much as you," you answered, smiling. "You're a work of art."

      You passed your hands up his thighs again, kissing him everywhere but where he needed you the most. His chest was heaving, his breathing shallow, eyes anticipating your every move. It was intoxicating, seeing him losing his cool over your small actions. You wrapped your hand around his erection, turned on by the curses coming out of his mouth.

      Ever so slowly, you moved your lips next to his shaft, kissing his skin while moving your hand. His hand held onto your hair, pulling just enough to get you to lose it. You kissed his tip, lips enveloping him as you took your time savoring him, going down slowly until he was fully inside your mouth. The sound he let out then was wild, carnal, and you moaned against him. 

      He pushed his hips up slightly, as if begging you to do something, anything. You couldn't help but comply, lips going up and down on him, pace quickening. He kept moving his hips and pulling your hair, trying to meet your movements with his own.

"Fuck, noona," he cried out. "You're ruining me."

      You kept going, boosted by the noises he was making, deep throating him as you felt his whole body tense under your ministrations. He was panting, desperate, and you didn't stop until you felt he was on the edge, lips popping off him; a string of saliva still connecting your bodies.

"That's my intention." 

      He pulled you up by the back of your neck, hands trying to touch you everywhere at once. He kissed you hard. Pressing against you, standing up once more, he ran his right hand over your back, opening your dress again. This time, he kissed your shoulders while lowering the straps, hands pushing the fabric down until you were standing in front of him wearing nothing but ruined tights and red lace panties. 

      Spinning you around, he could see just how small the piece was, your ass on full display for him. Just for him. He called your name at that, the first time he mentioned it the whole night. Somehow, you missed how sinful the word "noona" sounded coming out of his lips. You were almost embarrassed by how the thought of it got you even more turned on; your body betraying you as another rush of arousal left you on edge. 

"Ca- call me..." you whispered. "Noona. Just that."

"I knew you liked it," he smirked, you could feel it against your back. "Noona."

      He spun you around again, this time pushing you against the bed. 

"You look good enough to eat, noona."

      He ripped the tights even more, want taking over him. He kissed you again, pulling you by the neck close to him. You ran your hand over his back, nails scraping his skin, making him hiss against your lips. He kissed you even harder, right hand grabbing your waist and holding it hard enough to bruise. His left hand guided your hips against his erection while he pressed it to your core. You moaned his name, desire clouding your mind as you called him once more.

"Yunho, please," you pleaded, hoping he'd put an end to your suffering. "I can't take this anymore."

      He got on his knees, looking directly at your core as you blushed, trying to close your legs and hide from him.

"Don't. You don't need to hide from me, noona," he said, looking into your eyes before letting his roam over your body once more. "You're too fucking beautiful." 

"Yunho..." you moaned his name.

"I want to remember every moment tomorrow, noona," he kissed your stomach, looking shy. "I hope you do too."

      Before you could respond, he ran his hand over your panties, teasing your clothed core. You started writhing, every nerve ending sensitive thanks to his previous actions. You felt like you couldn't take it anymore, his teasing only making you need him more. You started begging, unashamed, for him to really touch you, for him to do anything.

      He started kissing down your body, going from your jaw to your collarbone; marking you. His lips hovered over one of your nipples and you lost your breath, right hand sinking into his hair as you moaned. He kissed it slowly, repeating the action on the other one. He started moving his tongue around it, blowing cold air every now and then. The other wasn't left unattended, being toyed with when he ran his hand over your chest; fingers pressing on it. You were writhing beneath him, unable to form a coherent sentence as he ravaged your body. 

      Once he saw you were losing control, he let go of your nipples, giving each a small peck before kissing down your stomach, stopping at your navel. You hissed, whispering his name as he looked up at you, smirking. He moved to your waist, kissing each side before falling to your hips, repeating the sucking motion you'd done on his moments before. His teeth scraped against whatever was left of your fishnets and you fisted the sheets, closing your eyes, chest heaving. He pulled at the strings, relishing in your instant reactions. He was eating up every movement, every noise, every whimper; everything you gave him.

      His hands were touching your stomach and coming down to your thighs, his light touch heighting his teasing. Using both hands, he ripped the top of your tights so he could take off your panties. He pushed back down a bit more, discarding the ruined underwear, face coming close to your core. He breathed against your now naked area, and that action alone had you seeing stars. He then kissed the area slowly, tentatively tasting you. The sound you made was wild; a perfect description of how you felt once his lips connected to your body. 

      He started to move his tongue in circles, falling into a slow rhythm that had you begging him for more. Showing you that he heard you loud and clear, he started moving his right hand towards your centre, his left one trying to stop your hips from grinding against him. Once you finally managed to stop moving, he awarded you with faster movements, his hand already teasing your entrance. He inserted one finger into you, moving it temptatively while his tongue continued its assault. 

      The difference between his actions got you close to your climax in no time, and you couldn't take it anymore. You pulled him up, receiving a puzzled look - like he could tell you were almost there and was annoyed to have to stop. You squeezed his shoulders, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, pushing your hips up against his. You couldn't breathe, couldn't see anything. All you could think about was having him inside you.

"Yunho, please. I really can't take it anymore. Please, fuck me."-you pressed your hips against his once more, desperate for some kind of friction. 

      He pressed down on you harder, loving the sensation of your naked bodies meeting. His movements were excruciatingly slow, and you could feel him shaking against you, keen on teasing you even though he wanted you just as much. You could do nothing but follow his hands with your eyes, heart beating so fast you could barely hear him; the beats louder than the music back at the club.

      As soon as you thought about the place, you whimpered. The memory of his hands running over your body, hips moving together to the beat of a sensuous song; "Dirty Dancing" a kids' show close to what you were doing. You didn't realize it then, but you could definitely feel now just how bad he wanted you, and how bad you wanted to succumb to your darkest desires. For months now you fought against your desire for him, and he seemed to have done the same. Letting go; it felt as freeing as freedom could possibly be. 

"Noona," he said, forcing you to open your eyes; you hadn't even realized you closed them. "Look at me."

      He looked down at you, almost naked - the last shreds of your tights still clinging to your skin - and smiled. His hands ran from your legs up to your chest, finally getting to your face. He touched your cheek softly, encouragingly, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. Just then, he started to look around, a question hanging on his face.

"I don't have any condoms," he said, pouting cutely - a big change from his previous dominant demeanor.

"Me neither," you added, although smiling. "But we don't need them."

      He stared at you then, confused but intrigued.

"I'm on the pill, and I'm clean," you smiled at him. "What about you?"

"I'm… I'm clean too, noona," he sounded dumbfounded. "Are you sure about this?"

"There's no one I trust more, Yunho," you said, pressing your hips against his again. "I want you."

"Fuck, you're too perfect, noona."

      He positioned himself, shaft touching your core lightly. He seemed lost in thought, so you swirled your hips again, hoping to bring back his dirty, needy expression. His right hand pressed your hips down on the bed, chest coming down to meet yours as he kissed you again, hungrily. You kissed him back, both hands behind his neck as you lost yourself to the sensation of his lips against his. 

      Before you could tell, he pushed inside you, to the hilt. You moaned at the sensation, hips moving again, as if they had a mind of their own. He didn't move, though. He just looked at you, trying to get used to the sensation of being inside you, revelling in your desperate movements and cries. You never looked so beautiful to him. 

"Please move," you begged him. "I'm going crazy."

      He started moving then, slow, sensuous thrusts hitting you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You clinged to him for dear life, every thought scaping you the moment he picked up his pace. 

      He kissed you again; a messy kiss, tongues trying to meet as he started to go even harder, every movement more precise than the one before. You could do nothing more than moan his name, the feeling of him filling you too good to put into words. He fit you perfectly, his expert hips only heightening the sensation. You melted against him, your hips trying desperately to match his movements as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

      As if he could feel you were getting closer, he slowed down, hands pulling your hair once again as he bit your bottom lip and moaned.

"Noona," he groaned, trying to hold back.

"God, Yunho," you moaned against him. "Don't stop, please."

      You wrapped your legs around his hips, feet pushing him to grind on you harder. You ran one hand over his ass, trying to touch him as much as you could, squeezing the flesh. His hands were now holding tight to your hips, so tight that you could feel bruises blossoming on your pale skin. But you didn't care. In fact, it only made you want him more, feelings and movements getting more and more frenetic. 

      You were getting off on the sensation of him inside you, as well as the thoughts of how many other positions you were hoping to try out with him. His dirty talking was making you lose control of your body, his gaze so erotic you fell like you could come from just looking at it. You had never felt this way before, so overcome with need, and it felt as painful as exhilarating. 

      He pushed your left leg back, getting even deeper than before. You cried out his name, closing your eyes with force, feeling your climax coming once again. He kept his pace this time, angling his hips to hit your spot again and again. You were already seeing stars, saying sentences that made no sense as you called out after him once more.

"Yunho," you gasped. "Oh my god."

      Your high was powerful and numbing. You couldn't focus on nothing other than his grunts, telling you he was close too. You fought the overstimulation, moving your hips to meet his as you asked him to finish inside you. It seemed to be enough to push him off the edge, and soon he was biting your shoulders, coming undone. 

      He reluctantly got off of you, laying beside you and pulling you close. You were still shaking from the aftermath, and he kissed you tenderly on the temple before nuzzling into your hair. This sweet behaviour was a strong contrast to his actions, and as soon as doubts started to creep over you, his lips made sure to shut them down. 

      You kissed him back, slowly, trying to figure out how to voice your thoughts. He pulled back slightly, smiling against your cheek as he laid a small kiss there, then turning your face up to look at him. He passed his right hand through his hair, suddenly nervous. His left hand kept drawing small circles on your left shoulder, matching the movements of yours against his chest.

"I'm sorry, noona," he whispered, sounding small.

"It's okay, baby," you smiled. "We're okay."

"I just..." he trailed off, as if lost in thought, a small smile creeping once more. "I don't know how it all escalated so quickly."

"Jealousy doesn't fit your image," you joked, snuggling against him. "That's for sure."

"God, I was such an asshole,"-he held you tighter. "I don't even know why."

"Yeah, you were," you laughed. "But we're good now."

"Really?" 

"I mean, you're lying naked on my bed at god-knows-what hours. You tell me!"

"I'd say we're great, then."

      He looked down at your entangled bodies, eyes changing once more as he focused on your breathing. Leaning down to kiss you again, he used his right hand to lift your body, still on his side, just a little bit. Enough to kiss you more fiercely, needy. You pulled back, smiling, before kissing his jaw, cheek, and then his lips once more. 

      He ran his right hand over your side, soft touches between your hips and waist. You whined softly against his lips, the sound escaping before you could stop. He looked at you, desire returning to his eyes as he started kissing your jaw. His switched between kissing and biting your sensitive skin, your right hand grabbing his hair hard as your body started to react to his actions. Then, he pressed his hips on yours, his erection standing firm between your bodies as you gasped.

"Already?" you asked, making him press harder. "You're spoiling me."

"I can't help it," he laughed, nibbling your skin once again. "You're so hot, noona."

      He sucked harshly on your collarbone, a purple mark already starting to show as he blew against the spot and kissed it. You pulled his head towards yours, kissing him like your life depended on it. At the heat of the moment, it really felt like it did. The feeling of how well his body reacted to yours spurting you on as you succumbed to want.

      He started to turn to get on top of you, kissing you harder by the second. You pressed your left hand firmly on his chest, not letting him do so. He looked at you, confused, before you pulled him to you and kissed him again, tongues fighting for dominance. This time, he let you win, and you explored his mouth lazely, trying to control your pace. 

      As he tried once more to get on top of you, you pressed him hard against the bed, left leg moving over to straddle him without interrupting the kiss. As soon as you settled on the new position, his erection pressing against your inner thigh, you rolled your hips.

"Fuck," he cried out, hands holding onto your waist. "Do that again."

      Once he saw you didn't move, nor would reply, he tried to roll his hips up to meet yours.

"Please, noona," he begged. "Please just-"

      Before he could finish his sentence, you rolled your hips again, harder this time. He hissed loudly, throwing his head back as his chest lifted from the bed. His hips started to move up, meeting yours as you kept grinding down on him. You smiled at how fucked up he looked, knowing that any remaining effects of your previous drinks were far gone; you were doing this to him.

      The realization hit you fast, and you moaned as you ceased your movements, hands balancing your weight on his chest. He looked at you, desperate, and you kissed him hard. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh as he tried to make you start moving your hips again. Your right hand started caressing his skin, tracing his collarbone and going lower, lower, until you reached his shaft. It felt warm and heavy on your hand, and you held it tightly, earning a string of curses from the younger boy. You teased him, kissing him hungrily.

      When you felt his chest moving hard, breaths getting erratic, you stopped kissing him and, ever so slowly, sank down on him. You didn't move until you felt he was fully inside you, finally opening your eyes to see that his were glued to where your bodies met. You temptatively moved against him, hips rolling as you got used to his length in this new position.

      He gripped your hips hard, not knowing if he wanted to make you move faster or to stop them completely. All you knew was that he looked ruined, and you loved it. The power you felt of being able to make him feel this way was enough to get you to start moving a little faster, hips sensuously rolling against his.

"Noona," he moaned. "I'm not gonna last if you keep going like this."

"Me neither," you confessed, grinding faster.

      He started to lift his hips to meet yours, getting deeper inside you. You moaned his name, never stopping your rolling motion as you got lost in the sensation, in how good he felt like this. The sounds of him fucking into you were lewd and intoxicating, taking over your small bedroom. He held you even tighter, your nails raking against his chest and lips biting on his neck as you fell on top of him, body unable to keep going and giving in to pleasure.

      He started to move faster, harder, searching for his release too. You squeezed him involuntarily, the motion enough to have him screaming for you as he climaxed, hands slowly rubbing your sore hips and thighs. You stood on top of him until your breathings got even, the glint of sweat making him look even more beautiful to you as you pushed from his chest.

      You excused yourself, legs feeling like jelly as you tried to go to the bathroom to get cleaned up. The simple action took you a lot longer than normal, your body still coming down from the intense sex you'd just had.

      Laying down on the bed again, he pulled you closer, not wanting to let go of you. You kissed his chest as he ran his hand on your hair, the act feeling more intimate than anything else you did that night. You could feel him smiling, a small laugh rumbling from his chest as he kissed your forehead.

      You weren't sure of how things would be in the morning, but you knew that you felt safe in his embrace, and that was more than enough for now. His slowing breathing lulled you to sleep, limbs numb from how intense you had each other. He held you tightly against his chest, a soft smile crossing his face as he soon fell asleep too.

      In the morning, you got up before him. Nothing new, considering he was a sleepyhead. You took a nice, warm shower, remembering your actions of the previous night. You were glowing, sated from how well he took you. You couldn't stop smiling.

      Wearing nothing but your nightgown, you headed to the room to see if he was up. He was sprawled on your bed, naked body barely covered by the thin sheets. It felt like a sin to wake him. You'd never seen him so peaceful before. You decided to cook breakfast before doing anything else, the idea of pancakes suddenly very appealing.

      While you were finishing your plates, he appeared in the corridor, only wearing his boxers.

"Good morning, noona," he smirked.

"Good morning, baby," you smiled back, too relaxed to care about his teasing.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, suddenly shy. 

"I feel good, honestly," you answered. "And you? You know we'll have to talk about it sooner or later right?"

"Later sounds good"-he got into the kitchen, holding you from behind as he stared at what you were doing."Something smells great in here."

"I thought it'd be nice to cook you something, since you worked so hard last night," you joked, blushing.

"I could think of better things to feast on in the morning, noona."-he turned you to him, pulling you by the hands when you tried to create some distance between you.

      He kissed you softly, pushing you back against the dining table. You smiled, kissing him back and running your hands through his hair. He lifted you by your legs, placing you on the table; hands squeezing your thighs hard as he opened them, pressing closer. You started kissing him harder, breakfast long forgotten. He started to push your nightgown upwards, touching the small bruises left from the night before when, suddenly, someone started knocking on your door.

"Noona, it's Hongjoong!" 

"It's all of us!" Mingi added, and you and Yunho shared a look, started to get nervous.

"Are you up?" Hongjoong asked. "Yunho didn't come home yesterday and he seemed so out of it after your fight. We don't know where he is and honestly, we're freaking out."

      Before Yunho could say anything, you ran over to the door, worried about your friends. You opened the door, trying to fix your disheveled look as best as you could.

"Thank god you're up!" Mingi said, hugging you. "We have no idea of where he is and-"

      Mingi and the rest of the boys fell silent as they saw Yunho leaning against the kitchen counter, barely dressed. You had the decency to blush, trying to cover any apparent hickies and marks with your hair, but he just smiled at the group, walking over to where they were standing as you closed the door behind them.

"Good morning, fellas," he said, grinning at you.

      The seven boys exchanged confused looks, a few of them already smirking at the scene they encountered. You were afraid they'd tease you endlessly, and were not ready for it; not at all. Thankfully, they just laughed and said hello to their bandmate. Yunho excused himself and went to get dressed. You and Wooyoung shared a knowing look, falling into a fit of laughter, soon followed by the rest of them.

"What were you doing, noona?" Seonghwa asked, smirking at you.

"I was… We were..." you fumbled with your words, blushing hard.

"It seems like they were about to have... breakfast," Yeosang said, and you were glad he saved you from the embarrassment, even if he still teased you.

"Yeah, that's what we were doing!" you exclaimed.

"Are those pancakes?" Jongho asked, smiling. "I'm starving!"

      You smiled at the boys, offering to cook for the whole group as Yunho got dressed, hoping they wouldn't mention whatever you were doing before they arrived ever again. They seemed to be trying hard to talk about anything else, joking about how they were glad their friend was safe and sound and mentioning how boring the club got once you left.

      They started telling you tour stories, laughing at crazy fan moments and embarrassing interviews. Your chest was full of love and happiness for this group, and you smiled softly at them, saying you couldn't wait to see them performing their next release - one you'd already heard, since you were so close.

      Yunho got back, smiling down at you, and he kissed you lightly on the cheek, picking up a plate of pancakes and scrambled eggs. The boys looked him over, San's hand running over his neck in a quick motion as he decided to speak up.

"That's gonna be hard to cover," he smirked, motioning to the love bite you left there.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Yunho said, hand moving to cover the same spot his friend had touched, his ears turning red.

      If the group noticed San's teasing, they didn't show it; all too preoccupied with the table full of food to get into that. Yeosang looked up at you, smiling, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. You were as happy as you could be, knowing that everyone was treating you the same and, most importantly, knowing that Yunho didn't seem to be having second thoughts about whatever happened between you. You were still on friendly terms, you thought, and you realized you had never felt more content.

[bellakitse]

Midnight Talk about Boys

Marjan watches as whatever the other person on the phone – obviously someone TK is seeing – talks to him, whatever the other man is saying makes TK all but melt into the cushions of the couch as he leans back and stares dreamily at the ceiling.

*

When Marjan can't sleep, she finds TK in the common area talking lovingly to someone on the phone.

30 days of Tarlos - Day 9

inspired by @lauraperfectinsanity prompt here

Marjan doesn’t really know what wakes her up; she’s usually blessed with being a sound sleeper, and yet somewhere after eleven, she finds herself up, staring at the ceiling of the dormitories listening to Judd’s snores one bunk over. She tries to ignore it, closing her eyes in the hope that sleep will come again. Another fifteen minutes pass before she resigns herself to being awake. She gets up softly, not wanting to wake up her other crew members, just because she’s awake doesn’t mean they should suffer too, the call alarm can ring any moment, and sleep is precious in their line of work.

As she sits up, putting on a pair of socks, she looks around the room at everyone she cares about deeply. When she first came to Austin from Miami, she didn’t expect to find a family. Honestly, she expected more of the same she had gotten in Florida, coworkers who didn’t really believe in her, instead she’s ended up with friends that have her back no matter what. She smiles to herself as she thinks about it, snickering softly when Judd lets out a loud snore, it’s a miracle any of them can sleep through that to begin with.

Only it seems that maybe one of her crew members isn’t sleeping through it, she looks over at TK’s bunk to find it completely empty. No TK or Buttercup who has taken to always sleeping with the younger Strand no matter how many yummy treats auntie has. She’s not going to get over that personal blow anytime soon; it doesn’t matter what she or any of the rest of them do, if TK is around, it’s like the rest of them are invisible to Buttercup.

No accounting for taste, she thinks with a roll of her eyes. With her socks on, she silently leaves the dormitory, and Judd’s snores behind as she heads for the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

She has her water in hand heading for the common area, hoping a little television will help her brain unwind enough to go back to sleep when she hears TK.

“How was your day?” she hears him ask whoever he’s on the phone with, he hasn’t noticed her yet as he pets Buttercup who’s resting his head on TK’s lap, giving her time to study him.

She’s known him for months now; she’s seen ‘annoyingly cocky but good at his job’ TK, she seen him look vulnerable after he got shot and then told them about his addiction. She’s seen the ‘teasing’ TK as he jokes around with them, and she’s seen ‘worried gentle’ TK as he makes sure his dad eats. She’s even gotten used to ‘upset and anxious’ TK if one of them has a close call on the job. The TK she knows is a gentle guy, and yet it’s nothing compared to the look he has on his face as he listens to the other person on the line.

“That didn’t happen,” TK says, chuckling, his face bright with happiness. “You’re making that up.”

He listens for another moment before rolling his eyes, but the soft smile doesn’t leave his face. “You would totally make that up,” he says again, pausing to listen. “To make me smile, of course,” he says with a grin that grows as the other person on the line speaks again.

“I miss you too, baby,” he sighs softly. “I hate when our shifts don’t line up, but I finish this shift in the morning, and then I’m all yours. Are you sure you want to pick me up? I can just go to your place; I can pick up breakfast on the way so you can sleep in.”

Marjan watches as whatever the other person on the phone – obviously someone TK is seeing – talks to him, whatever the other man is saying makes TK all but melt into the cushions of the couch as he leans back and stares dreamily at the ceiling.

“Okay fine,” he says with a lazy grin. “Who am I to say no to my hot boyfriend picking me up in his hot car.”

TK laughs at the answer his boyfriend gives him at his comment. “I’m going to let you go – no, you just got off shift and need your rest. I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart.”

Marjan watches him end the call with another soft sigh. She thinks for a moment about turning around to go back to the dorms since TK hasn’t noticed her yet as he gets lost in his little lovesick world, but she’s curious about who he was talking to, and she’s never been one to leave a curiosity alone.

“So you have a boyfriend,” she says, biting down on her bottom lip when he jumps. Buttercup, who has been falling asleep on his lap, gives him the most aggravated look he can give his favorite human.

“Marjan,” TK gasps out, his hand over his heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Marjan makes an apologetic face as she walks over to him, sitting down on the other side of Buttercup, who looks at her but doesn’t do much more since TK is petting his head as an apology of his own for disturbing his sleep.

“Were you eavesdropping?” TK questions, his eyes are narrowed, but he doesn’t actually look or sound upset.

“Not on purpose, but yes,” she answers honestly, smiling when TK rolls his eyes in response.

“So are you going to tell me about the boy?” she questions again, anxious for answers. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone; you’re only ever with us, or Officer Reyes – “ she cuts herself off, her eyes going wide when TK grins back at her.

“You’re hooking up with Officer hottie?” she hisses, earning a laugh from TK.

“I was hooking up with Carlos,” TK answers, and she rolls her eyes as he emphasizes his name. The guy is hot like fire, ‘Officer hottie’ is an appropriate nickname. “Now, I’m dating Carlos.”

“Why have you been keeping this a secret?” she questions, frowning when TK shakes his head.

“I’m not,” he starts. “Not on purpose anyway. My dad knows about Carlos and me, and Michelle knows since she’s Carlos’ best friend. Paul even knows too since we’ve taken him with us to some clubs that are LGBT friendly. I haven’t been purposely hiding it from the rest of you guys. It’s just with our crazy work schedules, it’s hard to find alone time, so when we do have some, he and I tend to get lost in each other.”

Marjan nods, understanding what he means, she’s been in town for months and hasn’t gone on a single date, though how much that has to do with time, and not with maybe having a tiny crush on a certain probie, she isn’t ready to examine too deeply yet.

“He seems like a nice guy,” she offers. She’s only really seen Carlos on calls, but he’s always professional, kind, and empathetic.

“He’s amazing,” TK answers, that wistful expression from before coming back. “He’s such a good guy, funny and understanding, always patient and so loving,” TK continues with a far off look as he sings his boyfriend’s praises. “And when I’m with him, I just…” he trails off, letting out a sigh as he smiles to himself.

“Wow,” she lets out, staring at her friend in amazement. “You aren’t just dating Carlos; you’re in love with him.”

TK doesn’t deny her statement; instead, he just gives her a shrug, smiling down as he gives Buttercup another gentle head rub. She wonders how she missed this; she might not be a human lie detector like Paul, but she’s usually pretty perceptive, and somehow she’s missed a member of her new family falling in love. She thinks back to a few months ago when they almost lost him first to a gunshot and then to his doubts about belonging with them. She thinks of the scared look on his face when he bravely told them about his past, and is instantly filled with so much warmth and affection for the man sitting next to her.

“I’m really happy for you, TK,” she says softly, feeling her eyes sting from all the emotion she feels inside. “You deserve to be happy.”

TK stares at her, his own eyes looking a little wet as he swallows hard. “Thank you, Marjan,” he whispers, reaching out to touch her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “That means a lot.

They stay quiet for a moment, just the sound of Buttercup’s little puffs of air as he dreams filling the space as they get over their emotional moment.

“Okay, so I have one very important, burning question,” she starts with a smirk that has TK raising an eyebrow at her. “Officer Carlos without a shirt?” she lets the question hang meaningfully.

TK smirks back at her, his green eyes dancing with delight. “Should totally arrest himself,” he says wickedly. “It’s definitely a crime to be that hot.”

Marjan lets out a laughing shriek, laughing even louder when TK joins her.

“Seriously, Marjan, it’s a miracle I don’t choke on my own drool when I’m around him,” he says as he drops his head back on the couch dramatically.

Marjan laughs again, settling in as TK continues to speak, obviously only just getting started now that they’re on the subject of his boyfriend's beauty.

They should probably go back to the dorms and try to get some sleep, who knows if they’ll be lucky enough to get through the night without a call until their shift ends in the morning at eight. But as TK starts talking dreamily about Carlos’ eyelashes of all things, she figures she can sacrifice some sleep to watch her friend talk about his boyfriend like a high schooler with a crush.

In the morning, when she’s getting ready to leave, she thinks about all she and TK talked about as she spots Carlos waiting by the bay doors, her heart full as his face lights up just as much as her friend’s last night when TK comes down the stairs. After TK all but runs into his arms, he turns to her with a smile asking if she wants to join them for breakfast, she shakes her head no. She’s still curious about them and wants to see what they’re like together, but figures now that she knows about them, there’s time for that later. For now, she’s just happy witnessing how Carlos holds her friend close, looking at him with the same love she saw in TK’s eyes the night before.

Once they’ve left in Carlos’ cool car, she heads back upstairs, TK’s happiness inspiring her to search for her own.

She finds it still in the dorms now dressed in street clothes. “Hey probie,” she starts, her heart ticking upward when Mateo turns to her with a boyish smile. “How do you feel about you and me getting breakfast?”

[love4shinsou]

GASP! THREE ASKS IN ONE DAY! WHADDYA KNOW XD I'm just riled up for more headcannons of yours :D they're wonderful. But for now is fluff— How do the BNHA boys (Shoto, Bakugo, Izuku, Amajiki, Kirishima, and Dabi) handle an S/O that when jealous, gives them more attention and love than usual. Like a girl interacting with them and when they're gone they're all over them XD (You're choice if you want them to sneer, I prefer not to ^^')

Shoto

You two were just having a nice walk on a warm Saturday evening when this random girl came up to Shoto. She was quite racket too. .she was wearing crop top that was more like a bra and short shorts that could easily be mistaken for underwear. Shoto liked girls that knew how far to go with these things, and knew how much to cover up, but still flaunted what they had. This was definitely not a girl he would take the slightest interest in, but you though otherwise.

"Hey, Todoroki. I saw you in the sports festival and on T.V lately and I'm a fan~ Could you sign my chest??" She asked in a fliety tone while posting to her barely covered chest. Shoto was trying hard not to cringe. You grabbed his arm and held it tight, and pulled him down a little to kiss him on the lips, and on his cheek. He smiled and kissed your forehead.

The girl seemed shocked and even a little mad. She huffed nd walked away, thankfully. "Well, she was an. .experience." Shoto said to you. "Yeah. .i hope an experience we don't have to deal with anymore." You sighed. He chucked a bit and grabbed your hand, kissing it and continuing the nice walk.

Bakugo

He finally took you on a nice date on a Friday night. It took a lot of encouraging from Kirishima, but he took you to a nice, fancy restaurant.

You guys were having a good time, eting fancy food and Bakugo even being a little soft. (We all know he's secretly a soft boi, i mean. .come on)

When he was paying the check to be a nice boyfriend this girl in a ling red dress came up to him with a seductive smile. "Hey, your pretty hot. I've seen you around fighting villans and you look really cool. We should get out of here and find something a little more fun, eh??" She asked in a confident tone, like she was all that and shit.

Your smile wuickly feel and you latched onto him and started kissing his cheek and his hands. He was completely puzzled. He even had his "wait, what-" look on his face. The girl definitely didn't like this, but took the hint that you weren't going to let go, so she walked away and back to her group of friends were she told them all about you being annoying and not letting Bakugo go with her. Like he was going to do that anyways. 🙄

He was actually blushing. Being able to feel your lips on his skin and get so much affection out of nowhere.

When you two were leaving you passed the group of friends that included the girl. He stopped and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and smirked, thinking that he was about to take her somewhere to get fucked, but it was the complete opposite. "Hey, if you call my baby annoying again I'll make sure you get put in your fucking place you bitch." He growled before pulling you away.

You laid your head on his shoulder the whole drive back to the dorms and you both cuddled till you feel asleep while watching Netflix because Bakugo was being hella soft. UwU

Izuku

Uraraka was already very persistent with trying to get with Izuku, but now that you two were dating she was even more persistent. You weren't going to be the only one jealous.

You and Izuku were just chilling in the common room when Uraraka came busting in and sat next to Izuku. Which was fine with you two because you both had friends and you two weren't in the middle of anything, so you both started to talk amongst one another.

It was all chill until Uraraka started flirting with Izuku. And I mean flirting. She was calling him cute, and telling him how great he is at everything. Since Izuku got flustered by almost anything he blushed and thanked Uraraka. Now you were kinda triggered. You got up, and just Izuku thought ou were going to leave you sat down right in his lap. You straddled him and put his face to your chest. He blushed and looked up at you with a red face, but he was totally loving this.

Uraraka was completely shocked by this. Her mouth was wide and she was blushing herself. You didn't tell her to leave because you didn't think that she needed to, but you just wanted her to kbow that Izuku was yours and wasn't on sale. 👏👏🍵

He just kind of stayed there and was actually falling asleep. "Your comfy. .c-can I do this more often. ." He stuttered, his cheek pressed against your chest. You smiled at rubbed his head. "Mhm!!" You looked over at Uraraka and smiled sweetly. Yup, she wouldn't be trying anything any time soon.

Amajiki

You two were put on a date for boba tea!! The best thing to even exist. You two sat outside on a rainy day, under an umbrella the restaurant provided for outdoor seat of course and watched the rain fall, vibing and feeling aesthetic as hell.

You leaned in for a kiss, which made Tamaki blush, but he leaned in as well cuz your his girlfriend and he loves you when you were so rudly interrupted by the waitress who took your orders. "Hey, so you're super cute, so I was thinking we could go out sometime." The waitress with brown hair said, putting her hand on Tamaki's. This made him squeek and start studdering out what a response he couldn't quite get out. You looked at him and put your cup down. You cupped his squishy face with your hands and kissed his nose. He blushed furiously. "Y-y/n, w-what was that f-for. .!!" He stuttered out.

You giggled and hugged him, resting your head on his chest. He couldn't help but practically melt and rub your head. He looked back up at the waitress with a 'what do you think the answer is??' Kind of look, which took a lot of confidence on his part to do.

The waitress scoffed and walked away.

When you two were leaving she walked up to you both with two extra freshly made boba teas. "Here, one of my coworkers snitched on me about before, so my boss made me make you more boba. Here." She said, shoving the bobas towards you and Tamaki. You both gladly took themand thanked her, more like thanked her coworker and boos than her.

You two held hands all the way back to U.A because Tamaku felt so bad about the whole ordeal. You two drank some more boba tea and were just being the cutest couple at U.A you guys were.

Kirishima

You and Kirishima were granted permission to go to a gym outside of campus since the one they had at U.A was completely full, and you needed to get training in. Well, it's wants that full, it was mostly taken up by Bakugo's entitlement-

You held hands and kissed eachothers cheeks and were all giggly on the walk to the gyn, which wasn't that far from U.A actually, even though the school was literally on a big ass hill.

You trained first, Kirishima spotting you and helping you out of course. After a while of you training, you helped Kiri out with his. He trained a bit with you, fighting a bit, but not too much since it wasn't the U.A gym and then he started lifting waits and such.

You were currently spotting him on a bench press when you noticed another girl eyeing him as he lifted the waits. You ignored it and made sure he was still going strong, which of course he was. Hey, he's the manliest of men.

After he was done and he was thanking you with a kiss for spotting him the girl came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and being the nice guy he is he smiled and said hello. "Hello, can I help you with something, ma'am??" He asked sweetly, not expecting her to do what she was about to. "Sure can. I'm pretty hungry and you must be too, so I was thinking that you can take me out and let me have a bite of you. Seeing you work out over there has got me starving." The lady said, running her finger over Kirishima's bicep. He was totally shocked at this and had no idea how to respond. Nobody had said something like. .like that to him before.

At that moment you got in front of him and made grabby hands. He smiled and understood what you wanted, so he picked you up, resting your head on his shoulder. You gave him soft kisses on his shoulder and neck, making him sigh in content.

The girl grunted and walked back to whatever she was doing previously. You and Kirishima were quite done with this girls shit, you you just decided to leave, Kirishima holding you all the way back.

Dabi

The league of Villans were having a meeting with two other villans to see if they were 'good enough' to join the league.

You were sitting in Dabi's lap, not being you were jealous just because that's where he liked you. Shigaraki was currently trying to intimidate the villans, which he was actually doing pretty well.

At the end of the meeeting, the girl villan with long pink hair came up to Dabi with a blushy face. "Hello, you're scars are super cool, and you seem super cool as well. Maybe you would want to go out sometime??" She said in a soft tone, looking away from him.

He was about to say something when you got down on the floor and latched onto his leg, looking up at him and whining. He lost all interest in telling the girl of and squatting down, pulling you in his arms and holding you. He stode back up with you in his arms. "Yeah, so that's a no. And you also won't be going the league. You suck." He stated like it was nothing like he usually did.

Now, he would have gone to his room and fuck ya, but today he sat down on the couch and cuddle with you. Cone on, we all know that he's super clingy.

I think the Izuku one is my favorite- XD~Alex