#be aware that these are 3am words though so like. don’t have any expectations at all pls

[flowercrowngods]

some hurt/comfort cuddles for @t-boyeddie. because you deserve nice things and cuddles

🤍 also on ao3

Steve feels endlessly pathetic pulling up to the Munson trailer with a hammering heart at two in the morning, feeling like he has nowhere else in the world to go. It’s a lie. He knows it’s not true, knows that his brain is lying to him, knows that his thoughts got all tangled up and messy somewhere between noon and midday, knows that all he has to do is breathe through it and just get this day over with.

But he can’t breathe. And he can’t sleep. And he—

He needs a hug. He needs Eddie and his stupid, sweet, lovely koala hugs with his goddamn hair all up in Steve’s face. He needs it so badly that he can’t wait until tomorrow — and now here he is, pulling up to the trailer.

He gasps a little in the silence of the car when he spots a familiar figure sitting on the front steps, a blanket around his shoulders and a cigarette in his hand. Tears spring to his eyes — pathetic little tears that he refuses to allow right now, so he blinks them away. But the longer he looks at Eddie sitting right there, looking up at the approaching car with a smile that’s slowly growing, the more he feels ready to fall apart. And he will, if he’s not held together.

And Eddie is so good at holding him together. Steve needs him close; can’t wait even a second longer.

Steve cuts the engine and is out of the car in one swift move, walking over to wonderful, beautiful Eddie who is gloriously, miraculously awake.

His quick steps on the gravel match the loud, rapid beating of his heart, and then Eddie is getting up, closing the distance between them just as fast, until they’re crashing together in a tangle of arms and a gentle hand on the back of his head that’s pulling him close, close, closer.

“Hey, baby,” Eddie breathes into his cheek, his temple, his hair, and Steve wants to melt into him. Wants to cry now that the world smells like Eddie again, feels like Eddie again; now that the world is Eddie again. “Are you okay?”

He shakes his head where it’s still hidden in the crook of Eddie’s neck, his hands clenching in the soft, worn shirt he’s wearing to sleep. He wants to say, No, not really. Wants to say, It’s stupid. I was just lonely for a little too long. Missed you. Missed you, missed you, missed you.

But he can’t say anything. The words get lodged in his throat and the thought of speaking makes the world feel so overwhelming again, makes him feel like a failure and a fuck-up and all those things his mind tells him that he is on nights like this.

Things that he knows he isn’t. He knows! But knowledge doesn’t protect him on nights like this.

What protects him is the way Eddie sways them gently this way and that, silent in his own right — humming slightly to give Steve something to focus on. It makes his eyes sting again, so he burrow’s further into his love’s neck.

“I’ve got you. Was waiting for you, you know? Had a feeling. Just a feeling, Stevie. So glad you came.”

It’s good. It’s good he’s here. Eddie is glad. Eddie doesn’t judge him or hate him or think he’s too much, think he’s pathetic, think he should talk and explain and be as strong as they both know he can be.

Steve takes a deep breath, inhaling Eddie’s scent, his shampoo, his aftershave, the cigarette smoke and the laundry detergent. It settles him, and he can practically feel his frayed mind smoothing out, can feel his racing heart slow down, can feel his hands unclench from Eddie’s shirt as he breathes like he couldn’t all day and all night.

Once he’s calm enough that he doesn’t feel like he’s about to snap and break and crumble any second now, he slowly lifts his face and meets Eddie’s eyes. Even in the dark, illuminated only by the street lights and scarcely lit porch lamps, he looks so kind. So patient. So genuine.

So, so lovely.

“Hi,” he breathes, carding a hand through Steve’s hair, and Steve feels like a fragile little thing again — but gentler this time, because he knows Eddie is holding him. Because he knows Eddie won’t let go.

“Hi,” he croaks, wanting to try again with the words. It doesn’t feel good, doesn’t feel right. Maybe tonight isn’t for talking then.

“Do you wanna come inside? Stay the night with me? I’d hate to let you go now that I have you, Stevie. How’s that sound?”

He nods before Eddie even finished the first question, watching the smile unfold on his face until it’s full and wide, his hand not stopping its motions through Steve’s hair.

“Come on in, then, beautiful.”

Eddie leads him by the hand, leads him inside, entirely unwilling to let Steve go. He guides him through the dark trailer that Steve knows so well by now and doesn’t let go of his hand even as he makes him sit on the bed.

Steve looks up at him as Eddie steps between his legs and holds him close again, knowing that Steve loves this position. He can hear Eddie’s heart beating like this, can wrap his arms around him completely and just hold on forever and ever as Eddie plays with his hair.

“You’re pretty,” Eddie murmurs then. “And smart. And kind. And I’m incredibly lucky to have you here with me, Stevie. Do you know that?”

He does. It’s not why he’s here. It’s not why he can’t talk tonight. He just… He just needs Eddie.

So he doesn’t react, which is a language they have made for nights like this, and instead holds on even tighter around Eddie’s middle and leans back, falling onto his back on the bed and pulling a laughing Eddie with him, who gets the memo instantly and wraps his entire body around Steve.

The grounding weight of Eddie on top of him is what makes a few of the silent tears fall, because he gets to have this now. Because it’s okay. It’s good. Eddie loves him. He’s not a fuck-up.

Eddie brushes a kiss to his forehead, his nose, his cheek, and holds him. Tells him good things in a soothing tone sometimes that go right over Steve’s head because he’s busy losing himself in the steady beat of Eddie’s heart, the rise and fall of his chest that he’s now resting his cheek on, with Eddie’s arms around his shoulders. He’s focused on the vibrations of his voice that carry through his whole body and right into Steve’s. It’s a magical feeling that he wants to chase, so he trails his fingers down from Eddie’s adam’s apple to the middle of his chest, and up again, every time he talks. It makes Eddie laugh, makes him shiver, makes him brush more kisses to Steve’s forehead.

Quiet cuddles in the dark of Eddie’s room allow Steve to breathe again even as he buries his nose in Eddie’s neck, almost smothering himself just to make him laugh again, call him ridiculous, and tell him, “I love you.”

Steve smiles until he falls asleep still half on top of Eddie, who promises not to let him go. And he doesn’t. He won’t.

[theresstillgrowinghere]

I don’t often find I have much to say during chronic illness awareness months anymore. I’m tired. My words feel tired. I don’t feel like I have anything new to add. Sometimes I worry though that that in part comes from my having been in various digital chronic illness spaces for almost a decade. Of course it feels tired to me. There are things that rattle around my brain that feel so obvious and commonplace (and that have been said much more eloquently by others before me) but may still be worth expressing, just judging by the ways people in my life haven’t been able to understand

So for gastroparesis awareness month this year, there are a few things I want to note from my experiences (tw for food/eating, weight without numbers, medical trauma)

1) My relationship with food is so scarred and multifaceted. It is messy and thorny, conflicting and complicated

(I am scared of food. I miss food. I hate food. I want to eat so badly. I never want to think about eating again. Tell me in detail about how it tasted. I love food. Please don’t ask me to join you for a meal. I don’t want to miss the communal aspects of eating. I feel so disconnected and other and separate just because I don’t eat. Sometimes I do try to eat and it makes me sick. Don’t comment on it, please; it’s not helpful to scold or encourage - I feel shame either way)

2) There is no cure. There is only management. I think people understand this in theory more than actuality, because when I say this I mean please, please stop expecting any management option to be The Thing. Please don’t expect something to offer substantial improvement, even if it is a life-saving dramatic change. As I have tried to explain to people in my life, those types of interventions are often complicated and risky and, in our broken healthcare system, very difficult to access until the situation truly is dire and life-threatening. Which can mean that the body takes significant damage before getting there. Sometimes by the time you access the intervention, that damage is irreversible and the goal is just to stop further decline. It’s not making me better; it’s keeping me from getting worse. For some reason that’s difficult for people to understand

(But sometimes people do find what for them is The Thing or are The Things, and that’s an important piece of the whole picture. The problem is the persistence of unrealistic expectations among people around us)

3) My relationship with healthcare is vital but fraught and heavy. I rely on it tremendously just to stay alive. It is also my only in-person access to the world and to people, which is a weird kind of mindfuck. But I am also deeply afraid of it after so many years of trauma. I am terrified of hospitals and medical professionals. I’m sorry for the way that fear makes me irrational, makes me assume, makes me protect myself. I know so many medical professionals are so caring and kind, but it is very, very hard to go into a medical setting trusting that that will be the case

4) There are some things I wish truly were obvious. Like don’t comment on someone’s weight, ever. Don’t say you wish you could “have a little of that” to change your appearance. Don’t try to convince me to “just try to eat a little.” Trust that I know my body best. Don’t offer me unsolicited advice or recommendations. Don’t say “when you get to be my age…” because I will point out that, based on the amount of damage to my body already, it is very possible I will never reach your age. But more to the point, I am not too young to be this sick. It happens

Anyway, these are my 3am-notes-app, camped-out-on-the-bathroom-floor thoughts. It is also important to note that they exist in the context of my gastroparesis being born of and coexisting with my other chronic illnesses, and they all become so deeply entangled

Wishing everyone well. Hoping your August is kind and gentle

To everyone with gastroparesis (and other digestive disorders, really), I’m sorry your tummy hurts, and no, you actually don’t need to be very brave about it. As I heard someone say recently in a different context but definitely applies here as well, “We weren’t born to be fighters. I don’t want to be brave. I want to be okay.” I just want all of us to be okay

[defectivevillain]

struck by your lightning (idol au)

pairing: kaminari denki x reader 

reader’s pronouns: he/him

You're a reporter working at the red carpet of a national award gala. You've convinced yourself that you're doing just fine. At least, you're doing fine until you interview Kaminari.

notes: since this fic is both a chat fic and a regular fic, the formatting is better over on ao3. but, I wanted to post it here too :P

Against all odds, you’re the agency member selected to serve as a reporter on the red carpet at the biggest gala of the year. There will be musicians, actors, and a plethora of other celebrities in attendance. The very thought of having to interact with those kinds of people makes you extremely nervous. It’s an amazing opportunity, of course. You just hope you can live up to the public’s expectations.

You end up spending the week before the gala drafting interview questions. You’ve decided to lean into a more fun and lighthearted type of interview. No doubt, the guests in attendance will be accosted with all sorts of personal questions throughout the night. You hope it’ll be refreshing for them to get asked noninvasive questions.

As for your attire, you’ve been provided an agency-regulated outfit to wear. It’s a suit- rather luxurious, but nothing too eye-catching. Ultimately, the celebrities will be wearing far more flamboyant and attention-grabbing outfits. You’ll fade into the background, with any luck. Despite that knowledge, however, you’re a bit nervous. You’re not a stranger to being on camera, but the thought of your interviews being posted to Youtube makes you pretty anxious. Unlike live television, platforms like Youtube can immortalize content. Your embarrassing moments will live on forever. You grimace to yourself. No pressure, right?

Amazingly enough, you end up being fine. You get to meet and speak with famous figures like All Might, Shoto, and even Shota Aizawa. The interviews aren’t awkward, somehow. You do notice the celebrities all relax after you ask your first stupid question. They don’t seem to expect things like: “What’s your favorite thing to do in your free time?” or “Favorite movie to watch at 3am?” That only makes the interactions all the more pleasant. You even receive murmured words of gratitude from a few of them.

You’re fixing your hair in the reflection of a handheld mirror provided to you when there’s a sudden presence in front of you. Admittedly, you haven’t had much of a break between interviews- the red carpet has been rather busy the entire time. You decide to take advantage of the moment’s respite you’re given. “Sorry, I’m fixing my hair,” you decide to murmur, taking one final look in the mirror before handing it to the assistant standing behind you. “Okay. Hey, how are you?” You look up, only to find yourself staring at Kaminari Denki. The Kaminari Denki- the idol with over thirty million listeners and sold-out concerts across the world. You’re certain that you’re going to fumble your words several times in front of him. It’s not even like you’re a fan of him- you’re just brutally aware of how immensely popular he is.

“I’m good,” Kaminari responds, an easy smile on his face. You take a moment to look him up and down, raising an eyebrow at the sleek white suit he’s wearing. It’s perfectly fitted, unsurprisingly. There’s an expensive watch- likely worth more than your entire salary- on his wrist. “It’s crazy to be here.”

“I’m sure!” You remark, wincing at how your voice sounds. It sounds a bit too much like your fake customer-service voice. You take a deep breath and try to recollect yourself. You’re supposed to be here; you have the experience needed for the situation. “It’s not your first rodeo, though, is it?”

“Nope,” Kaminari answers, pushing a piece of hair out of his face. Cameras flash around the two of you. Kaminari is certainly used to it. You, on the other hand? Not so much. You’re blinking stars out of your eyes as you try to listen to him. “I was at last year’s gala, too.”

“Lucky you,” you say with a strange mix of sincerity and humor. Thankfully, you’re holding onto a placard, so you aren’t tempted to do anything stupid with your hands like shooting finger-guns at him. “Hey, what’s your best tip for not making a complete fool of yourself on the red carpet? I’m asking for a friend, definitely not for myself.”

Kaminari laughs at that. “You’re doing just fine, don’t worry!” He’s just as cheerful in person as he is depicted online. Well, it appears the Internet is sometimes right about things, you think to yourself. Kaminari squints for a moment, evidently contemplating what to answer with. “My biggest tip, though… I think I’d just try to remember that everyone here is human. We’re all nervous. Some are just better at hiding it.”

“That’s a pretty good tip, actually,” you acknowledge with a nod. “Alright, well… Do you have anything coming up that you’re looking forward to? I’m sure the audience would love to know.” You lean back towards the camera and wink. Kaminari blinks at you for a few seconds, as if distracted.

“Well, I do have an album coming soon,” the idol starts, a mischievous smirk growing on his face. You can practically feel the paparazzi off to the side waiting with bated breath. “But I can’t share the details.”

“Not even for me?” You put on your best puppy eyes and you swear that, for a moment, Kaminari’s facade cracks. You’re quick to reassure him that you’re just joking, however. “Kidding, of course. That’s great to hear. I’m sure your fans will be pleased. Maybe I’ll give it a listen.”

“You will?” The idol seems pretty surprised and you’re not sure why. It’s not like the offer is tedious or taxing. It would be easy enough- you listen to music a lot throughout your days.

“Sure,” you shrug, suddenly feeling a little flustered. “You’ve been very kind. You’re pretty cool and down-to-earth, too.” You’re sure that your expression may be falling a little far away from professional respect, but you can’t quite control it. Kaminari is just so easy to talk to.

“Thanks.” You’re not sure what else to say- especially when faced with his insistent gaze- so you look down at your placard for any last-minute questions you can throw in. Your eye catches on the one stupid question you wrote down and you huff a laugh.

“Okay, so… one last question,” you say to the idol. Thankfully, Kaminari doesn’t seem annoyed at the prospect. He seems pretty easygoing, all things considered. His agreeableness makes your job much easier, admittedly. “Pancakes or waffles?”

“Pancakes, one hundred percent,” You gasp in mock offense and place a hand over your heart. Kaminari crosses his arms over his chest and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I see you prefer waffles. Can’t imagine why.”

“Waffles are fu- freakin’ amazing, excuse you,” you say, only slightly fumbling in your attempt to censor your cussing. The idol notices and grins. “Do pancakes have pockets? Didn’t think so.” You smile smugly. Kaminari looks entirely indignant at the thought.

“So?” Kaminari asks. “Pancakes can just as easily have syrup and toppings-” Before the idol can finish his sentence, someone places a hand on his shoulder and whispers in his ear. Kaminari nods and then turns back to you, an apologetic expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, I have to get moving,” he frowns, as if genuinely bothered by the idea of ending the conversation. You immediately shake your head to reassure him that he doesn’t need to apologize. If anything, you should be the one apologizing.

“Sorry for keeping you,” you grimace, taking a moment’s glance around your immediate area. It’s as if your surroundings are crashing back down on you and you begin to realize the scale of the entire event. It was easy to forget when faced with Kaminari’s intent gaze.  “Thanks for the interview.”

“Of course,” Kaminari responds, looking frighteningly sincere. There’s an unreadable expression on his face as he stares at you, apparently incapable of tearing his eyes away from you. Eventually, there’s someone at his shoulder again and the idol nods. He turns back to you. “Love ya.” Kaminari grins and winks.

“Love ya,” you respond habitually. The idol then walks away, evidently on to the next media outlet or celebrity. You wait a few moments before turning back to the camera and putting your head in your hands. The placard slips to the ground and, in your embarrassment, you don’t even notice. You’re too busy imagining the angry Tweets from Kaminari fans. Ugh.

Against all odds, you manage to get rid of your unease and go through the motions throughout the rest of the night. Thankfully, you’re only working the red carpet- not the whole event itself. So, instead of going into the rather fancy event hall, you can traipse back home and wallow in your embarrassment and humiliation.

When you get home, you make yourself dinner and have a bit of dessert for surviving that red carpet unscathed [well, your pride isn’t unscathed, but that’s a different story.] You’re dreading the media attention you might have received, but ultimately, you decide to open Twitter anyway. Kaminari is trending, unsurprisingly. However, it seems there’s another tag trending: #Reporter. Dread coils in your chest and you click on the tag before scrolling down to the first Tweet.

______________________________________________________________

angie | @kamisimpsimp

a valid reaction to kaminari, tbh

[reporter.gif]: A GIF of you turning to look at the camera and putting your head in your hands.

2.8k comments | 114k retweets | 498k likes

______________________________________________________________

Heart racing, you scroll down to the next Tweet.

______________________________________________________________

surprised pikachu face | @kamipikakami

guys i think i might have to side with the reporter on this one… waffles are absolutely better than pancakes

1k comments | 230k retweets | likes

____

jj | @dendendenki

In response to @kamipikakami

are you fucking WRONG

207 comments | 49k retweets |107k likes

____

surprised pikachu face | @kamipikakami

In response to @dendendenki

#TeamWaffles

24 comments |2.4k retweets | 8.9k likes

______________________________________________________________

no. 1 kaminari stan | @narinaridenkki

Kaminari seemed rly comfortable,,, thx reporter-chan for taking care of him 🙏

80 comments | 6.9k retweets |43k likes

____

alex | @kaminarunaronari

In response to @narinaridenkki

“reporter-chan” 💀

2 comments | 8 retweets |23 likes

______________________________________________________________

Well, those aren’t so bad. You were expecting far worse, honestly. You continue to scroll- which, in hindsight, is your fatal mistake.

______________________________________________________________

stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y

okay but is it just me or was there some tension there…

[interview.jpg]: A screenshot of Kaminari standing next to you during the interview.

657 comments | 34k retweets | 107k likes

____

just thinking abt kaminari | @denk1kam1nar1

In response to @heyheyh3y

kaminari looked whipped fr

14 comments | 673 retweets | 1.3k likes

____

stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y

In response to @denk1kam1nar1

RIGHT ?? mf glanced over his shoulder at the reporter as he walked away…

8 comments | 201 retweets | 877 likes

____

just thinking abt kaminari | @denk1kam1nar1

In response to @heyheyh3y

kaminari seemed flustered when the reporter winked, too 😭

0 comments | 4 retweets | 60 likes

______________________________________________________________

i said what i said. | @urfavescouldnever

this is why i love kaminari denki- his gay ass is just so immensely relatable.

[kami.gif]: A GIF of Kaminari walking away, but not before turning to look over his shoulder at you once more. His cheeks are ever so slightly pink.

7k comments | 403k retweets | 1.2m likes

____

jj | @dendendenki

In response to @urfavescouldnever

to be fair, i’d be looking back at the reporter too…  he’s hot

409 comments | 3k retweets | 18.2k likes

____

i said what i said. | @urfavescouldnever

In response to @dendendenki

that’s factual

0 comments | 21 retweets | 451 likes

______________________________________________________________

Admittedly, you’d never noticed that Kaminari had looked back at you. It’s not like that means much, though. There could be a million different explanations for that. Perhaps he just wanted to make sure his assistant was walking behind him. Surely that’s it.

Surprisingly enough, people seemed to be well-receiving of your interviewing skills. That’s good, you think to yourself. You certainly hadn’t expected for people to be commenting about your looks- you figured you would slip to the background when standing next to Kaminari.

You think about the Tweets you just scrolled through. Ultimately, you wish they were true- that Kaminari was actually interested in you. That’s nothing more than a desperate hope, though. It was an interview and nothing more.

You drown your doubts in ice cream and watch the rest of the award show. A few of the artists you listen to are in attendance and you’re curious to see if they win anything. Kaminari ends up winning an award and you smile at the ecstatic look on his face. The rest of the event passes rather slowly, as there are frequent commercial breaks. You find your eyes slipping closed more often than not and it doesn’t take long for you to drift off into sleep.

You’re woken by a loud buzz from your phone. You sleepily reach a hand out and grab your phone, turning it on and wincing at the sudden brightness. It seems you slept for a few hours. There’s a notification sitting on your lock screen. You frown and tap it.

______________________________________________________________

Unknown Number: hey, is this the reporter from doublevision?

______________________________________________________________

Immediately, your heart begins to race. Was your number leaked? You don’t remember ever sharing that information, but you could have slipped up somewhere… You’re so preoccupied that your next few responses are subconsciously typed and sent.

______________________________________________________________

You: um..

You: who is this?

Unknown Number: kaminari denki

______________________________________________________________

You can’t resist a disbelieving laugh at that. This asshole woke you up from your much-needed nap… just to pretend to be Kaminari? That’s hilarious. It’s also immensely frustrating, but somehow, you’re feeling generous today and you don’t cuss them out.

You: haha. nice try.

Unknown Number: wdym i’m literally kaminari denki

You: and i’m the mf president

Unknown Number: i’m being serious 😭

You: yeah, me too, dude

You: you def have the wrong number methinks

Unknown Number: i’m actually kaminari dneki//????!?!??!?

You: yeah sure, kaminari dneki ��

Unknown Number: shUT UP

Unknown Number: hold on

Unknown Number: you can block me after this if you want

You: why would i do that when i can just block u rn?

Unknown Number: WAIT PLS

Unknown Number: [selfie.jpg]

______________________________________________________________

You frown and squint at the attached photo. Surely enough, it’s Kaminari Denki. He holds a peace sign up to the camera and there’s an easy smile on his face. You’re still not convinced, however. The picture could easily be an older one. This is clearly just a fan trying to mess with you.

You’re almost about to shut your phone off when a glimmer in the picture catches your eye. You zoom in, only to find Kaminari holding the award that he just won a few hours ago. You blink, convinced you’re seeing things. When you look at the photo again, you realize that he’s wearing the white suit from earlier. You’re still a bit unconvinced, so you zoom in on the clock conveniently located in the corner of the shot. 20:35. You glance down at your watch and a shiver rolls down your spine. Sure enough, the time is the same. It appears this is actually Kaminari Denki.

Fuck.

____

chapter 2

[imaginesupply]

Spencer Reid Imagine: Just peachy

Spencer Reid Imagine: Just Peachy

Summary : Reader (female pronouns, no Y/N, third person) is hosting dinner night at her apartment for the time. Spencer volunteers to help with the preparations. Derek is a good friend.

Warnings: Smut (handjob – male receiving, cum in pants), sub!Spencer, the Lord’s name in vain (only once), one mild curse word. (Because some of this shows Spencer’s thoughts, I had to refrain from using slang words for bodily parts and bodily fluids sometimes. Please don’t judge me.)

Word count: About 1.5k

Note: I wrote this really quickly when I was taking a break from working on my thesis (how Spencer went through the PhD pain thrice willingly, I will never understand) and my brain was fried. Consequently, this is the fic equivalent of the snack you make at 3am when you’re tipsy.

"Remember what we discussed?" Derek asked an exasperated Spencer for umpteenth time as he pulled over in front of their new co-worker's apartment building.

"Yes," Spencer groaned softly, adjusting his hair. "I have an eidetic memory, you know."

Next to him, Derek chuckled. "I know. No need to be so defensive," he teased, "just be yourself and there's no way she won't fall for you."

"Actually, it's not that -"

Derek cut him off before he could say anything more. "Bullshit. It really is that easy, pretty boy and" - he leaned over, grabbing Spencer's satchel from the backseat - "while everyone is due to arrive at seven, I can divert the rest of team if you just send me a text."

Spencer frowned, staring at his friend like he had grown two heads. "Why would I want you to stall -" He stopped in the middle of the sentence, his eyebrows rising high up his forehead and his cheeks turning pink when he finally realized. "Yeah, no, yes" - Spencer shook his head clearing his now corrupted mind - "what I mean to say is that I would definitely text you but - nevermind. Bye." Then he escaped from the car as if it were on fire, almost tripping on the laces of his converse.

Not even thirty minutes had gone by and Spencer already knew he was in trouble.

They walked through the farmers' market, Spencer carrying the fast filling linen bag. She guided him through the crowd, making them stop at the stalls that held anything of interest and buying various ingredients for dinner: vegetarian gratin and peach pie.

Eventually, they stopped at the fruit stand where she approached and asked the vendor if they could taste the peaches. Though they were out of season, they were looking quite ripe. The old man handed her a peach with a smile. "There you go."

She thanked the man and pulled back the sleeve of her lightweight jacket before taking a bite. That was the exact moment Spencer realised this had been a terrible idea. He should never have listened to Derek. He should not have offered to come earlier and help make dinner.

She took in the scent and hummed against the fruit, softly so, that only he would hear and erotically enough that he had to swallow down the saliva gathering in his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing. She bit down on the fruit, the tips of her lips curling up and then licked off a thin trail of juice along the inside of her wrist and forearm, eyes closed. Then, as if nothing, she turned to the old man. "They're delicious!"

She turned back to Spencer and he noticed she was sporting her usual slightly bemused grin. "Have a taste, darling." She turned the pale fruit in her hand and offered it to him, an expectant look in her eyes. And there, in the middle of the busy farmers’ market, Spencer felt like a teenager whose girlfriend had just slipped her hand down his pants for the first time. Which, of course, he had never experienced so he didn't actually know what that would feel like.

Knowing better than to disobey her, Spencer leaned forward into her hand and took a bite of the remaining fruit, leaving behind only the endocarp, while adjusting his satchel to hide the prominent bulge in his crotch. It was the way she looked and the way she looked at him, the way she made him feel like-

“Are you alright?” She asked.

Spencer swallowed the fruit, his throat tight. “Just peachy.”

If he thought that was torture, nothing had prepared him for the actually cooking part. The space between the cabinets and the kitchen isle was narrow, which meant their bodies always brushed whenever she passed behind him, and he was already a sweaty, blushing mess.

Just be yourself, he reminded himself of what Derek had told him. "Hey, umm," Spencer stammered, drawling off, "did you know that until refrigerators were invented in 1834, salt was widely used to preserve meat."

He heard her soft laugh behind him, immediately turning around at the sound before realising she was bent over the counter, trying to reach something on the highest shelf and he had just inadvertently placed himself right behind her backside.

For some reason he couldn't even begin to explain, his first instinct had been to touch. Luckily, though, he had managed to stop his hands mid air before he could effectively ruin everything, but now all he could see was the black fabric of her pants stretching over the roundness of her hips and the warm pressure against him and-

"Spencer!"

He started, finally looking away. "What?"

She chuckled again. "As much as I appreciate your ability to be a walking encyclopaedia, I'd really enjoy it if you could put your height to good use and pass me the pie dish."

"Of course." Spencer shook his head, clearing his mind. "Yeah, I can do that."

She stepped aside, allowing him to grab the item from the cabinet. "Thank you, darling," she said, grinning.

"No problem," Spencer quipped, wiping his clammy hands on his leg pants as he subtly made sure his predicament wasn't too noticeable.

"Great! You can go ahead and knead the dough before stretching it over the dish."

"Yes, ma'am." His brown eyes went wide when he realised that he'd just said it out loud. It wasn’t even his fault. There was just that natural authority about her that made him very compliant.

She laughed once more, softly, looking up at him almost endearingly. "You can call any m word you like, darling."

His start stopped in his chest. Was she flirting with him? He had noticed her body language did not indicate repulsion and she did touch him more than was strictly necessary, but he didn't think she'd actually flirt with him. Spencer considered that he might really have to send Derek the text, but he tried not to get his hopes up too much. He was already nervous enough as it was.

She came up behind him, taking a look at the dough he had absentmindedly tortured and shook her head in amusement. "No, darling, not like that," she cooed gently, coming up closer until her body was pressed up against his. Spencer gulped nervously, acutely aware of the way her breasts were being squashed against his side.

Then her hand wrapped around his over the dough. "You do it like this, Spencer," she whispered. Her fingers lodged themselves between his, applying light pressure, making them bend to her will. "You need to feel it. Are you feeling it?"

Spencer was certainly feeling it, but not in his hand. He would almost be amazed at how a simple touch on his hand could make him radiate warmth and make all the blood in his brain rush to his dick, if he weren’t becoming so lightheaded.

She kissed his arm over the fabric of his shirt. "Here, let me show you." He felt her free hand slide across his stomach and down to his belt. His body jerked at the touch.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice raspy and sounding like a whimper.

Her hand stilled over the now undone buckle. "You want me to stop?"

"No!"

It came out embarrassingly loud and he might have felt ashamed for it, hadn't she managed to remove his belt and open his pants in record time. She pressed her palm to the front of his boxers, cupping his bulge. The fabric was thin and damp, doing little to numb the sensation of her touch. Spencer knew there was already a stain from the pre-ejaculatory fluid he was leaking, but he couldn't get himself to look down. Two senses at once would be too overwhelming and he was already trembling.

At first, she just ran her the tip of her finger up and down his length, making sure to trace the small slit where the wet fabric clung to the damp head. He shivered against her and let out the cutest, most delicious whimper she had ever heard.

"Do you like how it feels?"

"Yes." He choked out the word. His eyes were shut tight, focusing on the sensation but then she surprised him, sliding her hand inside his boxers. And, oh God! Spencer panicked, if her hand alone already felt this good, how could he possibly survive being inside her - "Stop," he moaned urgently, his hand frantically rising to grab hold of hers but it was too late - it was too good.

"Oh, my darling boy," she sighed gently, pressing another kiss to arm as his dick pulsed in her fingers, making a mess of her hand and his boxers.

"I am so -" He didn't know what exactly he was apologising for and he didn't have the time to find out. The bell rang while he was still enjoying the aftermath of his first non-solo orgasm.

Panic set in. He had never gotten around to text Derek.

"Don't worry, darling," she said reassuringly before sliding her hand out of his boxers and bringing it to her mouth to lick it clean. "I'll go get the door and you go clean yourself. Don't want everyone to know how naughty you really are, do you darling?"

[sleepy-belphie]

I have a request if you’re up for it. An MC who just arrived in the Devildom who’s lover just dumped them the day prior. The bros know MC isn’t emotionally or romantically available at the time but the bros still fall in love regardless. How will the bros handle the situation? Thank you! 🙏💗

Hi! I sort of took this idea and ran with it and wrote basically a headcanon short story for each bro lmao. Sorry I got a bit carried away but I hope you like this and it satisfies you! :) 

Also thank you so much @midnight-dome for the help with Asmo, you’re a lifesaver

Tags: @kawaiiblack

~~~~~

Lucifer:

The success of the program depends on your wellbeing

So he checks in on you every other day like clockwork 

“Is there anything you need to make your stay more comfortable?”

You always say no

At first, he’s glad you’re staying in 

Because it means less trouble for him

But when you skip all of your classes one day, he comes to your room ready to give you a firm reminder of your tasks here

He’s about to knock when he hears you sob 

Now, Lucifer has heard a lot of crying in his life

But he’s never heard someone sound so completely broken

He shocks himself when he turns on his heels and walks away

He shocks himself even more when he texts the group chat and demands everyone leaves you alone for the day

That evening he comes into your room with a small plate of food

By then you were are least on top of your sheets

You knew he was gonna ask the same question as always

But this time, his words were different

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Help?” 

He simply nods

And though he didn’t outright say what he meant by help, you knew

“I...don’t know?”

“Hm, okay. I’m going to listen to some music in my study. The door will be unlocked should you wish to join me.”

Then he’s gone

The few precious moments Lucifer isn’t working, he prefers to not be disturbed

So why on earth did he invite you to join him in his study?

He doesn’t have time to ponder it because the door opens and you come in with a blanket wrapped around you

The first night you both listen in comfortable silence

A few nights in, you start asking Lucifer about the records he puts on and he has no qualms educating you on it

On night 10 you tell him about the breakup

Once you’re done he, again, asks the same question

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

‘You’ve done more than enough to help me Lucifer, thank you.”

He finds himself blushing from the sincerity in your eyes and the warmth in your smile

That night you fall asleep before the record finishes

Surely you’d wake up aching if he left you in a chair

So he picks you up, carries you to your room, and tucks you into bed carefully

He tells himself he’s doing it for Diavolo

It’s for the program, this is his job

He’s gonna need time to accept his own feelings before he can tell you anything

For now, he’ll keep doing his “job” and spending evenings with you

Mammon:

He didn’t want to be your babysitter

He was a busy guy! He had stuff to do, money to make, things to steal

Some days he gets Beelzebub to keep an eye on you so he can do what he wants

One night in particular he heads to your room to make sure you won’t interfere with his plans

“Yo! The Great Mammon has things to do so don’t-”

He pauses when he sees you sitting on your bed with your headphones plugged into your laptop

He would have assumed you were just watching a sad movie by the tears streaks on your face

But the pain in your eyes…

He’s seen that look before

His brothers held that same look the day they fell from Heaven and lost Lilith

Mammon sits on the bed and you jump, finally noticing him

You expected him to make fun of you but instead, he grabs the tissue box on your bedside table and hands it to you

He glances at your laptop to see what you were watching and sees a paused video of you and someone else

You tell him about the breakup and Mammon listens closely

“What a jerk! Ya deserve better than that! I’d teach ‘em a lesson if they ever showed their face around here!”

You smile for the first time since he came in the room and he feels like he’s done something right

“How about we get some late-night food? I know a 24-hour restaurant with the best baked newt ever. Your treat.”

He’s shocked when you agree

He makes a point to hang out with you more often

He can’t recall exactly when you went from “a human” to “his human” 

Maybe it was when you held his hand while you erased all your photos and videos of your ex from your computer

Or when you texted him at 3am because you couldn’t sleep and before he could even think about it he was up and on his way to your room

Or when he spotted you in one of his jackets while walking home from RAD

But his greed was kicking in and he wanted you to be his and only his

However, much like he puts himself first, he knows you need to do the same

So though his nature and mind wants to kiss you silly and have you for himself

Part of him knows he’ll ruin things if he lets his greed take over

So he’ll fight his nature and try his best to be patient

Leviathan:

He had been playing one of his games online

He’s on a big winning streak and feeling a bit cocky

He sees he’s been matched with someone else so he gets into gamer mode 

Then he loses the first round

He’s a bit shocked and pissed that his streak was now broken but he has to prove his superiority to whoever this opponent was

So he rematches them

And loses again

And again

He loses 7 rounds in a row

By this point he is fuming

So like any salty gamer he sends a very lengthy, angry message to their inbox

Accusing them of using cheats and hacks because there was no way anyone was more skilled than him at this game

He gets a reply a few minutes later

“Um.....is this Leviathan? Avatar of Envy? It’s MC…”

You knew it was Levi because his username is the same across all his social media platforms

Cue Levi barreling into your room a minute later

“How are you so good!? You’re cheating, aren’t you!? You cheater!’

You weren’t cheating, you just had been playing games day in and day out to distract yourself so you got really good at it

Levi all but demands you to come to his room and show him what you know

You were already playing all night anyway so why not play with someone? 

Initially, Levi would have you come over just to show him your tactics 

(Also to get some team wins on his stats because he never has anyone to play with)

But you were actually pretty chill for a normie

Maybe if he exposed you to his otaku ways you would take to them and he wouldn’t be the only one in the house anymore!

You don’t become an otaku but you do get invested in almost every anime he shows you

He starts inviting you over for midnight premieres of new episodes

He starts buying extra merch because what if you wanted one?

He was used to disproving looks from his brothers when he mass buys stuff from Akuzon

But you only smile and listen when he tells you about his new special edition item

You never once judged him and his unconventional ways

This epiphany makes him extra nervous for your weekly hangouts

It was only a matter of time before you came across a break up in an anime

When the episode ended you told him about your break up and how the protagonist reminded you of yourself because they also were taking a break from love

Levi has seen this anime before actually

He remembers how the protagonist reacted to a side character confessing to them and it went bad

So while he knows he likes you, he holds off on saying anything because the last thing he wants is to be a bad story arc in your life

Lucky for him he’s always a flustered blushing mess so you shouldn’t suspect a thing

Satan:

He is the Avatar of Wrath so whenever there is rage, he is aware

He feels anger radiating through the house one day and thinks his brothers are just fighting again

Imagine his surprise when he realizes the source of the anger is coming from your room

He walks in and sees you throwing things around and screaming, your room was destroyed

He sees you’re about to step on some glass and instantly swoops in and picks you up so you don’t hurt yourself

But then you curl up against him and burst into tears

He stands there, not quite sure what to do 

He ends up sitting on the bed and letting you cry for a while

You word vomit about your break up and he listens carefully and notes the anger welling up inside you as you speak

He knows all too well what anger can do to someone and a fragile human shouldn’t have to go through that

“Would you like some tea?”

He can spare 30 minutes for some small talk with the human if it meant that you wouldn’t be left in your thoughts

You look at him like he has three heads but agree because your room is a mess and you don’t wanna deal with it right now

Tea time becomes a daily occurrence and soon enough it escalates to full-on hangouts

Going to the bookstore, going to cat cafes, going wherever you wanted to really

One time you both took a day trip to the human world

Lucifer wasn’t happy to find out his brother and you were gone for an entire day but he lets it go when he sees that you’re smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks

What Satan didn’t expect was how these outings made him feel

He finds himself distracted from his books because he can’t stop thinking about how cute you looked holding that black cat at the cafe

Or how happy you looked when you took him to that ice cream shop in your hometown that you really love

He wakes up and you’re the first thing to pop into his mind

He’s not dumb, he knows he’s fallen in love

But he also knows this isn’t the right time, you aren’t ready

So he’ll keep being there for you as a friend

And if you ever want him to be there as something more, he’ll happily oblige

Asmodeus:

There was a movie night at the House of Lamentation

Today’s movie was an action movie, courtesy of Mammon

Amidst all the face punching and explosions, there was a budding romance between the main characters

After the third obnoxious makeout scene, you leave the room claiming you need to go to the restroom

But you leave just a *little* too fast and Asmo can feel something is up

And he thrives on gossip so he intends to find out what is it

He leaves the room a few minutes later and catches you in the hallway, determined to get you to spill the tea

You tell him about the breakup

He wasn’t prepared for the tea to be so bitter

“Oh. Well, you know what’s good for that? Face masks!” 

He had to save face somehow and beauty was his default

He’s a bit shocked when you agree but you both ditch movie night to do face masks and talk a bit

He decides to share a couple of bad date experiences he’s had to make you feel better

“Trust me, you haven’t felt embarrassment until you have someone vomit Enfield brains on your new pants and shoes while at one of the hottest clubs in the Devildom.”

You spent the entire night giggling and listening to his stories

Devildom products are surprisingly effective on your skin so you keep asking Asmo to show you new products

Plus his company is nice

Self-care days become a common occurrence

Then those self-care days become self-care sleepovers

He starts intentionally waiting to try anything new because he wants you to be there when he does

He buys more of those scented candles you told him smelled nice

A few weeks later you’re having a self-care sleepover again and you have this really cute focused look on your face while painting your nails

He knows he likes you, but this was different than his usual attraction

He didn’t want to fuck you

Well he did but not just fuck you

He wouldn’t mind if there was something more

But you routinely ended your self-care nights by yelling ‘Fuck love!’ at the top of your lungs and laughing

So he knows now isn’t the time and he’s actually okay with that

You were a sight to behold regardless of his relationship status with you

But he hopes you’ll indulge in him one day

Beelzebub:

Mammon keeps pushing his human watching duties on Beel

But he doesn’t really care because he’s being paid in cheesecake

After his third day of keeping an eye on you, he notices you aren’t eating much

Being the Avatar of Gluttony, this is basically a crime

He starts bringing extra snacks with him when he hangs out with you

“I think the chocolate flavor is better than the vanilla. What do you think?”

He actually doesn’t have a preference 

He just wants to know which snacks you like more so he can bring more of them

He makes a game out of it so you don’t think about how much you’re eating

“It motivates me to work out longer when I get a snack, could you help me?”

You sit on his back and after every pushup, you both eat a bit of whatever snack he has

He keeps going until he thinks you’ve eaten a decent amount

Or you say you’re getting full

Belphie notices that Beel is refilling his snack stash more often but he doesn’t say anything

Beel feels an immense sense of accomplishment when you finish your plate at dinner a few days later

Soon after you tell him about the breakup

“It hit me hard but you made it easier to cope, Beel. These hangouts are the highlight of my day so thank you.”

There’s a certain pang Beel gets in his stomach when he’s really hungry

Somehow your words made that pang happen in his chest

But this didn’t hurt him, quite the opposite actually

He felt good, he felt happy

It was strange for his stomach to be the quiet one while his heart went wild

But this wasn’t a change he minded too much

He wasn’t sure what to make of it but he knows he wants to figure it out with you

And he’ll take his time doing so because he liked how things were now

Belphegor:

He’s intrigued by you after the first week of your stay

He’s never seen a human who slept as much as he did

Frankly, he was impressed

Until Lucifer informed everyone about your recent breakup and made it clear to not upset you

That’s when Belphie realized these were not the leisurely naps he takes, but depression naps

One day he sees you sleeping in the living room and you looked so distressed

Sleeping was meant to be a peaceful state but you looked so unhappy

So he wakes you up

“You’re in my sleeping spot.”

You weren’t in his sleeping spot.

“Oh sorry, I’ll move-”

“You’re already here. We can both fit.” 

Before you can protest he’s all comfy next to you and falling back asleep

Having another person next to you was kind of comforting so you let it go and go back to sleep

What you didn’t know was Belphie could partially influence your dreams

He can make them more pleasant but he can’t control what you dream about

He knows it works when he wakes up and you have a relaxed expression on your sleeping face

You wake up soon after looking confused

“Good dream?”

“I think? I had a dream I rode a unicorn to the moon then carved my initials into it?”

Napping together in the living room becomes a routine

And every time you woke up you told him about the dream you had with a small smile

A few weeks later he notices he no longer has to influence your dreams for them to be good

So he leaves you be and instead curls up in the attic for his afternoon nap

He wakes up a bit when he feels someone lay down next to him

It’s probably Beel

“Why didn’t you tell me you moved napping spots?”

His eyes open and he looks over to see you pouting at him

“I just sorta ended up here.”

“Well, I can’t nap without my cuddle buddy now can I?”

You’re teasing him and he should be annoyed

But he’s blushing

He spoons you to hide that fact, resting his forehead on your shoulder

But while your dreams were getting better, it didn’t mean you were ready to move on

So he just enjoys his intimate cuddling sessions with you and tries not to think too hard about the fact that he really likes how your body fits against his

[lockefanfic]

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“I was told there would be dicks here.”

You are a little surprised by the straightforwardness of Nayeon’s statement, but given that the only other occupant of the room was fast asleep on her lap, you supposed she didn’t really need to watch what she was saying.

“You said you’d invite plenty of guys to this party for me. But not one of them was worth fucking,” she continues.

“That’s because your standards are too damn high,” Jeongyeon says as she re-enters the living room after seeing the last of the party’s guests off at the door. She offers you a warm smile and a peck on the lips before cuddling next to you on the couch, draping her arms around your waist and laying her head on your chest below your chin.

“My darling wife is right,” you agree, “it’s not my fault that you only want to fuck actors and k-pop idols.”

Nayeon lets out a snort of disapproval from the loveseat. She puts an exaggerated pout on her lips as she begins to idly stroke Sana’s hair. The Japanese girl had had one drink too many, it seemed, and had fallen into a deep slumber, snoring softly on her friend’s lap.

“It’s 3am,” she observes, “I ought to have a dick in me right now.”

“Jesus you’re thirsty as fuck,” Jeongyeon quips.

“Girls have needs,” Nayeon explains. “I was really hoping to bag one tonight, but alas, here I am without a dick in sight.”

“Well there’s at least one dick around,” you say with a smile, almost on reaction, the words leaving your mouth before you had time to think them through . The smile quickly fades when you realize just what you’d implied.

The awkward silence that follows in reality probably only lasted a few seconds, but to your mind, which was running at a million miles a second trying to figure out whether you’d upset your wife or disgusted Nayeon or both, it seemed to last forever.

Jeongyeon stirs on your chest. While you can’t see her face directly, you can tell she is making eye contact with Nayeon.

You’d known Nayeon for almost as long as you’d known Jeongyeon, and being your wife’s best friend you’d obviously gotten to know her quite well over the years. But you’d never seen that particular look on her face, and you weren’t sure what to make of the slight cock of her eyebrow and the slimmest of smiles that had appeared on her lips. Was it surprise? Incredulous disgust? Or was it...

The silence continues, and afraid you’d upset your wife, you decide to break it.

“Uhh, it was just a joke-”

“Shhh,” Jeongyeon says, interrupting your rushed apology as she raises her head from your chest. You were well aware of her trademark death glare, and you steeled yourself to receive another one.

Instead there is a sly smile on her lips. Without saying a word, she turns to Nayeon and gives her the slightest of nods.

With the gentlest of care, Nayeon rises from the loveseat, taking care not to wake Sana from her deep slumber. She cradles the girl’s head with both hands before sliding out from under her and slipping a pillow beneath it. She takes a few steps towards you until she is standing just in front of your knees.

Jeongyeon rises from the couch next to you and steps behind her best friend. Her hands begin to trace a lazy path up Nayeon’s arms, until they reach the back of her neck and the zipper on her glitzy silver dress. Nayeon’s eyes, fixed on yours, become half-lidded with anticipation at the faint sound of a zipper being undone. There was lust in those eyes, and more than a little need - it filled her soft brown orbs, only barely restrained, only barely keeping from spilling over.

When the zipper reaches the end of its path, leaving her dress loose and sagging on her shoulders, Nayeon lets out the barest, slightest gasp.

Your wife looks over her shoulder and steals your gaze from her friend. There is a devilish grin on her lips, one that widens when she reaches up to slowly push the dress over Nayeon’s shoulders, causing it to fall down her thin torso and down to the floor in a pool of shiny silver.

As transfixing as Jeongyeon’s eyes were, your thirsty eyes couldn’t help but drink in the sight of Nayeon’s near naked body. You’d always admired her hot, tight frame from afar, but now, clad only in a lacy black bra and a matching, tiny black thong, you found yourself salivating.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Jeongyeon asks, aloof and haughty, her tone like that of someone admiring an expensive car. “Perfect little face, perfect little tits, perfect little ass.”

You swallow the quickly gathering pool of drool in your mouth. This evening had taken quite a turn.

 “...Definitely,” you stammer.

“You know, baby, she asked me once if I were ever willing to share you with her. I brushed it off at the time and told her I would, but only if I’m in charge… and lucky for her, tonight I’m feeling generous,” your wife says from over Nayeon’s trembling shoulder. “Isn’t that what friends are for, Nayeon?”

“Y-yes,” the girl answers, a faint quiver in her voice. Nayeon had always been proud and confident, but she seemed to have become quite submissive in Jeongyeon’s arms - whether this was an agreed upon act or whether she was genuinely submissive during sex you didn’t know, but you were dying to find out.

“She always got all the guys, any one she wanted. She could turn any boy she wanted into an obedient little fucktoy,” Jeongyeon says, wistfully, as though she were reminiscing about days gone by, “all of them except one.”

Nayeon lets out a small whimper, as though Jeongyeon were accusing her of something. Over her shoulder, your wife locks eyes with you as she whispers into Nayeon’s ear, loud enough for you to hear.

“Lucky for you, Nayeon,” she hisses, “I like to share.”

Nayeon’s thin frame shivers at the word share, as though she’d been waiting for that word for years. Had she? Your attention had always been fixed on your wife, of course, but every now and then you’d catch her friend giving you loaded glances, or watching you with a certain look in her eyes…

“Perfect little face, perfect little tits, perfect little ass...” Jeongyeon repeats - removing her friend’s bra and thong as she does so, leaving Nayeon naked, rubbing her legs together, seeking some sort of release for the lustful anticipation that was building in her body. She trembles under your lustful gaze, her perfect skin flushing pink.

Jeongyeon’s right hand snakes around to Nayeon’s naked, shaved crotch, and while you can’t see it, by the dip in her knuckles and the flush of pink on the older girl’s cheeks you can tell your wife has slipped a finger inside.

“...perfect little pussy,” she finishes.

Speechless, all you can do is gulp. For a long, beautiful minute, you watch as your wife finger fucks her best friend in front of you, her hand sliding in and out of the slick flesh between her thighs. Nayeon becomes a quivering, trembling mess, held up only by Jeongyeon’s arms around her torso. She reaches for Jeongyeon’s free hand and places it over her own breast, squeezing it tightly. Eventually Jeongyeon captures a stiff nipple with her index finger and thumb before giving it a sharp pinch, eliciting a long, throaty moan from the older girl.

“You know baby, it’s not very fair that Nayeon here is buck naked and you’re still fully clothed. Why don’t you show her what she’s going to have inside her?”

Your fingers move of their own volition to undo the belt and zipper of your pants before pulling them down your hips with an enthusiasm and speed you weren’t expecting. Your cock, easily brought to full stiffness by the show taking place in front of you, springs free from its cotton prison.

Nayeon gasps sharply at the sight of your cock. Over her shoulder, Jeongyeon’s devilish smile grows wider as the two most important people in her world continue to dance obediently to the tune she has begun to sing.

Your wife steps out from behind her naked friend to sit on your right side on the couch; Nayeon lets out a disappointed sigh as her friend’s fingers leave her body. You let out a grunt of pleasure as her hand reaches out to your cock and she begins to pump it up and down. Nayeon’s juices on her fingers provide wonderful lubrication for her work, making your cock glisten and causing the first delicious spikes of pleasure to shoot up your spine.

“This is such a nice cock, isn’t it Nayeon? So big and thick and hard. I love the way it fills me…”

“Mmmm,” Nayeon gasps, a needy expression on her small, cute little features. Her left hand begins to wander towards her crotch, her slim thighs rubbing against one another, seeking some sort of outlet for her growing need. Soon she is fingering herself, her thin fingers pumping in and out of her dripping heat, her pace increasing with each of the sultry words leaving Jeongyeon’s mouth.

“I love the way it stretches me out, makes me feel so full…”

“Oh, oh god, Jeongyeon.”

“I love the way it pounds my pussy every single night, so hard and fast, whenever he wants…”

“Mmm, Jeongyeon, please…”

“But do you know what I love the most, Nayeon?”

“Mmmm-?”

You turn your head just enough to witness the look Jeongyeon gives her naked friend.

“...the way he fills me with cum. So hot, so thick, so warm - and all for me.”

Nayeon moans - and the fingers inside her begin to pump faster and faster until, just a few seconds later, she orgasms. She becomes a quivering, trembling mess on shaky legs before they finally give out beneath her and she falls to her knees.

All the while, even as you both watch Nayeon become a puddle of boneless flesh in front of you, Jeongyeon is pumping your cock with a tight fist around your shaft. She stops suddenly, and you lament the abrupt end to the pleasure for only a moment before she brings her mouth to your ear.

“Fuck her.”

You turn your head to face her and crush her lips in a kiss that is equal parts passion and thankfulness.

But as giving as Jeongyeon is, she isn’t one to deny herself the chance for pleasure, either. As you leave the couch and drop to your knees behind Nayeon, she slips her black shorts from her own hips, taking her panties along with them. As Nayeon recovers from her post-orgasm haze to find you readying yourself to take her from behind, Jeongyeon reaches down and grasps her friend by the side of her head, steering her face between her own spread legs.

As you enter Nayeon’s pussy from behind, it pushes the older Korean girl’s face forward - and into Jeongyeon’s wet, dripping pussy. All three of you gasp. All three of you moan.

Nayeon is almost better than you expected her to be - tight, hot, dripping, smothering your stiff cock with slick heat. Each thrust into her body sends shocks of pleasure up and down your spine. You find yourself grunting and grimacing with each thrust, trying your best not to cum too soon, trying to savor every second you were inside the mewling, quivering young woman’s pussy.

Each thrust elicits a throaty gasp from Nayeon, one that is smothered by the warm flesh of Jeongyeon’s thighs. You cannot see exactly what she is doing, but the moans and sighs that leave Jeongyeon’s throat are evidence of the magic she is working between your wife’s legs. 

Your hands roam, eager to explore Nayeon’s tight, perfect little body, even as it is rocked back and forth by each impact of your hips against her round ass. You’d always admired her body beneath the tight, short dresses and low-cut tops she liked to wear, but to see her now, bent over and naked as you take her roughly on your living room floor while her face is buried in your wife’s pussy - it was almost surreal. 

Your hands wander her naked back, enjoying the moist feel of the sweat dripping down her spine. You settle for gripping her right shoulder with your right hand, pulling her back as you slam forward into her body, while your left hand squeezes a soft, round ass cheek, pulling the flesh apart to reveal the dripping lips of her pussy as your cock penetrates it over and over again.

You reach down with your left thumb, and you begin to tease the pursed, tight ring of her ass.

Jeongyeon sees this - has been on the receiving end of it more times than she could count, most of the time on her demand - and encourages you.

“Do it, baby,” she says, the words light and airy with pleasure, “stick your thumb in her tight little ass.”

You weren’t one to disobey your wife’s orders. When your thumb presses against her ass and penetrates it to the first knuckle, Nayeon lets out a deep, wordless moan of pleasure at the new sensation - one that sends delicious vibrations from her throat and directly onto Jeongyeon’s pussy. All the while you haven’t stopped fucking her with your cock - now your thumb joins in, pumping in and out of her ass slowly as you penetrate both of her holes. It seems to reinvigorate her, and she returns to her work between Jeongyeon’s thighs with new energy.

“Oh, oh fuck, baby, she’s eating me so good,” Jeongyeon gasps, “Oh, fuck--”

Jeongyeon lets out part of a shriek before her orgasm cuts it off and it turns into a passionate moan. The entire process - stripping Nayeon, fingering her, teasing the both of you - had already brought her close to cumming even before Nayeon had started eating her out. Between her legs, Nayeon is relentless, her head bobbing up and down as she continues to feast on her friend’s moist, slick flesh even as she quivers and trembles beneath her mouth. She eats Jeongyeon out through the entirety of her orgasm, her tongue swiping her friend’s clit with wide, strong licks, each one eliciting a strangled cry of pleasure from your wife.

The sight of Jeongyeon cumming so hard on the couch only heightened the pleasure coursing through your own veins. You’d seen her cum plenty of times before, but to see her cum now, with her legs spread and another woman’s head between her thighs - it was so very hot, so intensely erotic.

You thrust harder and deeper into Nayeon, fucking her hard and harshly now, the deep moans that she releases at your quickened pace only encouraging you to keep going. The loud slap of flesh on flesh echoing throughout the room increases in frequency as you hammer in and out of her slick pussy as fast as you are able.

“Mmmmmffmmfm,” she moans with her mouth and lips full of Jeongyeon’s pussy, “Mmmmfffm!”

“Do it, baby,” Jeongyeon moans weakly, “fucking cum in her pussy. Fill her perfect little pussy up with cum!”

“Mmmffm- please,” Nayeon says, lifting her head from Jeongyeon’s crotch enough to finally form coherent words, “Please, please, oh please fuck cum inside me, oh I need it so bad I need it so bad oh fuck fill me, fill my pussy, oh!---”

The tumble of filth leaving Nayeon’s mouth is cut short as the feel of your cum spurting deep inside her body causes her vocal cords to give out and an orgasm to course through her veins. With a hand firm on her shoulder and the other still clenched around her ass cheek you bury yourself as deep as you can inside her body as you cum, filling the mewling, quivering young woman’s pussy with rope after rope of thick, hot white semen. Nayeon moans with each stream of hot cum that fills her body, each one a deep, throaty sound of satisfied need.

The three of you, having reached orgasm within moments of each other, let out deep, wordless moans of pleasure as the sensations finally overwhelm your respective minds.

When your senses return you realize you have slumped over Nayeon’s body, your chest pinning her against the edge of the couch between Jeongyeon’s still-spread legs, her face pressed against your wife’s stomach. The first sound you are aware of is Jeongyeon giggling.

Soon Nayeon is giggling as well, and before you know it you are letting a small chuckle escape your own lips as the reality of what you had just done finally settles in.

You feel a sudden need to kiss Jeongyeon, and it takes some effort, but after you lean towards her she meets you halfway and your lips meet in a short but passionate kiss. Nayeon, sandwiched between you, pushes her own face between yours, and you find yourself kissing her as well, your tongues exploring each others’ for the first time. Jeongyeon, never wanting to feel left out, soon pulls Nayeon’s face from yours by her chin before capturing her best friend’s lips in a sultry, heated kiss.

The three of you are content to enjoy the moment, your sated, sweaty bodies pressed against one another, enjoying the feel of naked flesh and the taste of wet, hot tongues. With the immediate lusts satisfied for now, the three of you ease into a slower pace, savoring each moment, relishing in the new sensations and feelings between you.

Content to watch Nayeon and Jeongyeon begin to engage in a fierce makeout session, your hands wander, enjoying the weight of Nayeon’s round breasts in your palms. Her messy, cum-drenched pussy pulsates and quivers around your half-softened cock when you pinch her stiff, sensitive nipples, causing your shaft to stir inside her. You feel her pussy begin to drip your combined juices onto the carpet. 

Soon Jeongyeon’s shiny silver top joins Nayeon’s dress on the floor as the older girl pulls it up and over your wife’s arms. Her bra and your own t-shirt follow soon after, leaving the three of you fully naked for the first time. Nayeon quickly bends her head to suckle from Jeongyeon’s small, round breasts, her lips closing tight around a stiff nipple.

The passions soon reignite in your bodies. You feel your cock begin to harden once more inside Nayeon’s creamy, sloppy pussy, and with your hands on her hips, you slowly begin to rock back and forth inside her body, relishing the first spikes of pleasure that shoot up your spine. Her pussy begins to tighten and squeeze you, and Nayeon turns her head from Jeongyeon’s saliva-drenched breast to give you a needy look with half-lidded eyes, as though urging you to keep going..

The prospect of a second round is interrupted by Sana, who has finally arisen from her deep sleep. At the sound of her rising from the loveseat, the three of you turn to see that she has risen to a seating position, a look of shock on her face.

“Why the fuck did you get started without me!?”

---

Author’s Note: Whew.

Rushed this one a bit since I wrote it in a 2yeon inspired boner fueled haze haha, and couldn’t wait until the 2yeon chapter of BT I have planned which will probably be a couple of months away. Apologies if it’s messy and not up to usual standards but I just needed to sate my 2yeon urges for now. Hope you all like it :)

...now the idea of a second round with creampied Nayeon is in my head ...

[hongjoongtrasher]

ATEEZ FINAL PART : when they said something to hurt you.

I'm glad you've liked the previous part (part 1 and 2 here if you haven't read it yet), so here is a final to all this angsty reactions (if it is a reaction). Sorry if there are a lot of grammar errors, English not being my mother tongue -

Gosh this is going to be LONG please, bear with me ugh.

Hongjoong:

After this stormy episode of him totally lashing his stress out on you, he spent some time alone to think and reflect upon his trashy behaviour. He was genuinely aware of the massive efforts you were doing for his ass. Literally be patient and taking everything on you so he didn't have to feel more stressed. But today was different. He obviously went too far, saying those words horribly. Furthermore, he knew how hurt you've been because of him and now he didn't really know how to be forgiven. He always have been busy, always considering his work first and thought you were in an equal part of this, but seems he considered you taken for granted. The leader sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes not seeing any solutions at the moment. It's at this moment that Seonghwa entered the place. "Erm...Joong ?" he didn't answer, only Seonghwa could see how much his leader was in distress. "I heard from Y/N, mh I mean she told San who told me but anyway-" began the oldest before Hongjoong asked simply: "Have you come to scold me ?" A silence then. "No, I came to check on you." Seonghwa was always worried about his leader, since he knew the best how hardworking and diligent Hongjoong was, but today he felt like he was wrong. "You've acted like a real idiot this time" Hongjoong let a sarcastic laugh be heard as he slowly turned to face his friend. "Yeah, I know. Do you think she will forgive me ?" "Probably not easily." he answered honestly before continuing. "She told San she was tired of this, always being a shadow to you, erm...and nowadays she's been really stressed at work" A shadow ? Is this how you were seeing yourself as ? And on top of that, he was completely unaware of your work, how life has been going for you. This made the leader felt more guilty as he bite his lips. "So...What should I do ? Kneeling and beg her for forgiveness ?" Seonghwa sighed and put a comforting hand on the leader shoulder. "Sometimes actions are better than words".

And he left the studio, putting Hongjoong in a more difficult situation than he was already. What did he mean ? He thought about it again and again, watching without really watching his screen before it tilted inside his head. "THE SONG !!" he yelled at himself, feeling now very dumb. He had almost forgotten this track, a very secret one he composed for a long time. This song was special for him, it was a song which were written for you, and was conveying all of his feelings. He had to make you listen to this. A glance at his phone indicated it was already 3am in the morning, but sleep could wait. He spent the rest of the night finishing this track, or actually checking it before he saved a copy and directly sent it to you, praying you'd see it in the morning.

You'd spent the most horrible night of your life. Crying and turning under your blanket as you felt useless, no one. San proposed to come with Yunho, but you insisted to be alone, so they let you be, though they were worried. You only found sleep around two in the morning, tired for having crying most of the night. You woke up at six, your eyes hurting, puffy and red as fuck. Anyone could tell you've cried your eyeballs out. First you went to the bathroom to clean your face with cold water, your stuffy nose not helping in the process. After a while you returned to your bedroom and took your phone, not expecting to see a message from your boyfriend, or was he still yours ? At first you hesitated to open it, but finally did. No text, just an audio file. What was this ? Taking your headphone, you put them into your ear before clicking on the file, closing your eyes. At first, you were confused. You've never heard any melody like this one, so...calm, bubbly and soft. Soon Hongjoong's voice appeared with lyrics he surely had written and...you broke in tears again. This time not from sadness, but ...it was like a dream. You could heard his feelings, how much he loved you. You were ready to forgive him, but...it wasn't easy. Reconciliations were always difficult for both of you. Brushing this instantly aside, you rushed out from your apartment for going directly to Hongjoong's studio, in home wear, messy hair and "after crying faced" only to find him asleep on the couch. Panting, you rushed to jump on your boyfriend, sobbing again . This caused Hongjoong to wake up in surprise, confused. "Y-Y/N ?" why ? Why were you crying again ? After a while of you crying heavily on his shirt, he realised you probably came after hearing his song. His arms softly hooked around your tiny waist as one hand rubbed your back. "Shh...don't cry" he said, heartbroken to see you like this. "You dummy !" you yelled between two sobs. "I know." "I - I love you" "Me too, I'm sorry for being a huge dummy" he said with a gentle smile, holding your face to wipe your tears.

Seonghwa:

How rude he's been with you. It's only after hearing your answer that he realised you didn't deserve this. He wanted to chase after you, saying he was sorry, but too late, you slammed the door. Hongjoong came to their shared room before leaning at the door's frame, arching a brow at the oldest. "Can you explain to me what did just happen ?" he asked calmly before Seonghwa bite his lower tier. "I've been a jerk with her" he mumbled, not proud of himself this time. "Yeah, we saw this. You know, she only wanted to cheer you up. We all know you're having bad times because of vocal things, but you didn't have to lash out on her." His leader wasn't wrong, only himself was. "Hwa, go after her. It's not too late" said Hongjoong. "Now ?" Hongjoong sighed. "Yes now, not tomorrow or later" Seonghwa blinked, overthinking before his own body stood up and carried him outside the dorm, chasing after you desperately. He shouldn't have had been this way, he should have been thankful to have you by his side, always being cheerful and bright although sometimes you were hiding your own demons. But being a couple meant for the good and the worst right ? After running for a while, he stopped, panting his lungs on fire. He started to think. Where could you be now ? He remembered when you were sad or stressed, you used to go to Starbucks and get a drink full of sugar and whipped cream, that's how he thought you'd at the nearest one. Not minding people watching him when he opened the door, he eyed the room quickly before seeing you at the table across the entrance. He stepped inside and directly went to your seat as you were still sniffing with tears, your drink between your hands. Not expecting to see your boyfriend, you gasped when you finally realised he was standing here without saying anything. "Y/N.." You tried to gain composure, not wanting to appear fragile in front of him. "What are you doing here ? I thought you didn't want to see me" you croaked, looking away coldly. You heard him sitting before you and took your cold hands. "Y/N I'm sorry. I've been a jerk, you didn't deserve this- I know my work isn't an excuse for acting this way, I understand if you don't want to talk to me or-" "Shut up..." you mumbled, suddenly feeling embarrassed as more people were staring at you two. "I will do everything for you to forgive me, really." he said seriously, not quitting your face from his gaze. Some people were whispering and gossiping, and the more they did, the more you felt ridiculous. You stood up quickly and went straight to the exit with your double cold latte with whipped cream, your boyfriend following you closely. "Are you crazy Park Seonghwa ??? Did you forget you're an idole ? Huh ?? What are you going to do if they recognise you ?" You began to yell but Seonghwa stopped you by taking your free hand and said clearly. "Then I will just say you're my girlfriend and that I don't care, cause you deserve way more than this. Beside being an idole I'm a man, and I love you, there's nothing wrong with this, and if they don't like it, screw them !" you were shocked by his fearless answer, and you felt your heart melt again. You were definitely madly in love with him.

Yeosang:

He was aware of his jerk attitude, and as much as he felt guilty, he didn't know how to ask for your forgiveness. The members already scolded him for what he had said earlier but he knew better than anyone that you weren't ready to talk with. You were the type to be angry for a while, not letting space for any peaceful conversation until you'd calm down. He overthought for a while, thinking you'd probably dump him now and he wouldn't see you ever again, or you'd be so mad at him you'd just beat his ass. Tormented, Yunho looked at his friend before saying, not really sure to mingle in his friend's love problems: "Yeosang, I'm not sure about her being mad, I think she's ...sad ?" he said cautiously, nervous about Yeosang's answer. Sad ? He was really dumb. Of course you'd not be mad, or at least not as much as sad. After all he saw you crying when you left, and his motto was all ruined at this moment. "You're right...I should go see her." he said flatly, feeling really bad. "Huh, yeah I don't even understand why you're still here to be honest" said Yunho with a smile. Thanks to him, Yeosang found the courage to go to your apartment, with your favorite pastry from the bakery you both liked to go, and...flowers. Yeosang wasn't the type to make such lovey dovey stuffs, but this time it was important. Inhaling deeply in front of your door, he knocked once, shyly, not sure if you'd hear it. Then he knocked more frankly before hearing footsteps from behind the door and before he knew it, you were standing in front of him as much surprised as he was. "...What are you doing here ?" you asked, rather coldly. He cleared his throat before handling you shyly the flowers. "I...I came to apologise. I've been a real jerk to you earlier...I even promised myself I'd never make you cry, but I failed miserably" he said in a go, probably too embarrassed to say it confidently. There is a silence, as you fix your eyes on your shy boyfriend. Suddenly you wanted to laugh. How laughable it was to see Yeosang acts like he never did before. You can't bear it anymore and just burst out of laugh, laughing so much that you have to hold your hurting belly. Visibly confused, Yeosang frowned a bit. Why were you laughing ? "Oh my god...You're really something else" you said, calming down slowly before taking the flowers. He suddenly lifted his head in hope. "Does it mean you're forgiving me ?" You faked you're still thinking about it, humming in an exaggerate way. "Well, only if you let me eat this" you nudged your chin to the box he was carrying and which you spotted immediately before he gave you the flower. He smiled and shook his head. "Alright, it's all for you then"

San:

He had definitely crossed a line he shouldn't had. After you slammed the door at his nose, he tried to make you open it for a while, but you never opened it again. So he left, defeated. It was supposed to be a romantic moment for both of you since a while, and yet he ruined everything with his mouth. Sometimes he wished he just could rewind and change every thing. Even if he didn't like the dress, he could have accepted it since you were happy, but his selfishness and jealousy got over it and now he was alone, in his car without you. He took his phone, sending you texts. "Babe, I'm sorry, please, you know I didn't really mean it right ?" or "Please answer me, I'm really sorry." etc, but you didn't even open them since they were still on sent. Instead of going back to his dorm, he tried to call you this time. On the fifth time, he let a voice mail, taking a long breath before the beep. "Y/N, I'm really sorry, I didn't want to ruin our date like this, or just ruin it at all. The truth is...you were so pretty in this dress, so sexy that I don't want other men to see you in this, I wanted to be the only one to see you with. You're not a whore, you're not any of this. I'm selfish I know, but please, it's been so long since we went on a date...If you still want to see me...I'll be waiting in front of your building." And he locked his phone, leaning his head on the top of the steering wheel. He didn't know how long he waiting again but he suddenly heard the door of the passenger side opening, making him look at the person who opened it. It was you. With the same dress. He felt his heart stopped as you sat next to him, putting your seatbelt without a word. "Y/N ?" You looked straightforward you, and said simply. "Let's go, I guess the restaurant is still open" you muffled. He couldn't help but smiled happily as he turned the engine on, taking your hand in his before driving and said. "Thank you Y/N, thank you" and kissed the back of your delicate hand.

Yunho:

Since the incident at the practice room, Yunho didn't hear from you for a while. Hongjoong particularly scolded him about how rude he's been on you while you just wanted to wish them good luck for their performance. He knew it right, but at the moment he couldn't have helped but get angry at you. He knew as well it wasn't so like him to get carried away for nothing, so that's why he didn't really know what to do to make amend for you. He made his mind he would apologise right after their stage for Kingdom even if they boys thought it would be better to do it before. He knew you'd definitely watch them, root for them so he put all of his mind and body in this performance, hoping it would bring him luck. And it did since they snitched 1st place although they started low in the classement. When the MC asked Yunho how he felt about their win, the giant boy just shyly smiled before saying with a trembling voice. "I...It meant a lot for us, and to be able to be first is huge honour. We always want to show our best to our fans, Atiny. But today I...wanted to surpass myself for a certain person." Others groups were chatting among themselves, surprised by Yunho's declaration. Changmin, though he was as surprised as the others still asked professionally. "Oh, who would it be ?" Yunho smiled brightly and said confidently. "Y/N, my girlfriend." Some screams and gasps from shock could be heard in the giant room after Yunho pursued: "She's always been by my side and supports me with the best way she can, but lately...I've not been a good boyfriend to her, that's why I wanted to win, for her, and saying that I love her."

Right after the diffusion of this week episode which you've been watching with your friends, you sobbed like a little girl. How proud you were for your boyfriend, and the only thing you wanted now was to take him in your arms, feeling his arms around you. With shaking hands you took your phone to try to call Yunho, but he wasn't answering your call. That's at this very moment you heard the bell of your door and went for it, not expecting to see your boyfriend at your door. "H-hi" he said shyly. You dropped your phone and jumped directly in his arms, crying again. "You're an idiot Jung Yunho...But I love you". He nuzzled the top of your head as he hugged you back tightly. "I love you too, little one."

Wooyoung:

wede Wooyoung always said honestly what he was thinking, and everyone's used to it, so he thought his remarks about your skill about cooking would pass easily, but he was wrong. At first he didn't understand your reaction, why you left like this as he was only joking, or he thought so. Seonghwa nagged at him after you left, saying how rude he's been and at least he could shut his mouth. He felt really guilty. He was the one who made you loose confidence about you, when he knew you're always trying your best. And this time, he really screwed things up. Worst than this, when he ate the cake you'd made, he realised it was really good, and his unfounded claims were really mean. Gathering his courage, he showed up at your workplace, waiting for you at the exit. At first, you didn't want to see him, you haven't digested yet what he'd said to you. But with an expressionless face, you finally appeared in front of him. "Y/N- listen, I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have said those horrible jokes. No, I mean, I didn't mean what I said, the cake was really good." he tried to say quickly, afraid you'd just brush him away. After listening to his words, you just sighed and said "You're really a jerk sometimes you know that ? Maybe I'm not good at some things, but it doesn't give you the right to bash me out like this in front of everyone. Do you understand Wooyoung ?" he looked down at his feet and nodded, muttering "I'm sorry". "Fine, if you're really sorry, you better cook something too" you smirked, a sign from you that you're half forgiving him. "What ? Wait-" he looked at you astonished. "I don't know what to cook" "Huh, well not my problem" you sticked your tongue out to him and caught his arm in yours.

Mingi:

Mingi's been aware that his words probably upset you. But he needed to find himself again, to get right on tracks by himself even if he was thankful towards you, taking care of him for so long and everything. But he felt like it was his duty to make his comeback to the team his, from A to Z. He hoped you would understand, but after you left him alone, he felt guilty to suddenly reject you. The first day of his comeback into the team, Mingi felt really nervous. He wished he could call you and talk to you as he used to, but since that day he didn't dare to contact you. Instead he sent you a long message, saying how much he missed you and felt really nervous. That he was sorry for what he's said and how much you counted for him. He knew deep inside his mind that you had understood his reasons to act this way, and he was right. After reading his text, you couldn't help but fall in love all over again for Mingi. He was so sweet and pure that you couldn't hold grudges against him. You texted back saying "Everything's gonna be alright. Fighting ! I love you" which reassured the rapper.

Jongho:

Although Jongho was the youngest from the team, he was really mature and hated childish behaviour when it comes for his relationship. The fact you got jealous and as a result, acted this way got him angry. For him, the fact he was dating you was a proof of his choice, and love. Things weren't bad with his ex, so he didn't see why he would cut the rope from her, and he expected you to understand his point of view. After calming down on his own, he also realised his reaction must not have been mature as well. He took more time to think about how he was going to reconcile with you, but things shouldn't stay this way. He expected you to be at your place, and directly knocked at the door, feeling nervous. "Y/N ?" he called out for you. It took a moment before you opened the door, clearly still furious about what happened earlier. "What ? Aren't you with Mina yet ?" you spatted out, maybe too agressive than you wished. Jongho took on himself not to react to this again, instead sighing softly. "Baby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted this way." he began, trying to be the most sincere he was. "You're the only one for me, you know it right ? But you see, Mina is indeed my ex, but it doesn't mean I'm on bad terms with her, and it also means that nothing will happen with her anymore. Because I love you so much and no one else"

[fukurodanni]

love for the rich and emotionally stunted: a comprehensive guide

ch. 2/7 -- prev. -- next. pairing: jumin han x f!reader warnings: n/a series summary: in the months following the incident with his father's most recent paramour, glam choi, the corporate heir of C&R finds himself discovering exactly what it is that makes a person in love so blind. ao3 link

note: sticking a read more right at the beginning. u kno how it is. thank you for sticking around i'll try my best to keep updates within a week or so!

(weeks prior.)

Jumin Han has entered the chatroom.

Jumin Han

She talked to me today.

ZEN

??

Who?

707

She??

There’s a she?!

Jumin Han

Oh.

I must have neglected to mention it.

ZEN

????

Last time there was a “she”...

Jumin Han

… No.

There’s a woman at my office.

Jaehee Kang

Does she work for you?

Jumin Han

Yes

707

That took an awfully long time for you to type lolol

Are you sure~~

Jumin Han

Yes. She wears a lanyard.

Jaehee Kang

Do you not know her name??

Jumin Han

I should think it would seem impolite after… all that.

Jaehee Kang

???

ZEN

?????

All that WHAT?

Jumin Han

I only caught a glimpse of her lanyard. I don’t know.

ZEN

Dodged my question… T_T

Jaehee Kang

Is this that woman you see in the mornings?

Jumin Han

How did you ....

ZEN

?!?!

707

Is our Jumin finally getting some?!

I’m so proud. Haha T_T

Jumin Han

Getting some… what?

Jaehee Kang

I can look into her.

For research purposes. Of course^^

Jumin Han

;;;

I only just started seeing her this month.

At the door. Seeing her at the door.

707

Seeing her OTL

Maybe she’s your future lover come to save you^^

Jumin Han

I doubt that.

ZEN

Yeah lolol

I doubt it too

And right after the Choi thing?? No way.

707

T_T

Ur right

There’s no way...

-

“Do you play video games, Mr Han?”

That’s a new one. “Where would I find the time?” He asks, thinking of Yoosung. “It’s a useless hobby.”

“That was a quick answer,” you reply. “Who hurt you?”

Jumin raises a brow, inquisitive. “No one.”

“Okay,” you say, the beginnings of a grin playing on your lips. “Who ruined video games for you?”

He thinks of the dark smudges under Yoosung’s eyes, the awful typos and the messages at 3am. It’s only a little funny. The door closes behind them. “No one in particular.”

“You’re smiling, Mr Han. Just a little.” You smile too at this, tilting your head in that curious way of yours. When you reach the lobby and then your separate ways, Jumin spares a glance at you.

He wants to say something more, something lodged very deep in his throat that comes out dry breath. He’s never been too good at small-talk, not with colleagues, not with business outside of work. He wants to be, just a little.

He’s not quite sure how that came to be.

-

It’s beyond embarrassing the way he comes up to you in the cafeteria. “You work here,” he says, a very belated realization.

You blink a few times, as if processing. “Yes,” you say slowly. “I have a lanyard.” You wave the offending item around and Jumin finally, finally catches a glimpse of your name.

“I see,” Jumin says, because that’s all he really can say. “Work hard.”

He consults his phone right away, willing the heat from his face and opening the messenger app. It goes as well as expected when he mentions it so vaguely-- Hyun rags on him for his lack of conversational skills and Yoosung drops a line or two about his own miserable love life. In any case, Assistant Kang’s information on you had only reached him earlier today and in a way he’s still coping. It had been baffling to say the least, finally having everything in front of him rather than scattered in the bits and pieces of your dialogue.

You work, technically, in the same position Assistant Kang does. Only in the fashion department, of which Jumin had strategically ignored after Echo Girl and the Chois. It really isn’t his fault he hadn’t noticed you-- not since before this month when you began arriving so consistently.

“Something on your mind?” Assistant Kang asks, looking up from where she’s shuffling through a stack of papers. It isn’t unusual for her to break the silence with a quip-- she’s always been good at easing into a mode of conversation that takes the edge off. As a good assistant and employee should, of course. Jumin wonders if he should relay this to her.

“Nothing,” he says instead, because surely she already knows. “Is it polite to bring gifts for someone you’re sure you will be seeing every morning?”

She raises a thin brow. “Who-- that woman at the fashion department?”

Jumin deigns not to answer right away, looking down at the state of his nails and the tick of his wristwatch. “Surely there must be some etiquette about that.”

-

Jaehee Kang

Buy her coffee.

ZEN

Get her a promotion lol

707

A new car!!!

Yoosung★

Maybr a nicce pen

??

-

“Any favorite TV shows?” You ask one morning. “Personally, I’m fond of office romances.”

Jumin lags for a moment, waiting to catch up. It isn’t an unusual occurrence. “Is that an innuendo?”

You smile, a little flushed-looking, and wave a hand. “Nope. Not at all.” When you look at the second coffee in his hand, though, it seems you need a second to catch up yourself. You’d mentioned offhandedly how you take your coffee the day before, and today something had stopped him at the threshold of the coffee shop he stops at every morning. Funny how things work like that.

“This is for you,” he says determinedly, and you smile a little but there’s still an edge.

“You dodged my question.” You state simply. Jumin does not know what to say.

He thinks about it for a moment, really thinks about it. The only thing that really comes to mind are the Sunday morning programs, and he doesn’t really know them off the top of his head. Maybe the morning news. “No TV shows. Next question.”

“Okay then,” you say, “Any pet peeves?”

Jumin smiles a little. It isn’t really conscious, but he’s finally figured out a way to respond and he just hopes it takes well. “Women who stop me at the door in the morning.”

“Oh,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee. You hum appreciatively. He feels strangely, indirectly accomplished. “Shame. Mine’s men who give me three word responses when I ask them things.”

He scoffs, although it isn’t as hard as it usually comes out. “I answered that in a sentence.” He says, very assuredly. When he looks back at you there’s a softer smile at your lips, rounded at the corners and not quite so mischievous as he’s seen it look before. It looks fond.

“I know,” you reply. He feels a little warmer now, turning the corner where you two part ways. You offer him a two-fingered salute, a “See you in the morning!” and a final turn.

And then you’re gone.

-

The next time the conversation lingers long past the lobby it’s because you’ve coaxed him into talking about Elizabeth III. There’s a point where you’ve reached the elevator and he’s talking to you about her care routine and the minutiae of what it takes to keep her fur so soft and pristine (much of it is her own work and her natural beauty-- of course) and he’s only barely aware of how long he’s been going on, but he pauses to look at you. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, between Jaehee’s hesitancy and Luciel’s rabid praise and Hyun’s outright disgust--

But there’s something about the way you’re looking at him when he’s finished, curiouser and half-curved into a smile. And he’s been on the receiving end of that before-- his father’s lovers, interviewers and subordinates-- but none of them have ever seemed so affectionate.

He’s seen the same look before when it’s Jaehee with a new photocard, the way Yoosung danced around Rika. It’s the glint in Luciel’s glasses when he gets to working and it’s something, something.

You look like you’ve seen something beautiful.

Which is understandable to him, really, having just shown you pictures of his Elizabeth III. What he understands less is the way you’re looking at him and not the open phone, caught up in a silence that seems way too heavy for a conversation about his cat. Even when the elevator dings it’s with some trepidation that you leave first, a memory, a discovery pulled taut between you two.

“I hope I get to meet her sometime,” you say.

Jumin nods, wordless. The delight on your face at such a simple gesture fixates itself in the forefront of his mind until he returns home to Elizabeth, flickering like hell and unbidden and unexpected but not exactly unwelcome. It’s just as confusing to him as it sounds on paper.

-

Somehow Jaehee gets to you first.

For all the time he’s spent working with Jaehee, working around her and in her general proximity, he doesn’t actually know what time she gets into the building. She seems like an inevitability, something constant and fixed and always there.

So when he holds the door open for two women, Jumin is feeling like he had seen something he wasn’t supposed to. Especially since the two of you seem to be chatting so jovially, shaking her hand with both of yours when you go to part.

There’s another something clogging his throat, a cloying want and a halfhearted desire to draw that same laugh from you, that same open brightness. He hasn’t let himself feel so much about one person-- one particular and fixed point in his life. Jumin feels like he’s chasing-- some feeling, some unnamed ball of fire-- a meteor, blazing and brilliant and too much to be real.

It’s too much to be compared to anything else, not when Sarah Choi was an unlit match next to what a beaming bonfire you are. Suddenly Jumin feels more tightly wound than he usually does.

And really, truly, it feels like a lot to handle, so he turns on his heel after silently handing you the coffee and begins to march. It feels like karmic debt for not having experienced these things as a schoolboy, and then only once as an adult. He doesn’t even know if the one time counted.

“Mr Han--” you say, and it happens at the same time he holds his breath to turn again. Just to look, to see if you appeared as off kilter as he felt. Maybe the world had rotated wrong today.

You stop there in your tracks and he really does believe for a moment that the world has gone astray-- because then it would explain the way air isn’t getting to his lungs right. He inhales just to make sure and before any other dialogue comes from your lips he asks, “Walk with me?”

You both take the elevator then.

-

Jaehee Kang

She’s a very nice woman.

Yoosung★

Huh?

707

U met her?!?!!

Tell me everything

-

It makes your mornings longer, the introduction of the elevator route. He isn’t sure how it became mutual agreement and routine, the same way the cup of coffee steams in your hands and the way you ask after Elizabeth III. The way the door gets held open.

Jumin isn’t sure how many mornings go by, how many of them are spent dreading the chime of the elevator, but one of them brings a much quieter you. And you’re usually such a whirlwind of life, pulling him toward and towards you-- he’d be lying to himself more than usual if he said he wasn’t worried.

You look like you’re steeling yourself too, and you’ve never done that-- there isn’t a thing you’ve said to him that was measured or prepared. You’re kind of like an overexcited puppy, and he’s never been too fond of dogs.

He feels something slide out of place, something like a realization that’s far grander than he knows, hovering at the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t know what it is yet, not really. He’s barely out of his head, ready to ask if you’re alright--

And you cut him off. Like you did that first morning, knocking the breath from his lungs and everything else out of place. Jumin likes things neat and tidy, likes things where they should be, where he’s used to seeing them. You aren’t too good for him, he thinks.

Then you ask, “Would you want to go out sometime?” And he has no reference materials and no forewarning and no prepared response. The odds are against him.

So against all odds and every simmering nerve in his body he says, “Yes.”

tags: @vandysgf @mrs-han

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.

So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.

“Hello, little girl.”

But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.

It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.

“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.

“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.

I hoped not.

Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”

“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.

“Barely,” he corrected.

“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”

I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.

“Yeah, sure feels like it.”

His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.

“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”

“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”

He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.

“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”

“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.

He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”

“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”

Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.

It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”

He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”

“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”

“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.

“My last one is on Wednesday.”

The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”

“You should call my professors and yell at them.”

He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”  

“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”

After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”

It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”

The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.

But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.

“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”

“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.

“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”

But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Unfortunately.”

I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.

“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.

But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”  

“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”

“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.

“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.

He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.

“I want… you to go to bed.”

“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.

Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”

“I love you, too, old man.”

He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.

“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.  

“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.

Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”

“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, little girl.”

—————————————————

Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.

It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.

The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.

I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”

“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.

“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.

“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.

But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.  

“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.

“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”

“But you weren’t,” I snorted.

Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”

There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.

But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”

I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.

He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.

Speaking of…

"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them." 

In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.

"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me." 

While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.

“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.

Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever." 

The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.

A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.

“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.

“Is that a challenge?”

I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.

Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.

As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.

It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.

“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”

But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.

Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.

His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.

Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—

“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.

Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.  

The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.

I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.

For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.

Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.

He kept a few for me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.

“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.

“This is wildly inappropriate.”

“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.

I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.  

Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.

There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.

“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.

Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”

The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.

I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.

But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.

I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.

“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.

Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”

His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.

“Take me home.”

Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.

“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.

“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.

“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige." 

Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.

I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.

“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”

With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.

I couldn’t resist.

“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.  

“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.

After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.

—————————————————

The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.

“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.

Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.

From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”

It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.

“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.

“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.

“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted you so badly.”

There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.  

“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”

Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.

“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.

I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.

“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.

“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”

Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.

“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”

“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”

“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”

He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.

“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.

“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.

He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.

“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”

The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.

“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.

“I don’t know…”

If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.

“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”

It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.

“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.

“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.  

I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.

It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.

“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.

“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”

Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.

I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.

“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”

I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.

His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.

But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.

Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.

“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”

My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.

I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.

My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.

Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.

That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.

“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.

It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.

“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”

“Gross,” I joked.

“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.

“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”

Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.

“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.

“Good afternoon, Spencer.”

I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.

And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”

Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.

It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.  

Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”

In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.

“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”

Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”

Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.

“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.

“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”

“And do what?”

It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.

Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.

And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

| Finale |

[bubbleteaimagines]

age gap

tony stark oneshot

tony x you

swearing, large age gap

in this day and age it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

but it was.

y/n l/n and tony stark became trending worldwide, every gossip magazine and newspaper out for whatever information they could get about your relationship.

the relationship by the way, that had a 28 year age gap.

you were 20 and tony was turning 48, though it seemed neither of you cared as much as the world did.

you thought it was perfectly normal, seeing as your parents were years apart and tony simply didn’t give a damn.

‘screw the tabloids’ he always said, but sometimes it wasn’t that easy.

at home, you were able to relax with the idea of your age gap as it was just the two of you being y/n and tony.

but out in public, it was an entirely different deal.

whispers, stares, pictures. you name it and people did it, not even caring or respecting your private time with tony when you went out.

you didn’t expect for it to bother you as much as it did. you thought that maybe with tony by your side you could block out the whispers and the hateful stares but it was nearly impossible as it happened almost everywhere you went.

even if you went grocery shopping for god’s sake, someone still had something negative to say.

of course, tony defended you as much as he could. he tried to shield you from the hateful words and articles but sometimes he wasn’t enough.

sometimes, it did get to you and soon you realized you didn’t know how much more you could take.

you loved tony, but after being constantly called a gold digger and his sugar baby, you began to doubt yourself, and your relationship.

were you really as manipulative as the papers said? were you really just with tony for his money?

of course not. deep down you knew that with or without money you loved tony stark. and he loved you, but it didn’t help that he also loved to spoil you and he was paying almost all of your college tuition.

even though you insisted he didn’t, he did anyways. he reassured you after countless protest that that was just something he did; he took care of everyone he loved.

eventually you were forced to settle with the idea. but it never stopped the running thoughts in your head.

am i really that bad as everyone says?

it was during a christmas party that tony was holding that you finally snapped.

tony had gone all out; getting the most expensive decorations and inviting all of the richest people he knew.

and of course, since it was tony, he also got the best alcohol money could buy, and unfortunately you weren’t allowed to drink a single drop.

all night, you had stood awkwardly by tony’s side in your pretty red dress, holding a cup full of water and laughing uncomfortably as you were forced to listen to drunk rich people tell unamusing stories.

by now, the music was blasting, night had fallen, and you were pretty sure you were only one not drunk at the party, minus tony and steve.

the elegant cup that you pretended to drink from held nothing expect for water and it was only another painful reminder that you were probably the youngest one at the party.

out of respect, tony decided he wasn’t going to drink either but that did nothing to ease you. If anything, you wished that he had been drinking so that he wouldn’t remember the embarrassing conversation you were having with some of the housewives he invited.

“so, y/n, tell me,” a woman name martha kalnins gushed as she sat on one of tony’s luxurious couches, obviously drunk from one of the many glasses of wine she had had. “Is Tony really as amazing in bed as everyone says he is?”

a round of laugher from the other housewives around you made you shift uncomfortably, thankful the dark room didn’t show the frown radiating off of you.

“uh… i uh,” you sounded like a child, struggling to answer her question and you laughed uncomfortably as to not show how disturbed you really were. you shared a look with tony.

“i mean … h-he’s great at everything, honestly. it’s tony stark we’re talking about,” you answered unsurely, and tony squeezed your thigh as the women laughed again.

“oh, i guess you’re right,” martha slurred and took another drink. “that tony is a catch. hell, if i had been twenty years younger like you i would’ve snatched him up, too. with that tight little body of yours it’s no wonder he’s so eager to pay your bills.”

another round of laughter and you could feel tony beginning to tense up beside you. now, it was your turn to squeeze his leg and you turned back to the women with a tight smile.

“oh, tony doesn’t pay my bills,” you tried to assure them but they waved it off.

“oh nonsense. why else would you be with a man that’s almost 50?” another woman asked you and you threw her a sharp glare.

you were starting to heat up, not appreciating their little jabs at your relationship.

“why am i with him?” you pulled out your cold tone and scoffed at her. “i don’t know— maybe because i love him?” you said a little angrily.

how dare they insinuate anything else than the truth: you loved tony and you didn’t give a damn about his age.

the woman snorted. “yeah. that’s what i told myself when i first met howie,” she threw a glance to an older man in the corner. “sure does make the sex a lot easier when you think you love them.”

you couldn’t stop your blood from boiling.

“how dare you!”

in an instant, you were up and out of your seat, the woman’s smile long gone as you angrily got in her face.

“y/n!” tony tried to stop you but you were sick of it. you were sick of it all; the jokes, the jabs, the little comments that nobody had any business making on your relationship.

you were done.

“how dare you talk about my relationship like that when you know nothing about us!” you fumed and suddenly you had everyone’s attention.

“who are you come into our house and as our guest disrespect us? you don’t know a thing about tony and i. not a single damn thing. you don’t know about all of the late nights we have, all of the laughs we share and all of the movies we watch. you don’t know about all the things we have in common besides sex and you damn well don’t know anything about me! you don’t, because if you did then you’d know i’m not with him for the money, or the fame, or whatever else you think is associated with tony stark. i’m not here for any of that. i’m here for him, so why don’t you get your head out of your ass and realize that just because you spread your legs for money, that doesn’t mean the rest of us do!”

by the time you finished you were panting and everyone was in complete shock. it was silent, and the woman in front of you looked as if she didn’t know what the hell to do.

no one did as you stood with your chest moving heavily, your well deserved rant coming off of your consciousness.

you huffed.

“well then. seeing as i’m only 20, i guess it’s past my bedtime,” you rolled your eyes and looked at the clock, noticing it was 1AM.

“i’ll see you all … whenever. goodnight.”

you did a dramatic turn and then proceeded to exit tony stark style. leaving a big commotion behind you and no doubt people that would spread your words everywhere the next morning.

that would be another problem you would have to worry about, but right now you focused on just sleeping the entire night away.

sighing, you changed out of your dress into some shorts and swiftly got under the covers.

you closed your eyes, and you tried to let sleep come to you but it was almost impossible as you were painfully aware the spot next to you was empty.

tony hadn’t come to bed yet and it was like your body refused to let you rest until he did.

sighing again, you peeled your eyes open again and decided to stare up at the blank ceiling, waiting for tony to come to bed.

when he finally did, it was around 3AM in the morning but even the dark you could see his shit-eating grin.

“well, that was quite the performance tonight, miss l/n,” tony teased almost immediately and you groaned.

“sorry if i ruined your party,” you apologized to tony and buried your face in a pillow. “i just got so mad that people kept insinuating i was only with you for that that i just … i just snapped.” you explained.

tony was still grinning and you felt the bed dip as he gently slid in beside you.

“don’t worry about it. i’d say that was more entertaining than mrs. mccoy getting so drunk she admitted she was cheating with garden boy,” tony laughed and you snorted.

“great. i was the biggest scandal of the night,” you sighed.

“biggest one of the century, actually. how long do you think it’s gonna take for people to start talking about it?”

“i’d say it’ll make an appearance in the morning. some magazine talking about how tony stark’s sugar baby finally blew her fuse,” you yawned and tony chuckled.

“yeah well, at lease i don’t have to worry about if it’s true now.”

“worry if what’s true?”

“that you love me,” he said quietly.

you peered up at him in the dark.

“tony? what? of course i love you,” you frowned. you felt the pillow shift as tony shook his head.

“no, yeah, i know,” he said. “but now i don’t have to worry about if it’s tony stark you’re attracted to, or iron man.”

“clearly i wouldn’t be attracted to a piece of metal, tony,” you both rolled your eyes simultaneously.

“yeah, no shit,” tony sighed. “but i mean like— i don’t have to worry about which personality you’re attracted to. now i know for sure that it’s me that you want, and not just my name. or my fortune.”

“well, technically both are still up from grabs,” you smirked in the dark. “haven’t signed a pre-nup yet.”

“oh but you definitely will now,” tony scoffed, but there was humor behind both of your words.

you both found comfort in knowing that you only wanted each other, and not for the reasons everyone else thought.

you weren’t with tony for the money. and he wasn’t with you for the sex.

you both genuinely and honestly loved each other, and now you knew that no ridiculous tabloid or paper was ever gonna make you doubt that again.

[deepseavibez]

Blindspot || KTH

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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Blindspot [Taehyung x Reader]

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Genre - Best Friend; Fear of the Future; Nighttime Memories; Mixed Feelings;

Summary - She believed in more. In better. In bigger. That life was out there waiting to be grabbed with both hands. He's made it his sole purpose to remind her that simple moments were beautiful and meant to be enjoyed... and maybe, she would realize he was one of them.

Warning - (Slight) Angst; Anxiety; Unsure feelings; Fear of the Future; Fluff; Comfort;

Word Count - 4.7k

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🎶 - I'm Fine - BTS

TAE

‘Tae.’

‘Y/n?’ He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the time, ‘it’s 3am babe.’

‘... I'm sorry for waking you. Sorry. Go back to sleep, it's okay.’

‘Hey, no, no, I'm awake.’ Sitting up, he switched the phone to his other hand and rubbed at his eyes, ‘What's going on.’

‘It’s not important, I swear,’ he could hear her trying to mask her shakiness over the phone. ‘You can go back to sleep.’

He wouldn’t call her out on lying. He knew better than anyone when y/n was in a bad way. Once he asked her, specifically him, what was wrong, she would crumble and he wasn’t there to catch her right now. ‘Y/n. Come on, talk to me.’

‘I can't sleep.’

‘Yeah, no shit,’ he yawned back.

‘I'm so sorry for waking you.’ He could hear the trepidation in her voice.

‘You know better than to apologize for something like that, ‘ he chastised. ‘Babe, tell me about it. Was it a bad dream? Something keeping you up?’

----------

Y/N

You could hear shuffling over the phone as you searched for an answer. It was hard to put certain emotions into words. You only knew you needed to phone Tae, regretting it too late, when he actually answered. ‘I'm not sure,’ you started awkwardly, ‘I guess. I just don't know where I'm going.’

‘Do you plan on leaving me anytime soon?’ Already pulling your leg, he got you to roll your eyes.

‘No, of course not. I just mean, like, metaphorically.’

Things were a bit...confusing right now.

It had been a long time since you last had to deal with emotions this strong. The voices, getting harder to ignore. You had enough outside negativity to deal with, like family and some friends, all having this certain expectation from you.

It was new for you to rebel, to be who you wanted to be and feel how you wanted to feel without consequences. Choosing a life you solely strived toward, negating the tiny voice in your head saying you were wasting time and you were running out of time and you were not enough.

‘I don't know what I want to do, Tae!’ You burst out, the build up too long, the burden too heavy. ‘I don't have plans. I have a great job, I do. But I don't want to be a PA for the rest of my life and I don't know where to start, where to look, how to choose what I want to do.

I don’t have it figured out, it hasn’t fallen onto my lap, and when I look, I feel like I’m going to waste even more time looking.’

‘Y/n, you know you have a lot more figured out than you give yourself credit for.’ The huskiness of his sleep-leaden voice, comforted you. ‘You have money, a routine stable job, you've worked you way through university and graduated with honors.’ Taehyung did it without effort and he knew you would hear his gruff tone above all others, in a crowd, in a panic, as a voice of reason.

‘I know, and I keep trying to remind myself of that, but it’s just become unbearable. I am running out of time.’ Struggling to remain composed you spoke into the phone as if he was right here, ‘What if I'm still here in ten years, Tae? What if I don't ever figure out my purpose? What if I'm meant to just work and then die? I haven't lived! I haven’t seen the world. I’ve made everyone proud and now I’m the black sheep. I prefer it, It's just-,’

The sound of keys jangling cut you off.

‘Tae,’ you asked tentatively, confusion evident.

‘Hmm.’

‘What are you doing?’ You asked when he provided no further explanation.

‘Are you in pj's right now?’

‘Uh,’ you looked down at your white vest and underwear, just to make sure, ‘yeah, why?’

‘Miss y/n, I didn't know you slept in the nude.’

The protests left you immediately at his teasing, slithering heat under your skin at the very notion. ‘Tae! I am not sleeping in the nude, I have underwear on.’

‘Uh huh, what color are they?’ Your cheeks flamed in embarrassment. You could imagine his smirk, that dumb cocky, arrogant smirk.

He laughed, the sound gruff, infuriating you more, and causing you to giggle back. Because you were the butt of the joke, and you liked his laugh too much. Trying to be mad at him, even when play-fighting or harmless bantering, Taehyung, not a chance.

‘Listen,’ a seriousness settling between you, ‘get dressed, just sweatpants, and a shirt.’

‘Wait, what, why,’

‘Baby, listen for once. Just get dressed and give me five minutes.’

You looked at the blank screen, stunned. Your brain stuck at the word baby, and the effect it had. Your insides were mush, anxiety mollified, despite not knowing what he was about to do next.

‘Babe’, you knew, ‘babe’, you understood, that was normal, routine, best friend. But Baby?

You mulled over it as you discarded your vest, and threw on a loose Celine shirt. Pulling on your black sweats, a pair of socks and air force ones because who knows what this boy was up to, you stopped. You sniffed, once, twice, yep, that was Taehyung’s body wash, but what - oh, you tugged the loose collar toward your nose, yep, this was Tae’s shirt.

You composed yourself, almost deadpan at the small realization. When had he even stripped in your room and why weren’t you there.

Wrapping your messy hair into a bun, you restrained your mind from wandering further.

Your phone beeped from the bed and the screen lit up, a message popping up. ‘Look out your window.’

Peeping out you saw his black Jeep in your driveway. He popped his head out of the driver’s side window and did a two finger salute.

Shaking your head with a smile, you grabbed your phone and made your way downstairs through the house and out the front door.

‘What are you doing here,’ you asked as soon as he came into view. He looked good, white tee, black sweatpants, you matched, except for his leather jacket and red bandana.

He opened the passenger door on your side and leaned back, giving you a once over. His lips twitched as he rested his eyes on the shirt you wore. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wanted you in his shirt. You raised your eyebrow playfully, refusing to give life to something like butterflies and heart-eyes when your best friend stood in front of you. Life was complicated enough.

‘You needed me to show up.’ He said it a matter-of-factly, but you knew he wanted to be there for you and you couldn’t, not feel grateful, and a little warm, that he would get into his car drive to you, all because you needed him to.

Not waiting for you to reply, he threw a jersey at you. ‘Its cold,’ his tone left no room for protest and he cocked his head toward the jeep, a sign to get in.

You wrapped it around you silently, not moving, not yet.

‘Well,’ his thumb curled around the top of the steering wheel as the rest of his fingers straightened out, his freehand rising to follow his question, ’Come on, get in.’

‘Where are we going?’ You would have gotten in, you would probably end up wherever he was going to take you anyway, but where was the fun in doing everything obediently. Even puppies had wild streaks.

He raised his eyebrow this time, a smirk teasing his cheek, 'You're brave every night, y/n. But not tonight, not while you're with me, come, trust me, wherever we go I'll keep you safe.'

You turned to close and lock the front door, breathing out slowly, as slow and low as you could, doing your best to work on the constriction around your heart; his words too wiry, too strong, too genuine to forget, too deep to ignore. It made you so... agreeable.

Getting into the Jeep, you felt different as you sat here now, in a seat you had been in too many times to count. It was probably the time and the circumstances. Yeah, some shifts were just because of the time, and the air and because it was silent and the dead of night.

You said nothing more, even though a few minutes earlier you spoke into the phone like you would explode if you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, you would be alone in your head, if you weren’t able to make him understand.

You jumped slightly, as you felt his hand close over yours, and pull it toward him to brush his lips along your knuckles. It was an absent action, maybe, because he stared straight ahead, didn’t spare a glance at you as you stared at the side of his head, making it look like he wasn’t even aware he was doing what he was doing.

Swallowing against the pounding of your heart, you chalked this up too. Night time was vulnerable, everyone was just a little more sensitive, you didn’t have to make it more than it needed to be.

Looking out the window you noted the lights and dark windows, empty parks and streets, doing your best to ignore the heat against your hand, the breath against your knuckles, lips not very far away, that were capable of a lot more.

With some effort, you faded out the intensity of his actions, and as your eyes adjusted you saw familiar figures, and buildings you had driven past numerous times. You knew where you were going.

He pulled up in the parking lot of his safe haven. In retrospect, your safe place should be entirely different, but you were safe with Tae, that said, his peace was where you found yours.

Jumping out of the Jeep, you noted how dark and looming the two story building looked. A huge sign reading 'Blindspot' the only posh part about this place, black metal roller doors, spray painted names across the walls, some of the neon colors standing luminescent against the moonless night.

One would think it was graffiti, but the community knew better, the ones that came and went, some that stopped and never left, knew having your name on the wall was a privilege.

He jumped out too, after grabbing something from the back. Carrying it toward you, you noted his knapsack, and a box of some sort.

Handing it over to you to hold, you took hold of them silently, as he pulled out the keys to open the locks and deadbolt.

You watched him, his actions purposeful but he was at home, knowing which way the locks turned, the catch on the bolt needing to be kicked out a certain way before opening fully; he'd done this a thousand times before.

Lifting up the shutters, the noise too loud for the silent night, he opened the door and guided you in, making you all too aware of his palm in the small of your back. Taking the stuff from your hand and throwing it onto the edge of the ring and he lifted up to close the shutters behind you.

You took notice of the extra shirt that falls out of the pile on the ring, one of your favorites of his actually, grey with black spots, sort of like a giant cookies and cream oreo mix.

The empty gym in front of you was a contrast to the busy days it had. There was a weight section, the bags lined up against the far wall hanging still, having no impact thrown at it to sway the dead weight, and the machines had their own floor upstairs, treadmills overlooking the balustrades to the floor below, by the ring where you stood.

The pool area, directly below you, in the basements where the changing rooms and showers could be found.

It looked small on the outside, but inside there were stories to be told, motivation, encouragement, brotherhood, friendships solidified in stone and a fair share of violent memories with broken bones, broken bonds and broken hearts.

Walls were packed with quotes, anatomy teachings and pictures, schedules, a dedicated to growing trophy case with medals and newspaper clippings, and pictures of staff, members, and the boss, with his best friend.

What Tae didn't continue, was the stereotype of the grunge masculine look that came with gyms. Outside may be black as night, but inside there was color everywhere - a world within.

The punching bags were each a different shade, green, red, yellow and blue. The ring bottom was black, neon orange ropes running along the sides in three consecutive lines, and your personal favorite, a giant pride flag hung on a hook outside his office door.

Toxic masculinity wasn't allowed in Taehyung's gym. You could be yourself, make your own lifestyle choices and still be a good fighter or just work-out. He took it upon himself to punch the teeth out of anyone that thought otherwise. This was what he'd always wanted to do and he made it more than just a place to get healthy.

There were four hours, two for the morning, two for the afternoon, catered only to women. Tae understood that men will be men, no matter how much you tried to change it. And comfort mattered.

Working out and exercising, as much as it seemed, like a chore, it could be enjoyable. It could be a social setting, helping people to open up, and cope, providing the best way for them to be themselves.

You helped him find a premises, helped him choose color schemes, and sat in on interviews. For legal purposes you were an advisor and owned a small share percentage. You didn't want it, but Tae insisted, you were especially grateful when the gym grew into more than you both had expected it to become.

'Y/n,' he waved his hand in front of your face, the action snapping you out of your thoughts.

'Huh, sorry, did you say something?'

He smiled comfortingly, 'Take the jacket off and your shoes.'

Scrunching your eyebrows, you finally asked, 'Tae, what are we doing here?'

'We are,' he started explaining as he ripped open a box in his hand, 'doing something I feel you need.'

Looking at you pointedly, he motioned his eyes to the jacket.

Shucking it off, you took off your shoes and redid your bun for good measure.

'It's strange isn't it,' you voiced out loud. He perked up at your food for thought, fingers fiddling with white tape. 'It's strange, that I know every corner of this place, but I haven't ever put a pair of gloves on.'

He raised his hand absently, a student raising his hand to give an answer, his gaze focused on yours as he did. 'That's because you've never had the need to, I'm here to protect you.'

Turning away, you caught yourself, before you let your heart show in your eyes. You've known Tae for so long, been his best friend for years, why now, why this feeling, this tightness in your chest.

You played it off, and walked over to him, socked feet padding against the wooden floor boards.

Taehyung clicking his tongue startled you out of your effort to feel normal; you found him staring at your socks.

'Y/n, I've told the guys this numerous times, you can't spar in the boxing section with socks. It's a slipping hazard.' No trace of the out of the blue romantic words, he bent down easily removing them from your feet one after the other.

It would be weird, if you weren't already so used to his skinship, his cuddling when he slept over, his hand straying over your shoulder on the couch, or brushing against your waist when he passed you. Yet, his thumb, on your ankle, his hand as he circled and held it, even for just the moment that he laid your foot down after taking off the sock, you felt… taken.

You wanted to snort, the wording completely off, I mean, he had a right over you, always had but-

He came into focus, looking up at you from where he sat, and asked lightly,' Do you wash these.'

Your mouth dropped open, as you watched him hold your purple socks in between two fingers, like it would bite him, or the smell would.

Your knee nudged at the side of his face playfully as you reached to pull him up. He took your socks, holding them properly now and put them in his bag, picking up the white tape he was fidgeting with earlier.

'So, will I be sparring with you today?' You were excited now. You had watched people vent and let themselves be free as they learned technique, let themselves be violent without consequences, the satisfaction on their faces after their sessions.

When he finally reaches you again he finds the catch and opens it out. White athletic tape, used to make arms and wrists stiffer, and to provide better grip, even with sweat and slick.

'No, not today. Let's focus on getting you worked up and tired. If you enjoy it, I'll gladly let you go toe to toe with me.' His eyes held a challenge, an underlying meaning evident.

Offering your hands up freely, he taped your wrists and fingers, you've seen him do it many times, just never on your wrists. Experimentally you shook out your fingers and bent and scrunched your wrist to allow for the right amount of tightness.

'Cocky, aren't you, Mr. Kim,' you side-eyed him.

He leaned into you, his breath teasing yours, 'I am the Coach here, y/n.' You blinked at the nervous fluttering in your chest, his intimidation, usually not directed so closely to you, doing something you couldn't explain, couldn't quite grasp.

Somehow, you should be scared, but it was, hot.

Leaning into him, breath for breath, you matched up, 'Then teach me.'

A slow smile broke out over his lips, playful Tae was back, it let you navigate things easier, you knew what to expect.

'So, I'm boxing the bag,' you deduced. 'I don't see why I need to tire myself out. I don't know how to do this.'

His palms closed over your cheeks, puffing your face up, emphasizing your pout. 'You are frustrated. You can't do anything about any of your emotions tomorrow, y/n. You have to be patient. You have to remind yourself it's a day at a time that gets you to your future. It will always be about patience.'

'Unfortunately, patience is overrated at something to 4am,’ you complained as he let go of your face and bent down to produce a new set of gloves from under the ring. Opening the zip of the bag, he pushed one toward you.

Shaking his head at your antics, not even phased, he strapped the gloves to both your hands and walked toward a bag. 'Come on, try it.'

'Color?'

'The yellow one.' He made to stand behind the bag you chose, and held either side of it, knees bent slightly in a defensive stance.

Feeling slightly out of place, and awkward, you huffed and punched the bag just to humor him.

You stared at it. The fucking thing didn't even move.

He burst out laughing at the comical look on your face.

'Okay, wait no,' he composed himself and came around you. His breath fanned your neck, giving you goosebumps, as he held your wrists and showed you how to punch. 'So straighten your elbow, like this, and pull it back in and see how the gloves are shaped, your forefingers curl above your thumb, so inside your glove your thumb shouldn't be in the fist.'

Nodding as you took in the new information, you did your best not to get distracted as he continued, all too comfortable in his element.

'When your wrist hits the bag don't curl it, let it face the impact head on. See, this is how you do it, so you don't break your wrist.' He made you punch the bag and showed you where your wrist was bending and how to keep it tight.

'Alright, baby,' that word, that goddamn word, 'you good to try again?'

Closing your eyes and swallowing hard, you nodded in answer and shook your head out of the Tae trance.

'Start with a simple combo this time, Jab, Jab, Uppercut, Hook.' You knew the names and their directions. Jab was straight forward, twice fast on the submissive hand as a set-up, the uppercut from downward into the abdomen or chin, depending, and the hook, from the dominant hand rounding off on the face.

'Think of it all y/n,' he encouraged, as he walked to his original position, 'the people, the words, the expectations, the beating up of yourself you do on a daily basis, and just go for it.'

Spreading your legs in a stance, aiming at the bag on his command, you clenched your fists and focused.

'Go'

----

'And breathe.'

Breathing heavily you fell flat to the floor, and stared up at the ceiling.

Sweat was in your eyes and your hair, but despite being in dire need of a shower, you felt oddly at ease. Tiny zings of exertion shot through your body as your lungs begged for air and you heard your blood rushing.

The roof was really pretty you thought, the wood positioned in long blocks to form and hold up the gable, grabbing your attention for the first time ever.

You blinked as Tae's face came into view, his hands resting on his knees.

He smirked cutely as he brushed your sweat slicked hair out of your eyes and off your face before reaching down to pick you up off the floor.

Handing you a water bottle, you let him manhandle you as he lifted your form to sit on the edge of the ring, launching himself up to sit next to, a second later.

'How do you feel?' He was proud of himself no doubt, after all, his plan did succeed.

You made a face at him, anyway.

'Hey,' he put both his hands up in mock surrender. 'It worked, didn't it.'

You cut him some slack, this time. 'Yeah, I feel icky, but definitely less worked up.'

---------

🎶 - Black Swan - BTS

TAE

Taking a swig of the water you had opened in your hand, he looks at the top of your head as he closes it and puts it away.

'Hey.'

She looks up at him, eyes hooded in exhaustion.

He smiles at her. Despite how much he loved her spitfire, she's adorable when she's not talking back.

He knew of the thoughts that crawled up her spine on a daily basis. He knew she had no plan, and it made her hyper that she didn't have one, but she couldn't make one because, what if she chose wrong.

He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to tell her that she could be whatever she wanted to be, and he would fly her across the ocean if she really wanted it; that she didn't need to worry about life so much because he would always take care of her.

'You're too sad.'

She scrunched her eyebrows at him.

'You have the whole weight of the world on your shoulders and you can't do anything about it.' He chose his next words carefully. 'I wish you could take a breather, and let a thought be a thought instead of picking it apart.'

He held up his hand to her when she made to protest.

'You know, things may not feel okay right now, with work, or at home, and in your head. But I've never seen someone adapt like you have. You bounce back, despite how much grit it takes.'

He took the gloves off her hand and carefully unwinded the tape on her fingers.

'I don't have answers y/n. But I do know you have me for a long time and I'm going to be here as you do your thing.'

Placing pressure on each finger he massaged the tightness out of it and flexed it for her.

'I don't know where you're supposed to go, if you were meant to leave and give me a round-the-world heartbreak, I'm not sure who you're supposed to be, I don't even know if you have a higher purpose, it wouldn't surprise me if you did, but you, y/n,' he heaved a sigh as he faced her, his gaze meeting hers, his next words the most important thing she'd need to remember,' you're a good you.'

As he met her eyes, her breath hitched. He heard it. He could see the flush in her face. He knew he was being honest. He knew he meant every word.

A half smile, a heavy acceptance, hands that were so easy to hold, eyes that were never anything but honest, a bond that all but forced a person to keep swimming. That was Taehyung to y/n. And that was y/n to Taehyung.

'You're a really, good you,' he reinforced. 'Right now, it works. I have a feeling it will work for a very long time.'

'I'm scared.' He could hear it in her voice. He heard it back when she was in her room too.

'Nothing is really set in stone, babe. And even though it does feel like you're running out of time, it's something you can't help. It's not what you want to hear but it's true.'

'How do I stop being sad?'

She was deflecting. But he had said it before, it wouldn't be gone tomorrow. Her anxiety and her fears, they will probably never go away.

She had the right way to go about it though. You get through it. Somehow. Some days it's a good cry, some days it's with a punching bag, and some days, it was with a best friend.

'See, now that's why you have me.' He answered confidently, as he put his chest out, his need to have her be okay, her smile, her laugh, his only intentions, his favorite thing these days.

'Oh really, you, why, because you're a clown.'

He feigned offense at the statement. 'Excuse me, I am not a clown, ask anyone that comes in for the 5am rush.'

She looked up at the clock in shock, it was really going half-four. She turned back to him sadly, 'I kept you up all night.'

'It was a fun night,' he replied, the teasing of many other ways to keep him up on the tip of this tongue, deciding against it, he looked away from her. 'You needed me, no amount of sleep is worth that.'

He didn't explain himself, he really didn't mind the lack of sleep. He could easily catch a nap in his office, or head home after half a day. But this, this moment with his best friend, that he wanted to be more, he knew he wouldn't choose to be anywhere else. He knew he'd do it over again too.

Pushing off the ring he grabbed the knapsack and handed her his shirt. 'Change out of that shirt, and use this one, you'll catch a cold, because of the sweat. And let's get you home, you need a hot shower, and sleep. I'll drop by for dinner after work too.'

Finally turning to her, he found she hadn't moved an inch, unshed tears in her eyes. Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her toward him, sweat and all, and held her in his arms. 'You're first y/n, you'll always be first.'

A tender kiss on her head, his words rendering her speechless, and he knew uncharted waters were on the horizon.

This night, things that he'd said, the ways in which she responded, it was going to shift things for them.

But silence was comfortable for them. And she drank his share of coffee while he ate her share of pineapple, because he couldn't stand coffee and she hated pineapple. And he could hold her in his arms and she'd use his shirt while they slept.

It would start small, but he'd show her, the future was bright, she was deserving of more than she understood, she would be protected from her family and expectations and she would learn to remember, purpose or no purpose she wasn't alone, she never would be again.

[purplekiwis]

XI - Silly Love Songs* (How is it that a ruined date could end so happily?)

Listen to the Damaged Goods Spotify Playlist: Here Listen to Harry's Silly Love Songs Spotify Playlist: Here Series Masterlist: Here

Genre: Enemies to Lovers | College AU

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Alcohol & Drug Use, Borderline Abusive Behavior

Wordcount: 17K A/N: There's some fucking 😏

Harry's smell still lingers on your clothes as you silently walk down the residence’s long hallway. Any trace of purple on your lips now far gone, and holding the pair of black combat boots you’d left your room with in one of her hands, since you had decided to remove them at the entrance, for the sake of any sleeping neighbors you might have.

Your socked feet pat quietly against the unclean flooring tiles. A silly smile you aren’t aware of painted on your lips as you recall your favorite parts of the conversations you had with Harry throughout the night. There is something wild pumping in your veins, something that is making you want to run back the yards that now separate you from him. You want to come knocking on his door, slither into his bed and fall asleep with the awareness of his body being right there, glued to yours in a sleepy warm embrace. You won’t go though. Not only because you need to change your pad, get something to eat, take off your make-up and brush your teeth, but also because even though Harry seems to enjoy your company, he didn’t invite you to stay the night with him. And you really don’t want to come off as pushy or obtrusive by showing up at his door uninvited in your cuffed pajama bottoms at 3am.

The desire still haunts your mind though, as you cattily rotate the knob and push your dorm’s door open, careful not to wake your roommate, and- “Where have you been?” Ameena’s familiar voice startles you. She was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, waiting for you in pitch darkness like a mom waiting for her unreliable teenage daughter to come home after a night out. “What are you doing still awake?” You hiss, flicking the light up on your way inside. “Waiting for you... Obviously.” She flat out acknowledges. “Where did you go? And don’t even think about lying to me because I know you’ve told our friends you were with me, only I-” She takes her hand to her chest. “haven’t seen you all night.” You shrug lightly. “I was with Harry.” You say in the most flat-out tone possible as you hurry on removing your practically homemade costume piece by piece, hoping Ameena would mistake your casualty for a clear conscience. “Oh.” She voices, with an unexpected punch of surprise in her tone, making you tilt your head to look in her face. “No, I knew that.” She clarifies swiftly. “I just wasn’t expecting that you would admit to it so quickly.” “You did?" Your brows pinch alarmingly. "How?" You should've left it at that, you really should've... but you don't. Instead you ask something stupid, that only fuels Ameena's glimmerings even more. "Did you... uh... see anything weird?” “Why?" She pushes, as her face screws with inquisitiveness, and perhaps some amusement as well. "Was there anything weird for me to see?” “No, no..." You try shaking your head to give emphasis to the word, but it's not working. "I was just wondering how you could be so sure.” You add, albeist jittery and feeling like, at this point, your face might've as well just have the word 'blameworthy' written all over it. “Because he went missing as well, at the same time you did…” “That doesn’t mean anything. There were lots of people at that party.” You dismiss her statement, throwing your used party clothes over your desk with a conclusive huff. “I’m gonna go make myself a bowl cereal." You inform fleetly, as you start kicking out the slippers half hidden under your bed before clumsily sliding your feet inside them. "Do you want anything from the kitchen?” “I want you to quit trying to throw dust into my eyes and talk to me about what is going on between you two once and for all.” Ameena asked, groaning with annoyance. “Oh, and-" Her face lights up and she raises her finger up to call your attention. "a packet of java chip oreos, please. And one of your mango juice boxes as well, since you asked.” **

Roughly five minutes later you were walking back inside the room and watching your roommate’s tired expression lift as you threw the juice and packet of coffee flavored cookies at her.

She tore it apart immediately, moaning mid-bite like the cookie she'd just shoved in her mouth was the best piece food she'd ever had in her life. “Why do sweet treats always taste so much better when you’re supposed to be on a diet?”

“I have no idea," You sat in your bed facing her, bending your body in a similar cross-legged position just so that you could position the bowl filled with your favorite cereal over your lap. "but it’s 3am... no one’s eating healthy at 3am anyway.”

“Agreed. 3am is for sugary snacks and unappeasable mistakes only.” Ameena said as she tore open the wrapping of the box’s small straw, pulling and bending it before poking it through the box. “Speaking of mistakes…” She remarked, taking the pink straw between her teeth and sucking lightly. “Are you planning to tell me what you’ve been up to tonight or are you going to make me guess? Cause I’ve got a whole list of sacrilegious options I’ve been conjuring while you were gone, and I would be more than happy to-”

“No! No, thank you. There’s no need to go there.” You held your hand out to stop her from speaking any further, right as you took a calculated spoon of cereal to your mouth, chewing slowly as you debated on how to go on about the whole thing. Should you cut the crap once and for all and tell her everything? Should you just paint the big picture? or should you stick to your initial plan and keep things just between you and Harry?

But with the way your friend was gawking and wiggling in place, you could she was starting to get hot under her collar with the sudden muteness from your part, so you figured the least you could do was tell her the nuts and bolts of your night. “Honestly not much," You say, still partly chewing. "We just went for a beer...”

"And...?" A grin pulls at her mouth, eager to finally get some enlightenment on her speculations.

"And then he brought me home. -- that's it.”

"Hm." The curly-haired girl hummed over the ruffling sound of the wrapper, as she stuck her fingers back inside and dug for another cookie. “Was that all? Didn’t anything else happen?” She locked eyes with you, squinting some. “Didn’t he like, try to make a move to kiss you or anything?”

“Um…” You peeped at her from the top of your lashes, with your lips wrapped around the metal spoon you'd just taken to your mouth. “We uh, I guess we both kind of did, yeah.”

Ameena chokes bad on her cookie then, some fractions of it flying directly from her mouth as she coughs with surprise. “Okay, … What the fuck?!” She's still coughing, and you're debating on wether it's really necessary for you put down your cereal and come help, but as you start to get up she holds her hand out to stop you. “You’ve been pining over that man for months. How are you not screaming in happiness right now?”

“Excuse me?” You babbled offendedly. “I have not been pining over him.” “Yes, you have! But either way… you just kissed the guy! What the fuck is wrong with you?” She insisted, waving her hand in front of her face and slowly draining on her juice to try and stop the stubborn intermittent coughs still going. “Oh no… it wasn't good, was it? Was it awkward? Did you smack teeth?” “Okay… um, so... There’s something I’ve got to tell you." You start aprehensively. "I know I should’ve told you earlier but... Tonight wasn’t the first time." Ameena's jaw drops some with surprise, and if you weren't so nervous, perhaps you would've laughed at the way her lips started pumping at nothing, seeking for the straw that wasn't there. "We’ve actually been seeing each other… occasionally,” You made sure to remark. “… for a month and some…” “Define seeing each other..." She eggs on, shaking away her bewilderment. "Like, how far have you…”

“Pretty far…” You purse your lips, nodding your head as you reminisce. “Like, almost all the way far…”

“Shut the fuck up. No, you haven’t. Have you? Oh my god, have you seen his dick?” You opted not to answer her, but your face did it for you. Or so you realized once she took a big gasp and looked at you like you had just confessed to have hosted a spa day without her. “You’re a whore for not telling me.” She tells you, no pinch of grace to her stance besides the choke that escapes her once she notices the sudden starkness of your face. “Well maybe... but it’s not like you did better, is it?” You yammer back at her, and immediately she shifts a little in place. If you had not just came out of such a noisy party, you're sure you would've be able to hear her heart jump in her chest.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She challenges.

“It means," You start, unable to stop yourself from smiling a little at your own wittiness. "I found something the other day that made your crush on that Scottish guy from Outlander start making a whole lot more sense... That being that you have a thing for redheaded beefy guys with beards and pretty blue eyes.”

“How did you find out?” Ameena gasps, although she doesn't seem taken aback, she's more surprised than anything else.

"Find out what?" You're totally acting like a smarty pants now. "That you have a thing for redheaded beefy guys or that you're dating Vincent?"

"The last one." She grumbles.

“Oh, that would be cause I caught you at school the other day.” You reveal, unable to stop a little proud grin from showing up into your face when you see her purse her lips, musing over her past secret encounters with Vincent, trying to figure out when and where you could've seen them. “And, although it's a very unexpected pairing, I actually think you look really cute together…”

“Really? You think so?”

“Yeah, and well... I can't really say I know Vincent, since I only talked to him once or twice, but he seems really chill and sweet." You allege honestly, retrospecting over that time he went out of his way to help you, a practical stranger, that time you had your major freak out episode at Madison's birthday party. "And it’s not even like oh, they make a nice pair because they’re both cute, it was the way you guys were acting around each other. It was so precious! I don’t know how to explain it better, but it felt like a good match.”

“Aww… Really? It makes me so happy that you thought that... And same! About you and Harry.” You rolled your eyes at her, figuring that she was only returning the compliment to make you happy. “No, I’m serious… You know I’ve always shipped you lot together, even though I figured Harry to be a bit of an ass. Vincent always says he’s great though... He just happens to look a bit intimidating 'cause he frowns a lot.”

“Yeah…” You smile to yourself, thinking back to when that same thought had occurred to you when talking to Harry for the first time. “He’s actually sort of a mush-ball beneath the surface, believe it or not.”

“Really? Does that mean he’s sweet and not like, you know… super dominant in bed?”

“Ameena…”

“Come on… He’s freaky, isn’t he?” She's wallowing in it now, basking on the way you're growing all hot and bothered over her prying. “Does he make you call him Sir while you’re at it?”

“No, he doesn’t. But if he did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Come on… You can’t not tell me. It’s Harry we’re talking about." You brush her off with a shake of your head, placing your finished bowl of cereal over your nightstand and getting up from the bed in order to go use the bathroom. "It’s practically community dick with how much it’s constantly in everyone’s mouths- Metaphorically speaking of course!” She only adds the last part when you tosses her shoulder with a displeased 'heyyy'.

You know what she means though. Ever since first week Harry and his prick have remained a constant topic of discussion during the freshmen's rehearsal breaks. Which is partly why you skip them as much as you can. Not only because it enfuriates you beyond belief to hear others spitting out hunches about what shape and size he must be, but also because you're sure one day you'll lose it and jump at someone's throat amidst them sharing a dirty fantasy where Harry has them up against a cherry tree or some shit. “What do you want me to say? He’s… nice, great even! I’m obviously not going to go into details about his dick, but I think we get along pretty well when it comes to… sexy stuff.” You're already cringing at yourself for using that term, but Ameena only seems mildly happy with the answer she’s got, so you make yourself continue. “He likes to take care of me… always makes sure I’m comfortable with what we’re doing… He’s sweet, and hot and-"

Your phone dings, and you reach out to check it. "...and I’m fucked.” You cuncur as you read the texts popping up in your phone.

[Harry: How do I get this purple lipstick off my face?]

[Harry: Also, why are you not in my bed?]

"Was that him?" Ameena pokes, noticing you smiling silly at your phone.

You sigh all pampery. "Is it stupid that miss him already?"

“No... it's not stupid. I'm like that with Vincent all the time as well..." She chuckles, shaking her head amusedly. "So... you really like Harry, huh?"

"Yeah." You smile, nodding affirmatively. "He makes me feel happy."

You weren't feeling happy with Harry.

And you had a good reason for it.

He had decided to do a little number on you... by sending you a text on friday night saying that he had been checking the other day and you still had a couple of burpees to do before he could bring your punishment to a close.

Which had already kicked off a bit of a bellyache on you.

Because well, you had kind of assumed you had silently agreed on letting those slide, since he never brought up the punishing again, even after you were done with the chaotic school assignment weeks.

But no, the fact that you were going to have to waste part of your saturday sweating a couple of hundreds of burpees off your body, instead of feasting on a fancy italian latte and a cinnamon bun with your best friend like you usually did, although being a sucky situation, still wasn't the reason why you were upset.

No. You were upset because the little shit had lied to you!

When you showed up at the usual parking lot on saturday morning as scheduled, fresh out of bed, cold, sleepy eyed and looking like a right mess in yoga pants, sports shoes, a sweater that didn't really match your outfit that well and your backpack stuffed with a reusable water bottle and half a box of granola bars, you were expecting to find Harry in a similar sporty, casual outfit, like the ones he usually wore the times he penciled your punishment appointments last minute on weekend days.

Except this time, that wasn't the case. He showed up looking like a right dream.

He was bearing down against his car, dressed in black jeans and ankle boots (ever so typical of him), a cornflower blue sweater that fit him like a glove and brought out the color of his eyes, and a padded bomber jacket that made him look all cushy and warm and somehow made you want to go and hug him ever more.

Even his hair looked particularly nicer, for god's sake.

The layers had been slicked back with some sort of wax, but somehow his fluffy waves remained as dainty and unruly as ever, bouncing beautifully every time the morning breeze blew over them.

"Good mornin' sunshine." He'd greeted merrily as soon as he spotted you walking over, looking crabby, snoozy and like you'd much rather still be out of his, and the rest of the world's sight.

"Mornin." You replied briefly, feeling your limbs ivoluntarily twist in a big stretch. "What's with all the primping today?" You nod towards his outfit playfully, ready to start some casual banter. "Are you going on a date after this or something?"

"I am." The teasing smile drops of your face instantly, being replaced by an expression of sudden alarm, with bulging eyes and a lowered jaw but then he grins at you. "We are, actually."

"What?" Your mind is confused ... and so is your body, because now there's sparkly butterflies growing from places you'd just felt were ripped to pieces by feral, ruthless fangs.

"Sweet baby," Harry's grinning at you from ear to ear. "You should've seen your face..." His teasing, although sweet, is not helping the angry blood still sizzling inside your veins ever the slighest. "Did you get jealous thinking that I was going out with some pretty girl that wasn't you?" "Why would I get jealous?" You huff, putting your backpack down on the sidewalk and sitting next to it. "Also, what do you mean we're having a date? I'm noway ready to go anywhere dressed like this."

"Rubbish..." Harry starts, sitting on the sidewalk next to you. "It was supposed to be a surprise, so I obviously wasn't expecting you to show up all dolled up, you know?"

"Then what the hell were you thinking was going to happen?"

"I don't know." He huffs, smiling a little at the same time. "I just wanted to see you... and hopefully spend a nice day together." Your heart feels warm. Warm and happy inside your chest besides the angry pout displayed on your face. "Which was maybe a shit idea if you're about to turn me down."

Harry's looking at you like a sad puppy and you hate it. Hate that his eyes are making you feel like a terrible owner about to push their pet out the door while it's raining and there's a thurderstorm approaching in the sky. "I'm not turning you down..." You start, immediately watching his face warm. What is only making you feel worse as you carry on with your stance. "I'm turning your date invitation down. Today, specifically." He pouts a little at the news. "Why?"

"Harry, look at me!" You chuckle warmheartedly, uprising and flashing your oversized, sports sweater at him. "I look hideous! There's no way I'm going anywhere with you all spruce and looking like a dreamboat while I have this and cheap yoga pants on." His head drops a little, so you bring your finger to his chin and push it up. "You know I'll be more than happy to go on a date with you anytime, as long as you give me a couple hours notice just so that I can get ready."

"But I like your yoga pants..." Harry insists, tilting his head and giving your outfit a quick once-over. "They make your butt look peachy." He heckles, making you gasp and smack over his bulky shoulder, pretending to be more offended than you are. "Can never win with you, can I?" He puffs, getting up from the sidewalk. “Either way," He picks and bunts your heavy backpack over his back before he starts walking towards his car. You're staring at him confusedly as you watch him open the trunk and throw your bag in there. "Date or no date we'll still have to drive past IKEA." Your eyebrows irk. "I saw online that they have lava lamps like your roommate's one that we broke. You know her better than I do, so you should be able to figure out which one she'll like most.” You don't want to go to IKEA. You want to drag Harry with you back to the dorms and force him to watch Knives Out with you. Preferably under a blanket, whilst sharing a box of buttered microwave popcorn, all cozy and snug so that maybe he will let you hold his hand during the suspense parts.

But now Harry wants to go to IKEA...

And you're not ready to give on his company yet. "Okay fine..." You shrug defeatedly, "I guess my yoga pants might be good enough for shopping at 9am on a saturday..." With no more 'ifs' or 'buts' you walk towards the car, where Harry awaits you with a happy grin as he opens the passenger's door for you. “Since there is no date," He tips as you're about to to slide into your seat. "can I charge you for the kiss now?”

“No.” You nudge, facetiously as you step inside the car.

"What?" He shakes his head confusedly and bends down, sticking his head inside the car after you. “Not even a little one?” You laugh a bit, leaning over and giving a lusty smooch over his cheek because he looks right cute and you can't say no to him, especially when he's sulking at you like he is now.

He gives you a cheek kiss back, before retracting and pushing your door closed. Just as swiftly he climbs into the drivers seat, flicks his seatbelt on, adjusts the mirrors and starts the car. "If it makes you feel better, I didn't have anything proper planned for today... not like a fancy restaurant or anything like that..." He pats your knee, giving it a light squeeze before drawing his hand back to the stirring wheel. "With that said, you're sitting in my car now... so I guess I get to do with you as I please... and that includes taking you with me anywhere i feel like going."

"Huh?" You question, tilting your body towards him the best you can with the seatbelt on.

"You heard it right." Despite the spiritedness in his smile, you can tell by the solemn look in his face as he spares a quick glance in your direction that he's being serious. "I think you look lovely in that sportswear, just the same as when you wear a pretty dress. And since I'm the one taking you out today, I think you should consider my opinion, even if its just this once." You groan with annoyance, crossing your arms and legs and pushing yourself further into the seat. You're a bit worked-up at Harry's approach, but you also can't help feeling flattered that somehow he still finds you pretty when your eyes look puffy and the state of your hair makes it seem like you've just stuck a finger in a light socket. Harry's still staring at you.

You can feel it more than you can see it through the rear view mirror by taking casual glimpses at it.

It's not until after a couple of minutes of silent bemoaning, once your mood finally starts to perk up, that you risk flashing your first smile at Harry through the reflection. It's a mischievious one. And the one you always put on before leaning down towards the car radio to switch his favorite music station for the one you like most.

Your goal of finding the perfect song is quickly forgotten though, once you find yourself in the situation of having to scold your driver for disregarding the speed limits within the university fields. He laughs and shakes his head at your concern, but still takes his foot to the brake and shifts to a lower gear. “Do you drive?” He asks, tilting his head at your for a brief glance.

You move around in your seat a little, inquisitive as to why the question. “No, not yet… Why?”

“Noticed your staring," He says matter-of-factly, taking his hand to the dash to finish what you didn't get to do. "So I thought you were silently judging my gear technique.” He keeps flipping through the stations until you're asking him to stop, since you finally found a song you think it's worth listening to.

“No… I was just looking, no judgement.” You assert, keeping it to yourself that the reason behind your immersion was the size and attractiveness of his hands and not so much the change lever. “Looks complicated.”

He spares you another glance, smiling amusedly. “Wanna try it?”

“Um…" You hiss, fixing your eyes on the gizmo in front of you, while evaluating the proposition. "I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you crash us...” Harry promises, showing off a full and cheerful smile while extending his hand towards you. “C’mon, give me your hand.”

“Where do I…” You buzz with a circular motion of your hand.

“Here,” He said, softly patting the handle. “Just place it here.”

You did what he asked you to, although a little apprehensively. Once your hand was laying there, he moved his palm to rest on the back of your hand, curling his fingers together with yours so that he could still have a firm grip over the handle. “Relax…” He prompted, noticing your stressed-out face. “You don’t have to do anything, just follow my lead…” He said, only proving that he genuinely could not tell that the reason behind your sweaty palms was more so his delicate touching, than the bloody tool you were holding. Good.

Your hand simply remains there for a little while, until you come across your first traffic light. It is one Harry could easily speed through if he wanted, since the light was still shining yellow... but he choses to slow down and let it shift to red instead.

Once the car stills, Harry gently pulls both your hands to neutral, then left, and up to 1 again. “See, it’s easy.” He simpers, shifting his gaze to you briefly before setting his eyes back on the light.

His thumb still carried on petting the soft side of your pinky as he waited for it to change to green. “Should I take it out now?” You ask. Not that you want to pull your hand away, but you were mildly worrying that it was getting in the way of his driving.

He smiled at you. “You can let it stay if you want to… For practice.”

IKEA's showrooms were nice, but not really up your alley if you're honest.

When it comes to house decorations, you're more into those effervescent colors and shapes most people believe should remain inside museums.

You like bubblegum pink feature walls, opulent spaces with too many artworks, rooms divided by archways, mustard yellow couches, ceramic cactus décor, circular mirrors and that 21st century witch aesthetic that is in no way comparable to IKEA’s minimalistic lines.

Their brand new furniture line is exhibited by the front of the store, set inside small custom-built rooms made of thin white walls. They all share the same theme. Practical, but modern. In all warm, earthy tones, with eco-focused furniture pieces and rust, green and blue colored sofas that you and Harry are swerving through as you probe around the store, looking for the lava lamp section.

You end up getting a little lost there, as everyone always does at IKEA stores, but fortunately, you're in good company today, so anytime you get disinterested in looking at furniture, you'll peek at Harry instead.

Well, it’s more the other way around really...

But unlike it happens with boho carpets and ceiling lights, you never get tired of looking at Harry. In fact, you're almost certain you could watch him shuffle through trendy shower curtains throughout the whole day without getting bored.

Harry’s entertaining to look at.

Especially when he spots a home gadget he isn’t familiar with and his eyebrows curve with curiosity as he balances forward over his foot to get a better look… and when he scrunches up his nose at design choices he finds questionable. He isn’t an appreciator of peel-and-stick wallpapers, you're guessing... and you also believe he doesn’t like bedrooms with matching furniture sets and laminate kitchen cabinets trying too hard to pass as real wood.

And yes, you're thinking about it.

How could you not?

You're trying not to entertain the thought, but it’s hard when you've been mistaken for a newlywed couple looking to furnish their brand new house by 4 different employees already.

So your brain is wondering… imagining how waking up besides Harry every morning and coming home to him at the end of a tiring workday would be like.

Curling up on the couch on a sunday afternoon, the balcony windows open because the weather’s sunny. The curtains are flowing in and out and there's a cheesy movie playing on the telly that you've seen way too many times, but still never remember the ending of.

There are two teacups set on the coffee table, but you haven't finished yours yet because you're too busy playing with Harry's hair, braiding it out of boredom. And although he keeps complaining that you're pulling too hard, he makes no effort to push away.

You're guessing you would still bicker over other silly things, though.

Like who's turn it is to load the dishwasher or why there's a paper container thrown in the yellow recycling bin. You can see it vividly in your head... you both disheveled in your pajamas crossing swords in the kitchen.

It gets ugly, and bad and dirty…

But then, in the middle of the argument Harry cracks a toothy smile because you stuttered a word or used a poor choice of an insult on him; It's one of those smiles of his that never fail to knock your socks off and make your insides twist... You feel all madness crumble apart then… and laughing along with him you ask: "We're being idiots again, aren't we?"

You're blaming having these soppy thoughts on Harry entirely.

On the way his hand keeps searching for your lower back to call your attention anytime he feels like asking what color you like most out of an item with multiple color options.

This time it was a room divider.

You said she liked the bamboo one better. He agreed.

Behind the divider there was another room setup. With a white wooden his and hers wardrobe, with multiple doors and sections. Neither of you could resist to opening a couple of doors to have a peek inside, only to get disappointed by finding nothing but empty drawers and woven baskets. Next to the wardrobe was a sitting area, with a nice beige chair, a hanging rack filled with magazines and cute potted houseplant hangers stuck to the walls…

But the star in the room, at least to you, was the small, vintage looking gold side table stuck to the wall. With its thin wavy feet and a storage spot underneath it. “Oh my god!” You fussed, moving around the room as fast as floating body just so that you can reach it.

Evoking the fictional divisions of your dream house, you decided this would be a perfect purchase for the living room… To place right next to the purple velvet couch you also wanted, so that you could slot your favorite scented candle pot over it. And magazines with cool covers, and a magical looking amethyst lamp… A fake one, because not even your idealized self has the money for real crystals.

Either way, you're obsessed with it.

“Harry, look! Isn’t it super cool?” You mewl, turning your head to the side, hoping to get Harry’s validation. “I know it’s very Parisian chic, but on the other hand… it’s like it could perfectly belong in Steven Tyler’s beach house or something.”

He shakes his head amusedly, staring down at you as you kneel next to the table, over the silky caramel brown rug. “I’ll confess I have no idea what Parisian chic looks like, but it looks about perfect for coke snorting, so I’m guessing you’re right about the last part…”

Harry’s hands were behind his back as he carried on inspecting the space. Picking up a couple of decoration items from the shelves to see them up close from time to time.

You notice him reaching for one of the books; a bright yellow one with ‘On Modernism’ written in large bold pink letters on the cover. “It’s a pretty damn cool table though…” He said as he flipped through the pages. What a dummy, you thought, noticing his eyebrows pinching together displeasingly as he finally comes to realize that it was only a decoration prop. “How much is it?” He questioned, closing and jamming the book back in place.

“It’s…” You checked the price tag, solely out of curiosity because no matter how much you loved that table, there was no possible justification to invest in such a fancy piece of furniture at this erratic stage of your life. “Suddenly not so cute...”

You flip the tag in his direction.

“350 pounds for that tiny table?" Harry's eyes widen. "That’s about the same price as this bedframe...” He flops his ass over the meticulously made double bed without any hesitation. “Which is far more worthy, if I say so myself…” He says, letting his body fall back against the oversized olive green coverlet and clasping his hands over his stomach.

“Harry…” You chuckle meekly, getting back on your feet and walking around the bed when you see him press his eyes shut like he was about ready for a nap. “Lift up from there before someone sees you and we get kicked out.”

Your foot never ceases kicking at his ankles until you spot his eyes reopening. “How about you stop worrying so much and just come here and cuddle me?” He soughed sleepily as he stretched his arms above his head, making his shirt ride up enough to give you a quick glimpse of the trail of hair thriving down, towards his crotch. It was enough to bring a warmth to your cheeks and prompt you to shift your gaze away. “Sides, if anyone asks, we can always say our budget’s too tight to invest on a bed without trying it out first. They'll eat that up, don’t you think... wifey?”

You avoided the question by focusing your attention somewhere else, rummaging through a stack of plush bed comforters like you actually meant to buy one. “All I know is that you’re going to fall asleep and I’m going to leave you there.” You admonished once you finally felt gutsy enough to spare the boy another look. Only to realize that his eyes, however dozy, had remained fixed on you.

“I won’t fall asleep, just gimme two minutes...” He gave a blissful sigh, spreading his arms wide over the bedding. “Besides, I know you won’t leave. You’re stuck with me for the day, remember? Unless you’d rather go back to the parking lot to do your burpees...”

“For the day?” You questioned concernedly. “Are you actually planning to take me somewhere else?”

Going to the beach during the cold months is always nice. Ever since you remember, you have always enjoyed it. You like the way the air is misty and smells saltier than it does in the summer. With every breath inhaled, it feels like nature is cleaning your whole body through your lungs. Your lips taste salty and gritty from the sand particles flying around your face, and the coolness of the wind is making your legs feel numb, which isn’t great for running when an unforeseeable wave disperses further than you were expecting, but still... it feels great. The weather was bright that day. The sunrays broke through the clouds and made the salty water glisten silver. There are a couple of gulls mewing in the sky above your head, besides them, there’s no one here. Just you and Harry, strolling down the sand as the ocean waves rapture fiercely against the shore. You had been collecting seashells and hiding them in your pocket throughout your walk, just so you could throw them at Harry when you caught him distracted. He’s given you two warnings so far. “I’m not kidding Y/N.” He'd menaced, “One more and I'm taking you for a bath.” “I’m not scared of you.” You had replied with a snicker as you scampered towards the dunes to make sure he couldn’t get back at you. You do this mostly because you're a natural pesterer, and also because you like to rile Harry up by startling him when he thinks you're done and that there are no more scraps left in her pocket. Except there always are. “Oops.” You smirk devilishly. “Guess there was one more after all.” You laugh when he winces back at you, and that’s when his patience finally snaps and he starts sprinting. You let out a squeak and start running, but it’s pointless. Harry’s legs are longer and faster, and his body is more resilient to the way his feet cave into the icy sand as he trails after you. Your only hope now is that he won’t be able to pick you up… but he is. He grabs you from the back and wraps his arms around your middle. “No, no, no!” You’re blubbering the word repeatedly, kicking to try skirmishing away from his hold… but it’s not working; he’s still dragging you towards the sea. “No, Harry, please... it’s too cold… please don’t.” “Oh it’s cold, is it? Should’ve though of that earlier.” You’re pushing up your legs, trying to climb up Harry’s body as his feet finally reach the shoreline. “Last chance. Say sorry.” “I’m sorry. I’m sorry." You’re whimpering at that point, grabbing zealously onto Harry’s forearms that encase your waist just in case he decides to drop you. "I’ll do anything, just not the water... please.” "Anything I want?" "Yes! Anything you want. Just please, put me down." At that, Harry eases you back down over safe and dry land. Even helping you swab your pants clean on the places the sand had stuck from the little tussle you'd put up as he carried you. “So..." You cut the silence whilst he's still wiping over your calf. It’s not a question yet, but your phrasing is already speculative in a way. "Have you decided whats for me to do yet?” “Hmm…” He takes a moment to ponder, “There's something..." He grants as he resumes his walking by the sea. You follow beside him, just as nervous as you are curious to find out what the words coming out of his mouth next are going to be. "I just don’t know if it counts.” “Well, it was me who said anything, so…” Your shoulders jerk winsomely. “Shoot your shot.” You watch Harry’s lips part, figuring he’s about to request something, but his mouth remains quiet, apart from the tongue that pokes out some to spruce his lips, that had gone a bit dry from the cold. Before you know it he's reaching out for your hand and bringing you to an halt. "What was that for?" You ask, but no further words follow your question. It's just Harry's index that comes to cradle your face, dragging a slow shape over your cheek as he stares deep into your eyes, then your lips, then your eyes again. Oh. The tips of your noses press together instinctively, halting for a moment

before Harry finally dares to pump the question. “I want for you to kiss me, is that alright?” “Yes." You say a bit weakly. "yes, I want to kiss you.” Untamed locks of hair feel feathery against your skin when the sea breeze envelops your bodies for the millionth time that day, only this time when you breath in, Harry’s scent overpowers the unmistakable saltwater one. It’s evocative and musky, yet subtly sweet like vanilla… and your mouth is hoggish for a taste. “Then you better start being nice to me.” Harry larks, pressing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose before he takes off running, leaving you standing perplexed facing the sea. He laughs when he looks back at you, noticing the slight outraged pout on your lips. “Come on, don’t give me that face." He takes his hand to his chest dramatically. "It’s breaking my heart.” “You’re evil.” You establish, advancing afoot alongside the coast and walking past Harry without sparing him any more of your attention. You’re not really upset since you know he’s just teasing as revenge, but being deprived of something you want after it being just a breath away always sucks… And the feeling’s even worse when it’s Harry’s kisses, apparently. “And you’re not?” He jogs until he is walking by your side again. “I've taken you out, offered you lunch, brought you to the beach... and yet, all you've done for me since we've gotten here is throw things and kick sand at my feet.” He contends, “You also didn’t kiss me earlier when I asked, so it’s only fair you don’t get to do it now.” "You kidnapped me." Your mouth opens vexedly. "And for the record, I didn't even want to kiss you that much... was only going to do it because you asked." You mumble something of sorts, although in reality you're an absolute sucker for Harry's kisses. To the point of getting annoyed at yourself for not being able to control the itch you get anytime you stare at his mouth. And you've been staring a lot today… Anytime you do, the memories of gone by encounters flood your brain and leave your body sizzling with yearn to feel the dampish warmth of his tongue again. You want Harry's attention. Want him to kiss you, hold your hand or show any type of affection that will make the angsty heart jitters go away. That is also why you've been nagging him with seashells and silly provocations throughout the whole day... You just want him to do something! anything! Before you can get any more desperate though, you're saved by the bell. Well, not an actual bell but Harry’s phone starts ringing in his pocket. He stares at the screen for a while, as if debating if he should take the call or not, but ultimately ends up swiping towards green and taking the device to his ear. You make yourself fall behind purposefully as he does, not wanting to seem like a busybody nor to accidentally listen to something he might rather you didn't. He’s walking in circles, punting at the sand as he talks with his eyes set on the horizon. Sometimes he'll take a peek at you as well, which for some reason is giving you a bad feeling... Not bad as if something terrible has happened, but judging by his body lenguage, he seems a bit more downcast than he did minutes ago before he took the call. And as much as you don't want to pry, you can't stop yourself from asking if something's wrong when he comes to meet you again, with both his hands hiding in his pockets and his face a bit scrunched because the wind is blowing directly in it. “No, it’s just…” He wipes the tip of his nose. “My mom’s printer broke.” He says, taking a big throaty breath before speaking again. “And now she needs me to come over and see if I can fix it...” “Oh.” Caught off guard, that’s all you muster to say. You're hoping your face doesn’t let on the fact that you're feeling fairly saddened at the news that your walk had come to a precipitant end. But luckily, Harry cuts your worries short.

“You could come with me if you wanted to.” He suggests without apprehension. “I live close by anyway, so it would only be a tick.” Your brows dip with confusion. “How close is close by?” “Roughly a 30 minute drive, I think.” His right hand shoots up, combing through his knotty hair once before being shoved back inside the sweater. “I have a heavy foot so let’s make that 25.” “Wait,” You shake your head some with bewilderment. “So you live… here?” “Hum... not here-here, but in the surrounding area, yeah.” “I don’t get it.” It’s true, you really don’t. “Why don’t you just go home every day then?” “I tried that last year, actually… but honestly, it was shit.” Harry sighs idly at the memory. “Any time I went out with my friends or to a party I ended up having to crash on some poor student’s couch because I was too fucked or too tired to drive." He pauses, taking a big breath in. "So, I figured this year it would be better to get myself a room here. That way I can go home when I want to… and even if I don’t go, I still have my own bed to sleep on. And I’m sure my parents don’t mind not listening to me practice for hours every day, the neighbors too.” You're listening attentively; eating up every word he’s saying since he doesn’t usually tend to share much of his trials and tribulations with you. “Either way,” He simpers charmingly. “Do you want me to drive you back or are you going to come along?”

From the moment you'd accepted Harry's invitation to accompany him on his little familiar duty, you'd been feeling a mellow squeeze in your belly.

It was a curious and eager squeeze... like the one you get when your crush sends you a unexpected text or your favorite celebrity shows up on the tv show your parents are watching. Okay... perhaps there was also some, not so pleasant, nervous gut squeezing into the mixture... that prompted you to spent the whole car trip chewing on your fingers and staring out the window wondering if you'd gotten there yet.

But overall, you were excited!

To finally get to know such a big part of Harry's world: The place he calls home, where he's grown to became the person he is today. The first one he always comes to when he has got good news to tell... or for comfort when things go really wrong... like that time he fell in the back street's playground when he was 9 and almost scraped his chin off on the floor's tar.

And to think you'll even get to meet the person who got to wipe and cleanse that wound until it healed to become the scar on his face, hidden under his stubble, that you love to kiss over...

All your excitement only grows twice as big, once you finally witness Harry unlock the front door of his family's apartment unit, where you were immediately greeted by the incoming, destinctable sound of echoey scratches against slippery oaky floorings.

“There he comes…” Harry announced with little enthusiasm, right as a small structure dog comes sliding down the hallway with dark thrilled rounded eyes, flappy ears and silky waves of white and brown fur that you can’t wait to play with, since its expression is nothing short of melting sweet.

Until he spots you standing next to Harry, that is.

Then it’s teeth out, followed by a slam-bang of menacing barks and growls.

“Enough of that, little pest.” Harry shakes the jumpy dog away from the door with a soft pat of his feet. “Don’t be scared…” He avows once you grab onto his upper arm and push yourself a little behind. “That’s Pepper. He's harmless... just has a thing for growling at visitors until we close the door.”

Without further ado, Harry steps inside. Compelling you to follow suit although still skeptically shielding behind him. As promised, as soon as the door is pushed shut, the dog’s protesting appeases and instead of barking, he’s springing around with his tail wagging. Panting with excitement as he takes turns between leaping and scratching at its owner’s legs and ferociously sniffing your sneakers.

“See, he’s just silly.” Harry comments, bending down over his knees and coddling the pet’s whole body like he’s being demanded to do by the eager little creature, that is more than happy jumping over Harry’s thighs and smooching up his whole face with dribbly dog kisses. Where do you sign up to get your dog rights?

“What breed is he? He’s gorgeous.” You try petting over Pepper’s back experimentally while he is still relishing on Harry’s embrace. He doesn’t seem to mind the extra attention, so you end up crouching down as well.

You're stroking the fur with a little more grit now, overflowed with joy when the dog decides you're worthy of getting slobber on her chin as well. “He’s a mutt.” Harry says. “Back at the shelter where we got him, they said his mom was one of them Spaniel breeds… ‘s why he looks like that. Not that it would’ve mattered what he looked like, he’s the cutest pup in the world.”

You don’t know how or why you muster up the courage, but you find yourself smirking and mumbling something along the lines of “The cutest pup for the cutest owner, seems fitting.” You force your eyes to stay trailed on the Pepper’s soft fur afterwards, since you can feel Harry’s attention turning to you.

You sense he’s a little baffled, as if not sure he’s heard you well, but before he can say something back, his attention is pulled to the apartment’s corridor, where there are now approaching human steps and an urgent call of his name. “Harry, darling… I’m so glad you’re here. That stupid shit printer- Oh!” The person covers her mouth with surprise. “You brought a friend!” “Hi mom.” He greets jovially before he moves to introduce the two strangers in the room. “This is Y/N… Y/N, this is mom.”

Harry’s mom was beautiful.

Too beautiful for a mom, even... whatever that means.

She had a great smile, radiant skin and a pair of astonishingly blue eyes you're finding hard not to glare at.

She’s definitely a cool mom too. At least judging by her red suede jacket, her choice of earrings for the day and the sparkly nail polish she has on.

“Hello darling. How are you?” She comes to greet you with a kiss in each cheek. Her skin is little crimson and damp around the face and neck with what you assume to be nervous sweat, and her hair’s a bit blowsy, like she’s already ran her hands through it too many times. She smells beautiful though, like classic perfume and anti-aging moisturizing cream… like most mom’s do. “I’m sorry if I seem a little startled… I’m in a bit of a rush but can I offer you anything? A coffee? Some tea?”

“Oh no, I’m okay. Thank you.” You dismiss politely, not wanting to be a bother.

“Are you sure?” The woman frets. “I’ve made fresh iced tea last night. The recipe’s one from the internet that I haven’t tried yet, so I don’t know if it’s tasty… Maybe it is best I ask Harry to try it first. Harry…” She tilts her body to look at her son.

You guess she’s about to ask him to go fix himself a cuppa, so you claim that you’re fine once more, and that it’s really not necessary but you have a feeling she’s still not dropping the subject. “Mom… didn’t you just say you were in a rush?” Harry hurries her back to the topic of your visit before she gets any more distracted with being a good host. “I’ll accommodate Y/N afterwards, let’s just get the printer fixed first...”

“Right.” Anne nodded, hurrying on her way out the entrance hall. Harry followed her, inviting you to come along with a gentle touch of his hand. “It ran out of paper as usual. I tried to fill it, but it got stuck and I was too scared to pull on the sheets… so I started clicking buttons, hoping there was one that would make it… expel.” The woman explained, emphasizing that last word by pushing her hands out and extending her fingers repeatedly.

You smiled a bit at the gesture, recognizing that Harry’s proneness to talk with his hands a lot probably came from his mom. “I managed to get the papers sorted out, but now I can’t get it to print. I think I broke it, Harry… I think I broke it for good.”

Harry’s lips form a sneery smile at his mom’s disclosure before he speaks. “Mom, as I’ve told you hundreds and hundreds of times before...” He sighs with facetious exasperation, placing both his hands on his mom’s shoulders and giving them a reassuring shake. “You don’t just break electronics by pressing buttons! You’ve probably misconfigured it or something.”

“Does that mean you can fix it?”

“It means I can try.”

Harry ends up fixing the printer rather quickly.

Because it turned out that the issue was one he had already fixed a couple of times before.

You'd heard him explain it to his mom briefly... that there was some sort of communication glitch between the printer and the computer, after the paper jam occured, or something about a pre-programmed response from the computer to protect printer...

You weren't listening that well...

But either way, all he had to do to fix it was restart the printer and the computer; -- whilst his mom looked at him in awe, before she was peppering him with kisses and praises like she truly believed her son to be the next Steve Jobs on the rise.

He also made sure to double-check the tray.

Which was a smart move because it turns out his mom had over-filled it. What would ultimately result in another paper-jam, had he not sectioned and squared off the stack of sheets properly before putting them back.

He'd only knitted his brows and glared a at his mom a little over the acident. "Really, mom?" He'd baited jokingly.

"What?" She'd replied abashedly. "You know I don't do well with technology." Harry had only shaken his head before he took it upon himself to print the document for her. You figured he'd decided to save her the embarassement and spare the witty comebacks for later, when you weren't there to hear them.

Which was sweet of him, you thought.

But not nearly as sweet as when he'd covertly squeezed your hand under the home office's desk after he was done and asked if you wanted for him to go fix you anything.

You'd obviously dismissed him just like you did to his mom earlier, but Harry ended up dragging you into the kitchen anyway. Claiming that, since Anne worked as a Food Lawyer, it was best for you to leave her to sort out her papers by herself because there might be some super confidential information in them regarding some Golden Hills well-known restaurants. And if you happened to lay your eyes upon it, you would leave them no other choice but to polish you off the face of the earth.

The kitchen was enviably cute.

Long and narrow, decorated with glass mosaic in a selection of beachy and green tones that fit in with the slate blue cabinets just right. The countertops were built in a rosy shade of wood, and so were the table and the kitchen chairs, although the seats are covered with mossy green cushions. It brought out the green in the tiles and the kitchen rug, along with the natural freshness of the aromatic herbs displayed in cute little vases throughout the windowsill.

“I like your kitchen garden.” You had told Harry when you spotted it, even though you knew he was probably not the house resident you should be complimenting for it. It still didn’t stop him from flaunting about the only thing he could take credit for, labelling the vases with the plant names because he could never tell parsley from coriander and it kept getting in the way of his cooking. They get into a bit of banter after that. With you claiming not to believe a simple herb mix up could be to blame for his culinary travesties. Harry defended himself with the promise that he’d cook you his specialty, creamy cherry tomato pasta, sometime soon. “It will blow your mind, babe.” He bid. “You’ll be having wet dreams about it for ages.”

You rolled your eyes and claimed you'd rather pass on the chance of getting food poisoned but in reality, you're planning on nagging him about that pasta until he makes it happen, that’s for sure.

You're rather enjoying Harry's home.

It's comfortable and warm, with sophisticated little touches. Like the leather puff seats in living room you desperately want to lob your ass on, the vintage bulb chandelier hung in the dining room that Harry insists he hates because he keeps smashing his head against it anytime he vaccums the carpet, the hallway ceiling with sensor lights... and the spiced orange smell that lingers through the whole house, coming from the entrance hall, where Anne currently is fishing her car keys out of her shoulder bag.

“Don’t you dare feed that overweight creature while I'm out.” She yells back ar her son, and for a moment your panicky mind wonders if she could be referring to you. It makes you feel self-conscious about your rumbly stomach, because you were actually quite hungry and looking forward to being offered a snack… but maybe you’ll have to wait and starve until you get home. “Hey!” Harry’s face turns into a soft pout. “She’s not overweight… just a little chunky.” You look down at yourself. You're guessing you might have put on a bit of weight ever since moving away from home, but it’s still a bit mean to call you chunky, you think.

Harry peeks his head out of the kitchen, noticing his mom’s still standing by the front door. “Can I give her lettuce?” His face is mischievous as he turns to you for a moment. “That’s healthy right? Just a healthy little snack.”

You're about to ask if you're allowed olive oil with it, when you hear a squeaky noise coming from behind you. You turn, noticing there’s a 3 piece aquarium over the counter. Partly hidden by the microwave, hence the reason you're only noticing it now. Inside of it, lounging under a plastic palm tree was probably the biggest pet turtle you'd ever seen. Big like you would need to use both your hands to hold her... and proper chubby too as well.

“You’re going to spoil her rotten.” Harry’s mom concludes with a sigh, before she’s saying her folksy farewells. She tells you that you're welcome to visit anytime you feel like it, and also that you should feel free to slap Harry’s hand if you see him reach for the sun-dried shrimp treats for Matilda, the turtle.

Harry grumbles that he wasn’t going to, but you have a feeling that’s exactly what he would’ve done if it wasn’t for his mom’s tip-off.

Once the front door clinks shut you’re already standing by the tank, while Harry has moved to the fridge. You’re zestfully staring at the sizable pet, that had just become uneasy from the moment she spotted movement close to her blue plastic tank, as Harry looked through the vegetable’s drawer until he found what he was looking for. You silently appreciated how he was careful to rinse the lettuce before feeding it to his pet.

You carried on talking and feeding Matilda lettuce anytime she came swimming towards you with her sharp little claws, splashing water and scratching the walls like she was trying to climb out.

Sometimes you would tear apart small pieces and drop them in the water for her to fetch, other times you’d shove your hand inside so that she would come nibble directly on the crunchy parts of the leaf. As it couldn’t not be, the feeding session ended up turning into a bit of a friendly combat, with you and Harry chafing each other’s hand away to get Matilda’s attention back on your side, whenever she started munching on the others’ lettuce.

Something that quickly escalated to playful side shoves and poking at each other’s ribs until you were nothing but a mess of giggles.

At one point your gaze flickers to Harry’s face, who’s profile looks impossibly lovelier in this light, right as casually runs his tongue over his lips. Leaving behind a thin layer of saliva that makes them look puffy… and kissable…

And fetching to the point that you only realize you've been staring for way too long when he asks you something.

Your eyes dart away sheepishly as you fix your hair behind your ear. “What was that?” You ask without looking, which is something you only tend to do when you’re feeling particularly shy or embarrassed. Once you finally do look, there is a pleased look on the boy’s face that’s making you wonder if he’s caught onto that already. “I was asking if you want to try mom’s iced tea...”

“Oh no, I’m okay. Don’t bother.” With most of his frame already hidden behind the fridge door, Harry squints his eyes at you, askance of the overly-polite response you’d given him. “I’ll have some if you do.” You reformulated, realizing he was waiting for you to cut the crap and give him a sincere answer.

You watched as his gaze honed back inside of the fridge, making a quick scan through the shelves. “What should we have with it? What are you in the mood to eat?” He queried, picking up the glass pitcher from the fridge’s bottle holder and placing it over the counter.

“Just whatever you feel like having.” You answered coyly, feeling your shoulders shrink slightly inward with senseless timidity.

Harry snorted at your shyness, shaking his head as he reached for two matching tall glasses from the top cabinet and placed them next to the pitcher. “Do you like mug cakes? I haven’t had one in a while and I’m sort of craving something warm and sweet.”

“Yes, I would love a mug cake right now.” You simpered with maybe a little too much excitement. “I mean… if that’s okay with you.”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay if I’m the one suggesting it?” Harry mocked your choice of words, before he moved to set the table. You tried offering your help, but he declined it in favor of inviting you to sit down, once he noticed you were still leaning against the kitchen’s windowsill, right by Matilda’s tank.

You comply without fuss, guessing you would probably end up being more of a nuisance anyway for not knowing where anything is.

Despite knowing your chances of being in this kitchen again are slim, you’re making mental notes on the places of things. You like being here, you decides. And not just because the apartment is cozy and homey, Harry’s mom is nice, and you happen to really like the citrus smell of their fragrance sticks...

No. It’s because you like to be in this, more personal, space of Harry’s life.

It’s a place you would never imagine you’d be, being honest. After all, not many weeks ago, you really did believe Harry was nothing short of your nemesis, that had been put into your life solely for character-building purposes… And now you're sitting in his kitchen, watching him pick up a pair of cute, illustrated mugs from the dish rack just so you can make microwave cakes together. Life’s bloody wicked isn’t it?

“What do you want in yours?” Harry asks, pulling your wondering mind back to the present. “I like mine with peanut butter and chocolate chip, but you’ve got plenty other options. There’s vanilla… chocolate… cinnamon… apples… bananas… oranges…”

“Peanut butter and chocolate chips sounds great, actually.”

You could kiss him right now he looks bloody cute; peeking back at you with that sheepish naughty smile of someone who has got a sweet tooth and is hoping you are on the same wavelength as them to ask “Whipped cream and sprinkles on top?”

You're fucked for him.

Absolutely, utterly fucked.

There are two types of university students.

There are the ones like Ameena.

Who pack boxes and boxes of familiar goods from their homes to decorate their school rooms, transforming them in a mini, self-contained apartments because they find comfort in having stenciled stars on their walls, the teddy bear they’ve had around since they were a child perched on their bed, and that crumbling desk lamp they always depend on to get their homework in day.

And then there’s ones like you and Harry.

Who keep around just the necessary and treat their school rooms as a mere sleeping space, frame working their safe haven on the things they can carry with them everywhere… Like their favorite pair of socks, a holey band t-shirt they only got because it called their name at a vintage store or a pack of sugar free gum of their favorite flavor…

It still doesn’t mean you don't need your home room to be a cool and comfy place, with feel-good comforters you can spread your whole body over, pictures of your closest friends, cheap fairy lights, home printed artworks and magazine collages...

That to say that maybe that's the reason why you're not surprised to find Harry’s home room to be way cushier and more intimate than the frat house one...

And a perfect reflection of his personality as well.

With simple dark colors and features, a tall shelving unit around the headboard, that’s filled with ghosts of his childhood and earlier teen days. Lego constructions, a 7th grade zoo fieldtrip picture, school championship medals, an empty liquor bottle collection that you can’t help making fun of by saying “Wow, aren’t you just the coolest guy ever...”

“Oi, shut up.” He’d grumbled, sheepishly scraping at the edge of one the sneakers brand stickers stuck to the top of his desk while you walked around observing the soft rock band posters glue taped to the single room’s dark blue feature wall.

There's a couple of other items that peek your interest: A skateboard Harry admits he’s never learned how to ride, a red electric guitar and its amplifier, a box set of the lord of the rings books, a not so recent stereo system and many, many records.

“How do have so many records?” You ask amusedly. “They’re really cool. I never see these bands in stores anymore... and if I do it's always their best of collections.”

“That Eagles one you’re holding I bought, actually. But most of those were stolen from my dad.” Harry replies proudly from where he is sitting on his bed, scratching absentmindedly at his thighs as he watches you flip through his stack of CDs. “Some are a bit scratched, but I still listen to them anyway.”

You hum insightfully. “And what are these blank ones?” You inquire, picking up one of the few with a clear case and shimmering it at him. “Did you steal dad’s porn films as well?”

“God, no!” Harry chuckles aloud at your jesting. “Those,” He coughs out a laugh. “are compilations I make of songs I like. The track list’s on the back if you’re interested.” He bends his body forward and cracks his knuckles, flexing and unflexing them as he watches you nimbly spin the record case around to check. “Feel free to put any of them on if you’d like...”

"This one seems nice." You decide following a brief analysis of a couple of compilation track lists. “I never would have taken you as a Bruce Springsteen fan, but…” You are already removing the CD from the case and setting it on the stereo player. Essentially taking stabs in the dark trying to figure out how to make the amp work without asking for Harry's help.

“Oh god, not that one!” He moans, burying his hands in his face and curling up forward like you’ve just told him you’re about to make him listen to Baby Shark on loop for 3 hours.

“What? These are nice songs.” You frown offendedly as you plop down on the bed beside him. “Have you grown sick of them, is that it?” You ask as the melody of a Lou Reed song starts playing lowly from the old shelf speakers.

"No, it’s not that…” The boy shakes his head with a nervous smile and crosses his legs over the bedding. “It's just…” He shifts a little, pressing the side of his body closer to yours. “Out of all those damn records, you’ve picked my silly love songs playlist.” Harry sighs some before looking down at his own lap. He’s biting at his underlip, like there’s something playing at the tip of his tongue that he wants to say but isn’t sure if it’s wise to. “…It's the songs that make me think of you.” His shoulders slump like he’s relieved, and completely unaware of the way adrenaline is now buzzing through your veins. “Harry…” The girl gasps from shock. “You can’t just say things like that."

"Why?" He plain and simply asks.

"Because you… this… it’s a bit…” You sough weakly. “You're making it worse. You saying those things is going to make all the other things... worse.”

Harry seems hesitant in speaking for a moment, but he takes a big breath through his nose and forces himself to untie the knot that has formed in his throat. “What kinds of things?”

Your eyes fly up to meet his briefly before returning to your cuticle, that you have been harshly pushing back as you contemplate your alternatives.

You are plenty certain your body is physically shaking like a pressure cooker about to burst. With dangerous heatwaves crawling up your blood vessels, threatening to blaze your confused brain into a pile of ashes and making your mind feel dreamlike, like walking a fine line between reality and all your envisionments of what this conversation could have gone like.

It's not as humiliating or perfect as you imagined it would be, but it's freeing in a way, if you look past the tightness in your stomach and the fact that you have absolutely no idea of ​​where you're getting with your words when you put forth something like,

"I like you, Harry." You say it as an apology, like your feelings are something worth feeling guilty about. "I like you for more than just the things we do sometimes."

There’s a pause.

A long pause where Harry’s face remains nestled in the crook of his elbow that’s perched over his knee. He looks placid, but mindful. You don’t know what to make of it, so you just sit there feeling your chest inflate further and further with tremulousness. And when Harry talks again his voice comes out scratchy.

“I like you too, Y/N.” You tilt your head slightly away from him, in a silly attempt to hide your face for when that inevitable “but” follows his stance. You wonder which one it’s going to be… but this is just sex, but only as a friend or the good ol’ classic but I’m not looking for a relationship right now, only it never comes. Instead, he smiles at you. “I figured it was obvious…”

“Really? You- you like me?”

“Uh, yeah? 'course I like you.” The smile on his face stretches wider, despite the way his eyebrows furrow tauntingly at the questioning. “What? you thought I showed everyone my fat turtle and my lego collection? This is priceless shit.”

You're staring at him not knowing what to say, with a heart that’s beating heavy and full in the best way. Like it’s about to burst inside your chest into a million little fireflies.

With the way his expectant eyes are lingering on your face, you’re guessing he’s out of words too. Good thing your brain is done with thinking... And sick and tired of wasting time trying to figure out what the right thing to say is.

Recklessly, you lean over, reaching for the collar of Harry’s sweater and tugging him to clash against your mouth.

He hums some at the deed, sliding his arms around your frame and bringing you to his chest as your lips smooth unanimously. Although a bit chapped from the beach air, they stick together easily just like they always do.

Harry’s cradling your waist, while you are still very much twisting harshly at the fabric of his collar beyond your knowledge, until one of his hands flies to nab at his throat. “Christ love,” He coughs a laugh. “I’m not usually one to turn down a bit of intense choking, but I’m about to pass out if you don’t give me a second to breathe.”

“Sorry." You draw back a little shamefaced. "I didn't realize I was unintentionally murdering you.” Despite the full-blooded cheeks, Harry's eyes are lit and sparkling with desire as he holds on to your hip and adjusts himself. "It's alright... guess I always knew you would try to rip me to pieces one day. Now come here, on my lap." He pats his thigh for you to come sit in it, and in a heartbeat, you’re slinging your leg over and plopping your bum in his lap, facing him. He spurts out a perky hum as you tilt your head down, like you’re about to tell him a secret, only instead you comb the pecan colored locks away from the side of his neck and push your mouth against the skin that’s as remarkably warm and soft as you remembered.

Some spots are still branded plum from a couple of days ago, so you make sure to be gentle with it… placing little sucks and kisses over the fragrant skin until his lips part in delight. “Would it be okay if I took your shirt off?” You ask a bit reluctantly. With a soft nod, Harry’s hands dive under the hem of his sweater, smiling boyishly as he pulls it up and over his head along with the t-shirt, he was also wearing underneath.

He throws the conjunct of shirts to the side, carelessly.

“Can I get yours as well?” His request comes soon, preventing you from taking in his body and the tattoos adorning it like you wanted to. Your chest stretches wide as you work on pulling your own tops off. Harry helps you, dragging them upwards by sliding his hands alongside your frame.

Without thinking, your fingers jump back to unclip your bra, quickly sliding it off your shoulders and tossing it to the floor. Your eyebrows furrow questioningly once you notice Harry’s eyes are wide with surprise. “What? did you want me to leave it on or something?” But then it hits you. It’s his first time seeing your chest bare like this.

The other times you’d been together the sex had always been rushed and needy, so much that you’d never seen each other properly naked.

Sure, you’d seen each other’s parts and crammed your hands underneath each other’s shirts to cop a feel…

But it was different this time.

You're doing it because you like Harry.

Because he makes you feel all these sorts of things you thought he could never. He cues you into feeling esteemed, and appreciated, and powerful... while simultaneously making you all tender and needy with his kisses and silly love songs. And you treasure him. So much that you wish your body was made of plasticine, just so it would bend and mold and stretch into a giant shield to protect him from anything that could ever hurt. Because that's how his arms always make you feel. Safe and cherished like you're inside of a formless cocoon that smells nice, feels nice, and looks at you with pretty green eyes.

But as much as you were enjoying watching Harry’s cheeks flush as he drank your naked body in, it was making you feel slightly insecure about... well, everything? It prompts you to, not so covertly, wrap your hands around your breasts.

“Why are you covering yourself?” Harry asks, adoringly reaching for your hands to tweak them away. He kept your fingers locked, as he took you in. Sighing happily with an awestruck smile as his gaze flickered between your breasts, seemingly completely blown away by what was being presented to him.

“Because you’re staring.” You slump your shoulders slightly. “And I don’t want you seeing my flaws…”

Harry’s face pinches. “What flaws? There are no flaws…”

“Yes there are!” You fret, pulling your hands from his hold to try wrapping them around your body, but Harry grabs your wrists before you can. “And on top of that, I woke up bloated today… and it’s only gotten worse throughout the day…”

Harry's hands leave yours, coming to cup your face instead as he looks deep into your eyes. It makes you dizzy. “You’re gorgeous." He says it like he means it. “Literally fuckin’ stunning Y/N. Please never hide your body from me. Because I love it.” He chuckled whilst looking down to his lap, where some swelling was already going under his undies although none you had fully stripped yet. “And the thing is… that’s not even a relevant part in everything makes me crazy about you.” You huff, dropping your head over his shoulder. “Such a sweet talker when you’re trying to get your dick wet, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” He blows, pouting a little. “Knock off painting me like dick while I’m having my moment of weakness and getting all sentimental... ‘s real mean.” His hand reaches for your forehead, just so that he can swipe away a loose strand of hair. “And it's not like I don't have a bit of a pouch going on myself, see?” He said, relaxing his abdominal muscles completely. You had a feeling he was forcefully pushing his belly out a bit just to ease your nerves, but you let it slide in order to poke playfully at it with your finger. “Been having too much of that Irish beer I reckon… and chocolate stuffed croissants…”

“No! none of that.” You coo, pushing forward and wrapping your arms around his cushy shoulders. “It’s perfect, you’re perfect...” With your cheek pressed against Harry’s collar, you resume to pressing sticky kisses alongside his neck and cheeks. “And I love chocolate stuffed croissants.”

“Hmm… do you?” He lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment, basking on the the kisses you're giving him, and the feeling of having your bare, fleshy chest nuzzled against his.

“Mhm..." You place a kiss on the tip of his nose, and he gives you one back. "And strawberry jam ones too, but… I know you’re only saying that to make me feel pretty.”

“Because you are pretty." Harry insists. "The prettiest. I love your eyes..." He smears his mouth on yours, pressing soft pecks on your face as he speaks. "And your nose, and your lips, and your neck..." He stops and stares, literally. "And these beauties.”

You're not attempting to cover them this time, instead you let out a layed off sigh and stare down at yourself. “Do you like them?”

“Do I like them?" His eyes dart up at your face for a moment and he smiles, with one of those 'I would eat you whole if I could' smiles. "I was trying not to be lewd but... fuck man, they're perfect."

He takes them in again, and although you're not presumptuous, you're assuming by the way he's raving on the sight, that he wants to touch them. "You can play with them if you'd like." She says it because shes dying for' him to touch them too, but doesn't want to act all brash by randomnly pulling his hands to clasp against her boobs.

You'd assumed he would go for a small squeeze at first... or hell, even a big squeeze with both his hands kneading at the flesh, but he doesn't. Instead he lunges forward, swiping his tongue over your nipples before he's sucking them off and on in his mouth.

He's being proper filthy with it too. With noisy and sloberry sucks until he feels them stiff against his tongue.

"These perfect tits" Harry growls, clearing the dryness in his throat before speaking again. “Just wanna hold ‘em, and squeeze ‘em, and bite 'em...” He does it then. Drags one of your nipples between his teeth and gives it a bite that has you spasming in pleasure and good pain. He suckles the soreness numb then, and blows cold air over it as he draws away. "That wasn't too much, was it?"

You don't answer to his question, instead you push his torso down on the matress, leaning along with it so that you can taste his lips again.

Your mouth starts venturing down his body, smooching his neck, his chest... And you take time to play with his nipples too. Which is something you've always enjoyed doing... yet unfortunantly guys never seemed to care for it, so you usually always ended up giving up in favor of putting your mouth around something you knew would leave them all whiny for you instead...

But something tells you Harry does like it. So you push your mouth on them, swirling your tongue around the flushed bumps and even sinking your teeth into them softly just like he did to you.

And fuck... he moans!

They're low and soft moans but they're there. And they're still there while you're kissing down his tummy, and his hips, and following down his happy trail until your underlip's brushing against the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Can I take these off of you?” You ask as you begin to undo the button and zipper, Harry nods his head affirmatively, so you grab tightly onto the bands and give them a testy tug down.

He releases a breathy grunt at the push. “It’s alright, I got it.” The boy asserts as he takes the matter onto his own hands to make short work of the task.

"Your boxers too." You command, once you notice he was planning to leave them on. Harry’s face inevitably heats when being asked such a blunt request, but he nods and pulls them down anyway.

As he does, his prick plops up into thin air, just as pretty and empowered as you'd last seen him. "God, you're pretty..." You flatter as you start using your hand on him, slipping your fingers around it and slowly pumping the skin up and down.

He looks big, and wide and rosy at the tip, where it's glossy and leaky.

Even his balls look great from this angle, for fuck's sake. Nice and full and immediately your mouth starts watering at the thought of emptying them... but you force yourself to swallow down your arousal as you lower your body on him, until you're nice and settled between his spreaded thighs.

"Have you noticed," Harry's gruffy voice breaks your attention, who was still focused on how lovely looking and responsive his prick was. "how small your hand looks when it's on me?"

"I have, actually." You practically chuckle as you wrap your other hand around him, gliding both throughout his lenght simultaneously. It makes his chest quiver. "Does that turn you on?"

"Mhm, yeah... a bit."

"No need to be shy about it..." You tease, climbing a little closer up the sheets. "Do you also like the way it looks when it's in my mouth?"

"I- uh... yeah." He clears his throat falteringly. "It's what I think about most when I, when I'm sorting myself out, actually." He rakes his hair back sloppily, with his eyes still trailed on what you're doing to him. "You look awful cute while you're doing it too, so... that helps."

You can't take this anymore.

You can't take another second of having this gorgeous boy acting all cute and shy and whimpery while his cock pulsates and spurts into your hands without wrapping your lips around him.

So you lean forward, coat the tip of his dick into your mouth and give it a kind suck. Harry's mouth is hung open as he watches you, pretty moans bubbling in his and your chest as well once you start scouring your tongue and slurping around the whole expand of his skin until he's dripping from arousal.

His hand jumps to your hair, desperate to get some more of your sopping mouth bobbing up and down on him like last time... So you give it to him. Stuff as much of him as you can past your lips and push it down your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as you rejoice on the feeling of fullness he gives you.

And his taste.

He tastes good. Good and familiar...

And it's making you beat yourself up for not having drop your head on him down and dirty on Halloween night after noticing he'd gotten hard just from making out with you over the console.

You're determined to make up for it now though...

By fondling the skin of his thighs and belly as you sink your head farther and harder, and suckling on his sensitive tip as much as you can, even when you need to come up for a breath... making sure he gets to see how bloody greedy you are for the savoriness of his essence... and how willing your tongue is to lick it all up just so no drop goes to waste.

Harry's breathing is heavy, scattered with wet crackles as he looks down at you. "Are you-" He probes, while your mouth is still moving steadily around him. "moaning?" His eyebrows remain furrowed in pleasure as he lifts up over his elbows to check on you. "Is that you making these pretty noises? Are you moaning around my cock?"

A fluttery soud echoes inside the room as you pull him out. "No..."

"Yes you are." Harry chuckles at your shy demeanor. "Does having a cock in your mouth turn you on, baby? Bet you're making a right mess inside your panties, aren't you?"

"I can't help it..." You admit coyly, feeling a little bashful over the question. "It's your fault for tasting nice the way you do."

"Is it?" He tuts his tongue, flashing you a jolly smile before he's putting back a little on the bed and sitting up. "It's only fair I get to take care of it then, innit?"

You put up a bit of a pouty hassle, saying that you weren't quite done with him yet, but it's pointless. He's already making his way around your body and switching your positions, so you figure you might as well let him have his way with you... since he's already snagging the rest of your clothes off.

You've always love Harry's laugh.

But there's something special about it in moments like these, where you're watching him struggle to pull off your sneakers and your tight elastic pants. -- moments when he's naked, and his face looks a bit flustered as sweet and warm sounding cackles erupt from the bottom of his chest.

But then his eyes dart up to yours, greenish and luscious with arousal, as he sets himself in between your legs.

You squirm.

Tensing immediately at the feeling of his lips venturing down towards your pineapple printed, in more than one way, hipster, panties.

“If I remember correctly, I owe you two orgasms from last time, right?” He questions. Your mouth opened with a surprised oh, as you tried squirming a little upwards in order lift up in your elbows, eager on asserting that you weren’t holding him accountable over such a silly promise.

He paid your rumbling no mind, giving both your knees a sharp tug, that put you back into a laid down in position in no time.

“So now I’m thinking we should just get one of them out of the way...” He says, with tempting glossy eyes and the ghost of a smile still pushing the corner of his mouth up due to the squeal that escaped yours at the sudden yank he’d given you.

Or was it more of a moan?

It surely made your whole-body tingle with arousal.

“I didn’t know we were keeping track…”

“We're not. I just want to taste you again.” He said, dipping his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, and you waste no time in lifting your bum to help him on working the fabric down your legs, once they’re out, he tosses them to the floor and wraps his hands around your thighs.

You felt a part of the heat rush back to your cheeks once you heard him moan out a soft Fuck… as he caressed up and down your legs with his eyes locked on your center, before they lifted right up to meet your curious ones. “Swear I could cum just from looking at this pussy...” He spoke, thumbs carefully spreading you open, revealing the spot where you were warmest and dampest for him. “But I’m too greedy not to have a taste, so...”

“Lucky me…” Your words were nothing but a whisper as you let your body fall back over the sheets at the feeling of the boy’s tongue slowly lapping between your lips for the first time that day.

Right of the bat, the feeling’s already too much to handle, making you unintentionally slither up the bed to avoid pushing your legs together. “Are you ever going to learn how stay still or am I going to have to tie you to the bed next time?” Harry menaces jokingly, giving your knees another tug and tightening the grip of his arms around your legs to keep you in place.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to...” You apologize, spreading your thighs open at the feeling of a palm pushing against the inner part of one. “But just to put it out there... I don’t know if you were kidding or not with the whole tying thing but, if that’s something you’re into, I’m down to try it sometime...”

His face sparks up, astonished. “Quite forward, aren’t you?” Your eyes avert away as his eyebrows jump up teasingly. It’s more for show really… because you’re not ashamed of it whatsoever. You know Harry gets off on your wants, and you’re more than happy planting lustful seeds into his brain for later. “I want to try loads of things with you; that being one of them..." He acknowleges. "But let’s focus on what my tongue’s doing for now, yeah?” Without further ado, he dives back to work, licking up into you with broad and slow strokes of his tongue.

You’re still squirming a little, letting out soft whines and feeling your hips jump lightly with each heated swipe he gave against your sensitive bud... but it’s not long until your body begins relaxing into the intensity of pleasure you are being gifted.

One of your hands, that had been gripping tightly at the sheets, comes up to nestle Harry’s silky hair, that he hadn’t bothered to tie, away from his face. "Is it good? Do you like the way it tastes?"

His wild eyes jump up at your question. "Love it." He says amidst a soft slurp, before he pulls away to answer. "Always gets me hard thinking about it too... having you all soaked and spread for me to clean with my tongue." You fell captivated by the way the dim afternoon light embraced his features, accentuating the sharp lines of his face; his eyebrows, his cheekbones, and his jaw... Open wide as his smooth tongue delved inside of you. You could catch onto glimpses of its pinkness with each passionate tilt of his head.

He looked absolutely delighted by the way you tasted. His eyes were pressed shut as he held onto your thighs, running his fingers up and down soothingly over your skin from time to time, akin to the moans he occasionally let loose.

The view was enough to prompt that familiar fizzy feeling to start in the lowest realms of your tummy. “Fuck, Harry… You look so pretty in between my legs...” The words escaped you before you could stop yourself from saying them.

His eyes dart up at you again. “You think I’m pretty?” Deep blueish green and so bright with arousal that you could feel them lighting sparks all over your body.

“You’re so pretty…” You reutter, giving into stroking his ego once more. “and so good…”

“You like good boys?”

“Mhm, you’re such a good boy… with such a filthy mouth…”

"Yeah?" He was giving you a proper show, spitting right over your clit spreading the wetness around the with the tip of his tongue in languid circles. “But you like my filthy mouth, don’t you baby?” He asked, leaning closer and giving the swollen and pulsating bud and a gentle suck that had you curling your toes and pushing yourself upwards in his mouth.

“Fuck… I- yes, yes. I love it…” You whimper; body hot and trembling as he carries on suckling at the throbbing bud.

There was nothing you could do but lay there, moaning and tugging mercilessly at Harry’s hair with shaky fingers as you took whatever he gave you; whether it was quick and precise flicks of his tongue or long, harsh sucks to your clit that had your eyeballs rolling towards the back of your head. “Eyes on me,” He demands at the realization that you had let them fall shut. “I want you to watch just how fucking filthy it can be…”

Watching was overwhelming.

It was the way his mouth was dripping with your essence as he stared back at you with that blatant cocky beam in his eyes of someone who simply knows they are giving it to you good.

Just another reminder of why Harry, and only Harry was the subject behind your wildest fantasies…

And fuck, lord knows you wouldn’t have the guts to deny that he owned you if he dared to ask who that pussy belonged to, even if you wanted to.

The suction was ungraciously sloppy from the wetness that you could not only feel and hear but also smell in the air, so active that you could practically taste it in your own tongue… And Harry was groaning as he lapped at it. Soft groans against your damp flesh that were downright dirty, just like the encouraging words he murmured anytime his tongue managed to steal a good moan from you. “Need you to cum baby. Need you to cum so that I can push my cock nice and deep inside of you... You still want that, right? Want me to fuck that pretty little cunt you until I’m all finished, don’t you?”

“Yes! Fuck, Harry… Yes, yes… that’s all I want…” Your upcoming orgasm had your legs attempting to fall shut, but Harry’s strong hands pushed them back apart, keeping you spread to the point where it almost hurt in the places where your limbs joined, but you’d admit that if one thing, the pain was only turning you on more.

“Oh my god, please keep going. Please, please…” You helplessly cry once Harry pushes his mouth on you harder and begins to ruthlessly tongue-fuck your softest spots. The noises are wet. Pure gushing wet to add to the moaning and groaning and desperate whining from you as your orgasm finally begins to unravel like an explosion of colorful fireworks you swear you can actually see if you press your eyes shut hard enough.

Harry carries on licking you through it, the strokes of his tongue knowingly growing slower and more yielding to avoid causing any uncomfortable sensitiveness. You find yourself lovingly combing his hair back as he does it, until he's looking at you with the cutest, droopiest eyes. You let out an audible satisfied sigh then, so he decides to pull away.

But not before displaying an array of kisses anywhere in between your lower stomach and your inner thighs… which you partly believe is to clean his face, but it doesn't make you appreciate the sweet gesture any less.

A smile never leaves Harry's face as he wiggles his way upwards your body until you are face to face again. You're holding onto his cheeks with both your hands, running your thumbs across his warmed skin. "Thank you, that was... so good." You whisper and he nods appreciatively, pushing his face down just so your lips met again.

The kiss is deep and urgent, allowing for you to the taste your own arousal, that is inevitably spreading from Harry’s tongue to yours. He rocks his hips further to skim against the spot where you’re still hot and fluttery, bringing your mind back to the heavy bulge you could feel brushing against the skin of your hip. “Do you want me to go grab a condom?” You ask a little coyly, words muffling together with the way you’re humming them. "I got some the other day, and brought them just in case..."

“Wait, I think…” Harry climbs a little up in the bed, tongue slightly peeking out as he reaches his arm to open the top bedside drawer. He fumbles his way around the drawer, letting out a little A-ha once his fingers reach one of the loose wrappers cluttered in the back.

He picks it out and pushes the drawer back closed, drawing a fit of giggles from you once he decides to start puckering your face and neck with kisses as he shimmies all the way down into his previous position.

Your heart is hammering anxiously in your chest as you watch him kneel on the bed in between your legs and tear apart the shiny wrapping with his teeth. As you lay still, with his figure hovering over you, that’s when a wave of apprehensiveness comes crashing down on you; making you feel like a bloody virgin all over again as you watch Harry blow a quick breath on the condom before moving to roll it over his member.

“Y/N?” His face glimmers at your fixed staring. “You’re still with me?” He asks with a gentle stroke to your knee. "If you want to stop, we can. We don't have to-"

"No." You cut him off, pushing yourself up into a sit up position and smearing your mouth sloppily on his. Your teeth clash a bit with the slope, but neither of you are bothered by it as you carry on devotedly kissing each-other as if your lives depended on it. Harry’s hands are snug to your lower back to keep you close, luring your closer and closer until you are practically sitting on his lap again.

It was nothing short of erotic, the way your head dipped back under his touch; back arched as he hungrily rubbed and sucked on both your breasts, until your hips were swaying against his lap in a silent plead for him. “Do you want to stay on top?” He questions once you climb impossibly closer, wrapping your arms around his neck for balance.

“Yes, I want to take care of you.” You reach down then, grabbing his length and positioning it at your entrance. Harry helps you some, by holding it in place as you try sinking down on him for the first time.

It did not go in right away.

Nor in the next couple of times you tried it. It wasn’t that surprising really. Harry was big, and this position was definitely not the most ideal for unfurling... But you wanted to be the one taking care of him, not only that but you knew this would make it extra nice and tight for him, and for reasons best known to you, you wanted to make an impression.

“Do you want me to help?” He asks deliberately, noticing your struggle.

“No, I don't want help, -- I can do it myself.” You stated obstinately, tone growing a little sour from exasperation as you carried on trying. You swore could cry angry tears if you granted yourself the chance to, but before you could, Harry was flipping you back down onto the mattress. Leaving you completely boggled, staring back at him with awkwardly bent limbs and a disgracefully pliable and pumping cunt.

“Always a stubborn little thing, aren’t you?” He teases as he crawls steadily on top of you. “We’d be here all day if I’d let you have things your way…” The boy quips knowingly, clamping his hands on your wrists and pining them right over your head. “And I would. I really would…" He brings one of his hands to his mouth, shamelessly spitting over his palm before he grips it down on himself. He groans as he slides his hand up and down his cock, mouthwateringly hard and dripping with precum. "But I have an aching prick baby... and it really, really can’t wait any longer.”

Your body is jumping beneath his, upwards in supplication for him to stop jerking himself and push his cock inside of you instead. You’re being persuasive, but he doesn’t bend to your pleading right away. He seems amused though, with the way his lip tilts up at the corner.

“Will you let me fuck you?” His question is bold and unswerving, but the look in his face that follows it is winsome enough to give you space for reckoning. Not that you needed any, because not a second goes by before you are whimpering a batch of toothsome yeses. “Do you trust me?” He adds, looking right into your eyes.

Your body stills some¸ emotions bubbling in your chest at the realization of just how much you do, and how much you do not want to be in this position with anyone but Harry ever again. It makes you wonder if he is feeling it too. The impassioned aura that was coming down over your body as you feel him aligning himself with the gap between your legs.

Hot and velvety and so bloody hard.

“Yes. Yes, I trust you…”

Harry’s mouth is on yours in a short breath, as his hips gently flex forward. The syrupy kiss you were sharing inevitably cracking into groans as his member dips his way inside the warm and slick tightness of your walls.

He takes his time easing himself into you, slowly drawing halfway out before he’s diving further in again, deeper and deeper with each subdued thrust. Before you know it, he’s staring at you, boyish and gratified smile adorning his features. “All set.” He hums, leaning down for a sweet little peck to the tip of your nose. “How does it feel, princess?”

You cutely scrunch it up at him before returning the gesture. “Feels good, just a bit... big.”

“But you like it, right?" He smirks boastfully in jest. "Being stuffed with me and all that...”

Your brows furrow disapprovingly. “You know what I really would like?" You ask, unnable to mask the giddiness you feel once he hums solemnly. "If you would just shut up and get with it before I cum from the anticipation alone.”

With a soft cackle, Harry’s reaching down and clasping his mouth onto yours with slow and provoking urge. “Don’t rush it." He solicits against your lips, before his tongue finds its way into your mouth and starts circling yours gingerly, like it was sweeter than the sweetest cherry wine. "Let me enjoy you for a little while... I promise I’ll be giving it to you hard and fast before you even know it.”

And shit, you really couldn’t say no to that now, could you?

So you resent on accepting whatever Harry gives you... and gripping at his skin roughly as he fills you up with slow and considerate lunges for a time.

You don’t think you've ever had sex this compelling before. And it’s not about the sex itself...

It’s the unexplainable connection you feel with Harry.

It makes no sense. You know it doesn’t, but everything in your body effortlessly blooms as soon as your bodies touch. Whether it is the mere presence of his hand on the small of your back while roaming around IKEA’s small spaces, or his nails branding your skin with how hard he is squeezing your thighs open.

To make things better, Harry’s eyes remain trained on your face the whole time his tongue and lips aren’t lavishing your mouth. Your fingers are buried in the strands of his hair, tugging harder at the roots with each passing moment of slow and sensual thrusts to your soppy hole.

You firmly believe he likes it though, with the way he tends to pick up the rhythm and growl against the transpiring skin of your neck the more you tighten the grip of your fist. “God, baby... You feel so good. Got such a perfect cunt.” Harry utters lowly, at a particularly pleasurable smack of his hips. “So soft and warm... And mine. It's all mine, isn't it? Just like my cock's all yours too.” He moans, and you can’t help but to join along, still nodding your head yes at the question.

He was all that you could feel. Every wheezy breath of his; every greedy mouth collision; every scratch of your nails up and down his back and ass to pull him closer. “You're warm too… and fuck, your dick… ‘s huge.” You groan, the comment surprisingly making his cheeks glow a little pink. “But you work it so well… make it feel so good.”

He's moving in and out of you with slow and deep rolls of his hips. The tip of his shaft nudging against that spot inside of you repeatedly and making your lips part in delight. “That’s all you baby… being such a good girl, taking me so well…”

It’s filthy. It’s so fucking filthy with Harry pining you over the mattress. Noises of skin slapping wetly mix with the ones the bed makes by rocking against the wall, causing outbursts of arousal to spread through your entire body, leaving it tingly everywhere.

There’s something so utterly romantic about it though.

Harry won’t take his eyes away from your face. They’re as beautifully oceanic and evocative as ever, only now they’re glazed with a warm and watery layer of arousal, one that you pray is reserved for your eyes only.

It's dangerously intimate like this. With the tips of your noses brushing together, hearts beating in a similar rushed pace and lungs partaking the same weighty breaths as both bodies move as one in the pursuit of mutual release.

And yes, the fit was tight... But it came tied to a pleasure so mighty, it left no room for wondering. Harry was going to give you that second ‘o’... and you were going to leave a mess all over his bedsheets, whether the burn came to down to ease or not.

“Please… don’t stop...” Your throat unwittingly buzzes. You hate how desperate you sound but you can’t stop yourself from asking for it. “I think I’m gonna cum again..."

“Yeah? You wanna cum? C’mon then, cum for me…” Harry’s visibly gritting his teeth from pleasure, hips falling against yours quicker and harder, and there’s a protruding vein pumping firmly on the side of his neck. “C’mon Y/N, gimme a good one... fuckin’ ruin me…”

You can tell he’s reaching the end of his rope… and luckily so are you.

“I’m going to, Harry. Fuck, please... cum in me.” You ramble into his mouth. You tried pushing your hips up to meet him halfway, but it was useless with the way Harry’s hands were keeping you steady against the mattress as he sloppily pounded into you, fast and hard like he promised he would. “Cum in me.” You begged. “Show me how much you really like my cunt…”

“Fuck, baby… I love it. I love it so much.” He practically purrs. Or maybe it’s the way your body is jittering in all places under him that’s making it sound like that. Your mind feels like TV static, your heart is hammering inside your ribcage and there is a loud buzzing in your ears.

Harry’s pace is strong… and messy. But fuck, it feels so good!

You can feel the pressure of his cock on the deepest parts of you. You can hear and feel the heavy breaths and pleasure cries he’s bearing in your ear. You can taste his skin and his sweat and his arousal like you were actually bathing in him.

And once he pushes his prick inside of you fully and rolls his hips upwards to push against your sensitive spot, you're a goner.

You crumble apart. Clawing on Harry’s back and pushing your mouth against his collar in attempts to muffle your loud moans as your tight walls clench and pulse around him. “Shit, you're squeezing me so good... there we go… ahh, shit... that’s it… keep coming on my cock…” He grunts against your temple as he carries on swaying his hips rashly against yours.

Inevitably, your ecstatic state pushes Harry to his own orgasm as well. -- Spurting ropes and ropes of sticky ooze inside the condom.

It’s warm.

So warm that you can feel it through the rubber. It makes you mewl softly into his neck as your bodies still rock against eachother, making the most of the last waves of pleasure still flaring through before your limbs start feeling too drowsy to move.

If Heaven is real, you think you've found your personal one.

As Harry lets his body fall atop of yours.

His heart is beating fast, making his chest convulse a little against the sweaty skin of your belly. His hair feels messy and damp once your fingers come down to push his long curls back, just so that you can craddle his face, that he’d let drop in the middle of your chest. Once you do, he looks up at you. “What?” You ask once you witness him breathe out the softest, happiest sigh you’d probably ever seen him make.

“It's... nothing.” He says before dragging himself upwards to steal another kiss from you. "You're pretty and I like to stare at you."

He rolls over to the side then, but his arms still come to wrap around you right away. You furl into Harry's chest easily, tangling your legs together as he adjusts the covers over you. “You kept your socks on.” He comments once he feels their softness scrape against his legs.

You pull him closer against your body, reveling on the way his undressed body fits so snug on yours. "So did you." Chapter XII taglist: @just-vm​ @gracexelizzabeth​ @stylescayoon @happydays​ @littlesoldierelleora @duh-dobrik (i hope i didn’t forget anyone. if i did please lmk, same if you wanna be added ;D)

[asociallyawkwardteen]

FACE - Woosung/Sammy Kim - Drabble

Kim Woosung/Sammy Kim x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Word count: 2,5k

Summary: After a long semester of uni finally comes to an end, y/n and her friends are able to go out again and have fun. A fun night out turns into something very beautiful.

(Also I would like to apologize for any errors, english is not my first langugae so please have mercy on me ^^’)

~Hope you like it!

„Finally!!! We are done with all those stupid exams!!!” your friend Coco shouted once you got back to your apartment from Uni after having your last exam for this semester today.

“Hey, you do know that we have neighbors, right?” you giggled, hitting her in a playful way.

“Yeah, yeah, but aren’t you glad that we finally can relax?? We should celebrate it!”

“Of course I am glad, silly. So how do you want to celebrate surviving another semester?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet but I want to do it tonight! Otherwise it’s not as much of an celebration.”

“Sounds a lot like you want to go drinking, huh?”

She smiled at you sheepishly, “Maybe…”

“Okay so a girls night out it is?”

“Eeeeh…” she started hesitatingly, blushing a little

“what do you mean ‘eeeh’?”

“How about…”

“Wait! You want to ask the cute guy from our history class out, don’t you??” you said wiggling your eyebrows at her

“Heyy!” she punched your arm, “what I was going to say was: we could gather a few of our friends… and maaaaybe also hajoon…” she got quieter during the end mumbling the last word.

You grinned. “Well you can invite some people I guess, still don’t have a lot of friends that aren’t also yours here” you smiled a little embarrassed at yourself hearing that coming out of your mouth after being here for already one and a half year.

“Oh just not too many please… I’d like to still keep the circle small tonight.” you added

“Sure thing she said, sitting down on the couch and already looking through her phone for the right people”

Some time passed and you used it well by taking a nap, seemed like the best idea since you’re probably gonna be out the whole night. However, your peaceful slumber was rudely interrupted by Coco barging in your room exclaiming that she finally had the perfect selection of people.

You mumbled a half awake “Shoot” and nuzzled your head back into your pillow.

“Okay so, since we want a rather small group this time, I made sure that I selected them very carefully!” She listed a few of your friend group to which you just nodded to, still half asleep.

“And-I-also-might-have-asked-Hajoon-if-he-was-free-and-he-is-joining-us!!” She quickly spat out hiding her face in her hands squealing like a little kid.

You grinned at her, “glad you finally had the guts to ask him out!”

“That’s not all thought, I thought that since I would be a little occupied with hajoon tonight I though I would invite someone for you too! BUT- Please don’t hit me now okay!”

You slowly opened your eyes looking at her kinda pissed already. “And who would that someone be?”

“Sammy…” she mumbled

“HUH?!?!” now it was really over with your beauty sleep, you shot up in your bed looking at her in disbelief. “Sammy?, you… mean Sammy Kim?? Your freind from highschool, who I had nothing but awkward interaction with since I met him last year?” 

“Awkward Interactions?” she giggled, “ if that’s what you call love at first sight but no clue how to handle it, yeah sure you guys had some AwKwArD InTeRaCtIoNs. And now don’t act like I didn’t realize how you two were looking at each other that night, plus how often you too hung out to sTuDy.”

“No No No, he really helped me out with my photography project back then, and you promised me that we would never speak of that night again!” Just as you finished your sentence Coco’s phone made a ding. She opened it and grinned once again.

“Oh come on you both have the hots for each other but your are both to scared to admit it and I like the effect you have on each other, you both are like creative chargers for one another. I’ve yet to see you procrastinate when he is around and you have heard his music improving yourself, do you think that comes just out of nowhere? Huh? Whatever he just texted that he is coming tonight so this discussion is over!”

You looked at her with wide eyes and your heart skipping a beat. You definitely have a crush on Sammy and yeah maybe that happened the first time you met him BUT you were just never really the relationship type of girl, plus you didn’t plan on staying in Korea after Uni so you didn’t want to get to attached to something/someone plus you liked things the way they were up until said night. New Years Eve Party to be exact. You and Coco had a party at the Apartment and most of your friends were wasted at 1am already and Sammy and You also had quite a bit to drink, one thing led to another and you only remember waking up next to him in your bed, all cuddled up together with and hunch of what could have happened. Luckily you two were up before everyone else thinking nobody noticed but of course Coco knew the second she looked at you once she woke up. Sammy had to leave quickly that day because of some issues with brother, who wanted to visit him on New Year’s. Ever since than you two tried to keep it casual by not addressing it at all and kind of ignoring each other and your feelings for one another a bit. Until now apparently.

You sighed falling back into your cozy bed once Coco left your room.

~Time skip~

You pushed the thoughts of the night ahead to the side -mostly for Coco since she was worried that you were actually mad at her.

To proof her wrong you put on a smile and you two started to get ready together while blasting music and starting to pre drink a bit. It felt so good though to finally have the time to go out with some friends again after all that studying and stress with exams, just getting ready with your roommate was already so much fun.

Soon your uber came and you were on your way to the club where Coco told the others to meet you. You saw Sammy already when from the car, and your heart stopped a beat. He was just leaning against the wall, headphones in and on his phone. You took a second to admire him before the car came to a spot where you guys could get out. Coco saw him as well form where you two were and tried to scare him since he wasn’t aware of his surroundings, but she failed.

You greeted Sammy with a warm hug, thinking that he would probably feel your fast heartbeat but you always hugged him to say hello and you didn’t want to make things more weird. To your surprise you could feel his heartbeat as well, which weirdly calmed you down a bit.

You too still kept a bit of a distance for now just making things seem “casual”, clearly aware of the tension between the two of you. You got a table at your favorite club and soon drinks started to flow. Your group had an awesome time dancing, drinking, catching up and just enjoying your freedom for now

The DJ was great and constantly playing what you wanted, a couple hours went by and your friend group started to get smaller, one after the other leaving with someone they flirted with for about half an hour. Oh and Coco was all tangled up with Hajoon just as you both expected. You didn’t care about all of that too much just enjoying yourself on the dance floor and chatting a bit with Sammy while still continuously ordering drinks.

Of course some dudes tried to hit on you especially while you were dancing, overflowing with confidence but you just told them to get lost, you were really not interested in any of them. You were really just here to have fun but as you caught a glimpse of the way Sammy was watching your every move you smiled a bit to yourself.

You both were a bit buzzed by now, it being around 1:30am and most of your friends, well actually all of them already gone. The club was still buzzing and you were in no way ready to leave yet, neither was Sammy. It may seem a bit boring to just stand at a table watching a girl dance for hours, only taking breaks to pee or take another shot, not for him tho. Watching your body float over that dancefloor, never missing a single beat, smiling with closed eyes. And every time you were sick of a song you made your way over to him smiling with sparkling eyes in which he could get lost in forever. Every time you would come over you two had a shot or two and every time you went back on the dancefloor you tried to convince him to come with you. He came with once or twice, wanting to stay there with you the whole night just being weightless together but he knew that if he kept dancing with you and already being a bit drunk, he would want more and he wasn’t sure if you were okay with that so he stayed at the table.

At around 3am your feet started to hurt from all the dancing in your heels and you were feeling pretty dizzy, still not wanting to stop dirinking. Sammy knew by the way you came back to him that you were ready to leave and get some food somewhere.

“Sammy…! Wanna grab a bite somewhere?!” you shouted in his ear hoping he would understand with all the loud music and people talking.

To be completely honest he didn’t understand anything over the loud music and his own spinning head but he knew what you wanted so he just nodded and you two left. Once you stepped out of the club you both took a deep breath an looked at each other for a second. In this moment the only thing you wanted to do was kiss him, get lost in his touch and never wake up from it again but instead you just smiled at him and repeatedly said that you were hungry.

Sammy was in the same position, he knew that soon he would not be able to contain himself if you keep looking at him with those intense eyes of yours. He laughed at you being a whiny baby and took your hand to lead you to your guys’ favorite 4am drunk-food place. You both knew that he initially just wanted to yank you a bit in the direction you had to go yet you kept walking hands interlocked up until you got to the food place. It just felt so natural that none of you wanted to let go, so you kept it that way for a few moments longer.

You two kept chatting a bit while enjoying your food. For the few other people in the restaurant you two just looked like a regular couple acting all cute together, feeding each other and giggling while still ordering a few drinks. The owner of the restaurant actually thought you two were so cute that she gave you another soju-bottle for free, “For the lovebirds” she said as she put a the bottle down and winked at you.

You looked at each other with big eyes and you started to giggle since you were still pretty drunk. You took the soju with you and left the restaurant after paying. You were not ready to leave one another yet but you remember that Sammy had that great view from his apartment rooftop so you went there, on the way your hands found each other again and you just walked in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

You set up everything and settled down on the roof with your soju and a blanket just starring into nothing. Soon the two of you were cuddled up listening to each other’s breath.

You sighed “I missed this, you know?”

“Missed what?” he tried playing dumb

“This.. you… us..” you mumbled into his chest trying to hide your blushing

“Me too” he said while running his hands through your hair.

You lifted your head to look at him in the dim light just taking in his features bit by bit. He just smiled at you, slowly closing his eyes, like a cat would do. Carefully you sat up a bit and firmly pressed your lips on his. He smiled into the kiss. It was a very sweet delicate kiss, maybe even innocent, savoring every little moment of a innocent yet so powerful love. You two dragged the kiss as long as your lungs would allow it, after that you quickly nuzzled your head into his warm chest again.

“We should head inside it’s really getting cold and I don’t want you to get sick…” he softly whispered

You nodded and you packed your things to move into the apartment. It was so much warmer and just as cozy as you remembered it. You let out a yawn, stretching your body, Sammy saw his chance and wrapped his arms around you from behind burring his head in your neck. “Tired?” he asked softly.

“yeah… a bit…”

“then let’s go to bed then, shall we?” he asked while already heading towards the bedroom. He gave you his favorite shirt and shorts to sleep in, knowing you would have asked for them sooner or later, also he loved the way they looked on you. You excused yourself to the bathroom to change.

Once you locked the door behind you, you started to freak out silently a bit but on the other hand, everything just felt so right, Your bodies and minds just fit perfectly together and you were kind of mad at yourself for wanting to cut this awesome connection after it got a bit more serious. You washed you face, changed into the clothes he gave you and took a deep breath before heading back to the bedroom.

Sammy was already all cuddled up and his room looked even more comfortable with the delicate fairy-lights you gifted him last Christmas. You crawled next to him getting comfortable. He gave you another soft kiss, but you wanted more. You started to intensify it to which he gave in, you were hungry for him the whole night already so you were more than eager letting your hand slowly travel over his body an to the hem of his boxers but suddenly he grabbed your hand. A bit perplex you broke the kiss and looked at him confused.

“did... did I do something wrong?” you asked quietly “Do you not want to?”

“you didn’t do anything wrong y/n…” he gave you a peck “It’s just, the last time we did it too quickly and lost each other for a few months… And I don’t want to lose you… this... us again... is… is it okay if we just fall asleep in each other’s arms for now?”

You started to tear up a bit at his words, this was the first time he actually told you how he really felt -probably a bit because of the alcohol too but you didn’t mind that- and it made you realize how you felt as well, so you nodded stealing one last kiss before cuddling up with him and slowly drifting of to sleep while listening to his heartbeat.

~To be continued~

[popurikat]

Newtmas essay when?

Finally getting to this, thanks for waiting, I needed to go over a few bookmarks. (Warning, this post contains spoilers from the MAZE RUNNER book and FEVER CODE book, so if you haven’t read either or yet and want the jist of my analysis; just know that in general the fandom interpreting Newt as gay before it was revealed on a twitter post was not just a random headcanon and that Thomas in general is portrayed to have very strong unconditional love for Newt throughout the series; and it shows. To the point that even the director for the movie has stated that Newt and Thomas have a strong bond and portrays that in the movies. I will also preface that I am NOT adding personal opinion anywhere here, these are just backings from quotes and how they are thus meant to be taken/read as. My words are taken as a reader who is currently reading Scorch Trials has yet to fully read Death Cure or Crank Palace.) Anways, without further ado at 3AM today, I’ll try my best to explain how even though Dashner tries his best to make Thomas have other, female love interests; he creates a not so subtle gay subtext for Tommy boy here when in the context of interacting with Newt throughout the lore. Apologies beforehand for any grammar mistakes along the way.

To commence, I am going to start with FEVER CODE, as its supposed to act as the story’s preface to the actual events that play out later. Newt and Thomas upon meeting each other describe their presence as “familiar” and or as a “long lost friend” and they genuinely hit it off from the start to the point that Newt is okay with having Thomas see him cry over the fact that he and his sister are separated since he is doomed to be WCKD’s control analysis as he’s the only one lacking immunity from the flare itself. Once Newt is done being emotionally vulnerable we get our first instance of his personal nickname for Thomas: “That’s the way things are Tommy,’ he said his voice not quite steady. ‘The world outside’s gone to hell. Why should we expect any different here? [...] He said it as if they’d been friends for years” (ch. 14).   An interesting note here is that Thomas doesn’t bother to correct him or stifle the moment by feeling that all this information was too much, he genuinely wanted to hear Newt out and is fine with seeing this side of him; if not slightly taken aback by how natural it is that they can converse about such aspects of their lives. In fact, Newt makes such an impact on Thomas that Thomas ends up that same night dreaming of him: “Throughout his shortened night, he dreamed of Newt and Sonya. Of Newt and Lizzy“(Ch. 14). The thing with Thomas though is that the idea of comfort and connection is very foreign to him as he’s been basically isolated all his life with only the adults like Ava to talk to and the one exception being Teresa as his only kid companion. So Thomas didn’t even think he could make others like him for being himself unless they were vital to the overall production of WCKD. Seeing this portion right before the end of chapter 14: “Alby, Minho, Newt, Teresa. Thomas had friends.” shows that Thomas really had to deep dive to see how he deals with personal connections and why he was excited about the notion of friendship. He could’ve been happy with just Teresa, but only fully cemented her bond to him as “friend” when his circle grew and these kids he got to hang with taught him he can be himself, a concept he didn’t realize was possible when all his life was dictated on what he was supposed to learn or do. It becomes especially clear just how controlled his life is with the aspect of sentiment when later on Teresa’s mental communication evokes physcial pain and fear in Thomas. I’ll get back to that later as its more of a small tid bit of Thomas’ view on his forced love interest, Teresa. And yes, I say forced because multiple sentences with Thomas have him even wish he could cease all communication with her. Moving on, let’s talk about mimicking for a second. As humans, we mimic as a behavioral response to become closer to the person we care about. It’s the reason why yawning or laughter is contagious and or why we copy the posture of the person we converse with face to face. Thomas is seen to do this the most with Newt’s quirks. I’ll give the example in chapter 15: “Newt has been promising them that he was saving something special, and he did that annoying zipped-lipped sign every time [...] the little light in his eyes showed he enjoyed every second of their torture” versus Thomas: “Thomas did Newt’s zipped-lipped gesture, and that got him a sharp poke in the ribs”. So, we know enough that Thomas’ mannerisms are developing as a sign that he wants to be closer to Newt and to continue this sense of playfulness they both enjoy from the other. This is the start of their budding bond and a clear indication that they hold each other at greater fondness than the rest through this unconscious copying. Through this copying, they also pick up on emotional cues the other lets up on. Newt is especially good at noticing small things like when Thomas is anxious or overthinking: “He was just shocked that with all their exploring, the others hadn’t already discovered it on their own. And there were supposed to be TWO mazes. How had Newt and his friends not stumbled upon either one of them? ‘Tommy?’ Thomas realized Newt was staring straight at him, eyebrows raised. ‘Sorry,’ he said embarrassed, ‘wandered off for a second there what did you say?’ Newt shook his head in admonishment. ‘Try to keep up, Tommy Are you ready to see the grat outdoors?” (ch. 15). Also in chapter 23: “Tommy?’ It was Newt, breaking him out of his thoughts. ‘I can see your wheels spinnin’ up there.’ He tapped the side of his head”. This furthers Newts perceptiveness on his friend and Thomas’ ability to pick out when he is being looked after. And they bounce off each other really well in that aspect. To the point that Newt can crack a joke he knows will land right on Thomas’ sense of humor: “Newt waggled his fingers in front of Thomas’ face [...] A laugh exploded out of Thomas’ mouth that sent a spray everywhere. ‘Sorry’ he said, wiping his lips on his sleeve” (ch.15). It’s enjoyable to know that at least at a surface level, they have fun together and can cheer the other up if needed or know when to ground the other to reality. It is also through these instances that as a reader I pick up that Thomas’ nervous ticks perhaps allude to an anxiety disorder he has; of which Newt is aware of and never puts Thomas down on for exhibiting. He in fact understands it and deals with it accordingly as he himself has a similar circumstance. SO, what does all this paying attention lead to? Thomas’ devotion to protect Newt. Yeah, thats right I said devotion. Thomas’ actions are influenced by his developed instinct to protect Newt at all costs. Here is the biggest example that comes to mind: “What in the world happened to Newt? -- Less then two hours later, Thomas had spliced together a series of camera clips [...] Thomas turned off the feed. He couldn’t take it anymore...Newt, Newt, Newt, Thomas thought, feeling as if the very air around him were turning black.”(ch.52). Essentially, Thomas seeing Newt plummet to his near death by falling from the maze wall as a result of Newt’s ongoing depressive state, this is the moment that makes Thomas realize WICKD isn’t as good as they seem and that he is going into the maze to save Newt. Its admirable how much self sacrifice Thomas does for someone he cares so much about, to the point that their name is like a mantra. Thats a sensible area of passion and fighting spirit for someone who is “just a friend”.    Oh and, the feeling of fondness is mutual mind you if I haven’t been clear. After experiencing the horrors of cranks for the first time, realizing Newt was not immune, and watching Newt until they entered the pits it has been months since they last interacted; this is their first reunion: “What’s up Tommy?’ Newt exclaimed, his face filled with genuine happiness at the pleasant surprise that’s been sprung on him. Thomas couldn’t remember exactly how long it’d been since he’d seen Newt. ‘You look bloody fantastic for three in the morning” (ch. 23). I need to preface this that Newt DOES NOT mean that sarcastically and that out of all the people in the room (Minho, Chuck and Teresa are there in this scene), Thomas only reacts this way specifically toward seeing Newt is okay and back.   The characters are also not afraid of being physically close. “Well, look who the bloody copper dragged in,’ Newt said, pulling Thomas into a big hug” (ch.31), “They shook hands, and then the two of them set off...” (ch. 31), and my favorite: “Thomas jumped at the sound, then stumbled. Newt tripped over him, and then they were both laughing, legs and arms tangled in a pile on the ground”(ch.32). I don’t think this far in the novel, Thomas has been AS (emphasis on as) comfortable with touch  with anyone else other than Newt. And thats a big step forward on the aspect of trust in a relationship, being able to be comfortable with the presence of another person enough to be as intimate with them as shown here.  And all this, is just fever code itself. Mind you this is not the MEAT of the novels as it came out later. But even without it, lets look at Thomas in Maze now, I’ll try to keep this segment a lot more brief. Here’s Thomas looking respectively at boys his age: “A tall kid with blond hair and a square jaw...a thick, heavy muscled Asian kid folded his arms as he studied Thomas, his tight shirtsleeves rolled up to show off his biceps [...] Newt was taller than Alby too, but looked to be a year or so younger, His hair was blond and cut long, cascading over his T-shirt. Veins stuck out of his muscled arms”(ch. 2). Thomas’ initial reaction to being surrounded by boys is to deeply analyze their rugged good looks and heavily emphasize their best physical traits. When reading this the first time, my mind immediately thought this boy at the very least is supposed to be portrayed as bi, especially when later down the line Teresa gets a similar descriptor: “...despite her paleness, she was really pretty...silky hair, flawless skin, perfect lips, long legs.” So right off the bat, we know that be it boy or girl, Thomas emphasizes how attractive someone looks in his eyes when he truly does have a sense of attraction to them. Case closed. Within the same chapter we get Thomas also immediately clinging onto Newt for a sense of grounding, it is now ingrained in him at this point that the boy is his lifeline, a person to rely on. “Thomas looked over at Newt, hoping for help.” And help he does, Newt in this chapter helps ease his worries, explain a general idea of what the glade is and even pats him on the shoulder a bit to ease tension. And Thomas doesn’t bat an eye in the same way he’s weary of literally everyone else. In fact, he’s eager to stay put with him as shown with; “If Newt went up there, then I wanna talk to him.” And if none of that seals the deal, we got early bird Newt being so touch starved he flattens himself next to Thomas to wake him up at the crack of Dawn in chapter 6: “Someone shook Thomas awake. His eyes snapped open to see a too-close face staring down at him, everything around them still shadowed by the darkness of early morning...’Shh, Greenie. Don’t wanna be waking up Chuckie, now, do we?’ It was Newt --the guy who seemed second in command; the air reeked of his morning breath. Though Thomas was surprised, any alarm melted away immediately”. This whole scene follows firstly by Thomas once again impressed by how strong Newt is and then Newt giving him a rundown of what everyone else was too afraid to show Thomas, the grievers. And you know, this scene could’ve ended well and everything as totally platonic, but then we have “Newt turned to look at him dead in the eye. The first traces of dawn had crept up on them, and Thomas could see EVERY DETAIL OF NEWT’S FACE, HIS SKIN TIGHT, HIS BROW CREASED.” Now, look me in the eye and tell me there is a hetero explanation on looking at your best bro like they are the sun reincarnated themselves. But let’s not hog all the homosexual undertones with Thomas here. Wanna know what Newt’s initial reaction to having a girl in the glade was? “It’s a girl,’ he said [...] Newt shushed them again. ‘That’s not bloody half of it,’ he said, then pointed down into the box. ‘I think she’s dead” (ch.8). It’s actually a stark contrast to the other gladers eagerly wanting to know her age, how pretty she looked, and calling dibs to date her; Newt isn’t interested in any of that, he’s more perplexed on her status and not even bothering to remark on her looks, he was the only one not to and even remarks a few other instances that girls are more Thomas’ domain. For instance, he makes a joke in fever code when Thomas remarks that the girls in the institution were going to tackle him down, Newt proceeds to point out sarcastically something along the lines of “wait, isn’t that YOUR dream though?” So Newt is pretty out spoken of his disinterest in girls, and his full admiration and attention on Thomas. Oh, and yes, Newt immediately switches over to “Tommy” the moment Thomas mentions he hates being called greenie, and once again it just becomes a thing between only the two of them. Newt is also the one to be straight forward about the whole Runners business. He warns Thomas about the dangers and doesn’t necessarily turn him down on his desire to be one, he in fact encouraged him to just wait until the right moment. “No one said you couldn’t, but give it a rest for now”(ch. 15). So once again, Newt is the voice of confidence and reason for Thomas to prosper. In turn, this time around Thomas is the one to catch when something is bothering Newt. For instance, “Newt chewed his fingernails, something he hadn’t seen the older boy do before...he was genuinely concerned -- Newt was one of the few people in the Glade he actually liked ”(ch.16). Interesting how we went from fever code “friend” to “like”. And also, when Newt explains his concern about the runners not coming back yet, Thomas pieces together how scared Newt is of the Maze without being told and goes to stand next to him as a physical presence to ground Newt as they wait near the entrance. In fact, this piece is trivial to understand why Thomas does what he does next. When everyone else had given up on the Runners still outside with 2 minutes left til closing, and Newt was escorted away from the entrance, Thomas waited. And when Thomas saw them, he yells to Newt, realizes he’s too far to do anything, and makes a decision himself. He KNEW how much Newt cared about his fellow Gladers, they were like family or “kin” as its said in the book, so what does he do? “Don’t do it Tommy! Don’t you bloody do it!’ ... Thomas knew he had no choice. He moved. Forward. He squeezed past the connecting rods at the last second and stepped into the maze”(ch.16). Yes, Thomas does this because of his empathy for the Gladers, but the chain reaction of Newt’s concern is what sets his decision in stone. And yet again, Thomas enters the maze for Newt.  And that’s pretty much the constant for the rest of Maze Runner the book, Newt just sticking up for Thomas and Thomas in turn just being happy that: “He was at least relieved that Newt was there” (ch.17). And thats basically their entire dynamic. Newt just going: “If you really did help design the maze Tommy, it’s not your fault. You‘re a kid -- you can’t help what they forced you to do” to ease the survivor’s trauma Thomas has, as well as saying “I actually believe you. You just don’t have an ounce of lying in those eyes of yours. And I can’t bloody believe I’m about to say this...but I’m going back in there to convince those shanks we should go through the griever hole, just like you said”(ch.51); and I think thats the most romantic thing to hear from him. Just right out being all for supporting Thomas no matter what happens as long as he stays alive and continues to fight, he doesn’t care about what happened before. And Thomas eats that up because it fuels him even more to seek out a means to escape for the people (Newt) that deserve a life outside of running from monsters forever. So essentially, I’ll state again, it’s always been Newt the catalyst for Thomas to run head first into the Maze and seek freedom. And with all this I can clear that these two are shown to if not be romantically involved, at least have unconditional love for the other that transcends the author’s original intention.  And with that in mind, here’s the thing with Teresa as a love interest. I can list here quotes of every time she mind speaks to Thomas and how that affects him, but then this would be too long. And this is a newtmas post gosh darn it. Teresa is gleeful to humiliate, control, hurt, and force Thomas to believe they’re in love. In multiple instances we get her barging into his mind unwarranted making him understand that she has full access to his inner most thoughts. Theres nothing romantic about that, and I think its why Thomas ends up being so perceptive to the smallest of gestures that allow him to think on his own and feel like his own person. Something I’ve seen Brenda do later in scorch, and something I’ve seen Newt do since the very beginning is that they allow Thomas to come to his own conclusions in order to create his own opinions on the matters at hand. Thomas’ love language revolves around words of affirmation. He likes it when people confirm his thoughts are valid and that remind him that WICKD can’t hurt him anymore now that he has the power to be his own person. This is where Newt comes in very handy. He allows Thomas to grow in ways his female love interests have yet to show, sorry Brenda but I’ve heard you were trying to unite all immunes together to the safe haven by the end and in a sense still only using Thomas to get by; I still think she was the better call than teresa of course and I have no remorse for Teresa getting smushed by a boulder. But essentially my point here is that, how do you fail to make your initial love interests clash so badly where one has no real care about the others well being so long as everything goes according to WCKD by using a form of gaslighting and manipulation? AND THOMAS HAS STATED HIS DISCOMFORT ON THIS MULTIPLE TIMES, but the narrative always erases these instances from his mind in place of pity for Teresa’s well being (as you can tell, Teresa through this becomes my least favorite character, I can rant about her some othe time though with proper backing). The narrative in turn treats it all like a joke. I understand there are scenes where Thomas is worried about her and looks out to make sure shes ok, but even then he doesn’t know how to react with mental images of her kissing his cheek or when she screams the next minute that she doesn’t know who he is or how hes speaking into her mind. And thats because they can’t properly communicate their emotions to the other, not even in fever code could Thomas give a forward answer if he loved Teresa or not, she just assumed. Come to think of it, Thomas really doesn’t show much affection to Teresa of his own accord. So then, how DOES Thomas show his affection? Thomas provides acts of service as his love language, if he cares about you enough he will risk his life for you. Why? Because Thomas values putting the people he loves foremost knowing full well they are what help him have purpose and succeed in continuing on. In a way, Newt and Thomas’ dynamic works in this instance because they balance the other out and because they have seen each other at their worst and at their best. In a way, that's why knowing the ending of the books makes it harder to accept that Thomas would just easily take the shot...when all his life clung to Newt’s survival. But that’s a story for another time where I compare the movies (of which let me make that clear, yes I prefer) over the books. For now just know that the book may have done this by accident, maybe not, but at the end of the day theres solid proof that Thomas and Newt care about each other in a way that is separately portrayed from their connection to the other glade members, and have this consistency of soft moments running through the entirety of the series. In conclusion; newtmas. Newtmas. NEWTMAS, etc.

[illyria-12]

AOT Headcanons

I’ve been thinking of posting some of my headcanons and other shit here a bit more. I’m much more active on other platforms, but figured, why not? 

So have something I threw together at... I dunno, maybe 3am Monday morning? :)

Warnings: None that I am aware of.

Includes: Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert, Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, Hanji Zoe, Reiner Braun (At present, maybe more added at a later date.) 

AOT Characters as Study Buddies:

Eren Jaeger:·        

Do not expect this boy to remember that he agreed to study with you. He could have agreed to study with you just a few hours ago, and would forget. He needs regular reminders.         

Remind him a couple of days before, the day before, on the day, during lunch and definitely make sure you text him after school.          

Is always late.         

He starts off really focused. Pulls out his books and notes and is eager to help.     

But he also gets very easily distracted. 

Will often check his phone. It’s a really bad habit he can’t seem to control. Whether it’s just checking the time or clearing notifications, expect his phone to be in his hand at least 60% of the time. Clearing notifications often leads to him scrolling through social media, sending snaps or replying to texts too.   

Will always involve you, telling you why he is laughing, showing the funny video or meme he has found or explaining a conversation he is having.

It’s entertaining, but not exactly the reason you are here...        

He doesn’t have a preference of where he studies, he is pretty content anywhere, but if you go to his place, he will frequently bring in snacks or order pizza. Also is much more easily distracted when at home.         

His attention span isn’t great, and although he loves the idea of being helpful and studying with you, he gets bored quickly.         

Can also get confused with his own notes.       

Will often try and get you to call an end to the study session rather than do it himself. It makes him feel accomplished that way; like he has done his job and you are the one who has had enough.Will often groan things like: 

“Are we done yet?”        

“My head/back/wrist/eyes hurt.”         

 Occasionally he will suggest ‘taking a break’, but once that has been agreed to, it is pretty much the end of studying for the rest of the night.

Likes to try and make studying as fun as possible. Bright colours, highlighting, bubble diagrams, sticky notes. You best believe his version of pop quiz is to write random answers on a sticky note and stick it to your forehead and then get you to ask questions until you get the answer right. 

Will definitely reward you with a kiss when you finally get it right.

Sometimes leaves sticky notes in your book of ‘motivational quotes' to make you smile when you eventually come across them.

Armin Arlert:-       

By far, the most committed study buddy you could have hoped for.

You have weekly study sessions at the library every Friday after school. 

Armin is always there before you, fully prepared; books laid out neatly on the table. Sometimes he even starts his homework while waiting for you. 

Is very much a fan of making a little itinerary of things you are going to work through on the day.         

Doesn’t mind odd conversation but is an expert at getting you back on the subject at hand. He can often even relate whatever you’ve said back to the topic... although sometimes it doesn’t make sense. But it’s still funny and endearing. 

“You know who else thought Mrs Bratton was a bitch? William Shakespeare.”         

Is incredibly patient.         

Is a great supporter, always encouraging you and praising you when you get things right.         

Would never admit it but he finds it cute when you just can’t wrap your head around something and then out of nowhere, the penny drops.

The faces you pull entertain him. Either when realization finally dawns on you or if you’re thinking very hard.       

“Hey, don’t worry, you got this... let’s just go through it again.” “That’s it! See? Told you you’d get there.”          

Will always make sure he brings you something to drink and snack on during session. Usually a sandwich, crisps or some chocolate to give you a bit of a boost.          

Doesn’t push you too hard, if you say you have had enough, he will generally leave it there, or try to convince you to do just a bit more, but never in a demanding sort of way.         

“Okay, shall we finish this page first?”     

“One more section? Promise.”         

Armin's biggest downside? He is so soft on you.         

Very often gives you the answers as opposed to forcing you to figure it out. 

Absolutely can not be stern. If you are feeling playful, or really not in the mood and start teasing him,he is quick to admit defeat rather than stand his ground and force you to get through the work.         

Absolutely will do 99% of the work on group projects but share the credit with you.

Levi Ackerman:·         

Will make it seem like he doesn’t want to study with you, but will ultimately agree. 

“Why don’t you ask ...... instead? Tch. Fine.”

At first he will always read what it is you have to do, and then proceed to tell you what you have to do, but not necessarily tell you how to do it.

Eventually he realizes you already know what you’re supposed to do... (you can read, Levi.) And then proceeds to actually help.          

Expect a lot of sarcasm and insults. He doesn’t necessarily mean them, but he will say them anyway.         

"Whining about it isn’t going to magically speed this up. Get to it.” 

Very rarely strays away from what it is you’re meant to be doing.

Complaining gets you nowhere with him.         

“No, we’re not taking a break, you should have eaten before.”         

It’s not that he doesn’t care, he does, but he also knows you will do anything to get out of studying when you’re frustrated, and tend to over-exaggerate. You’re not ‘starving’, he saw you eat at lunch... which was only a couple of hours ago.          

Likes to prioritize your subjects. Will take into account when assignments are due in, how difficult they are going to be and how long it will take to get done.         

Strict. Very strict.          

Prefers to study in a quiet and familiar place. Libraries or either of your houses where there are minimal distractions. 

Absolutely will not let you copy his notes. You’re welcome to read them, but he expects you to refer to your own. That doesn’t mean you don’t steal snippets here and there though, much to his annoyance.   

“Do you pay attention in any of your classes?”          

Very good at breaking things down and explaining things. You actually pick things up pretty quickly when studying with him, probably due to his ‘no nonsense’ approach.          

Will occasionally randomly test you to see if you’re actually paying attention and remembering what you are doing. He always smiles a little when you can answer his questions.          

Is not going to do the work for you, and certainly isn’t going to give you answers, you have to really work for them.          

Is patient until you start misbehaving.     

His occasional praises are a treat.

Erwin Smith:·         

Loves to study with you in different places. This man will plan a whole day for it.          

Will always bring a picnic when you study in a park. Happy to share a cocktail if you go to a bar, or a milkshake and burger if you go to a diner. 

If you do happen to study in a library, he will always take you for food afterwards. 

His notes are detailed and beautifully written and he has no problem with you using them.         

Don’t expect him to give you the answers though. Erwin is the sort of person who will ask you what you think. 

“How do you think we figure that out?”   

“What do you think we need to do?”       

“What do you think this means?”         

It’s not that he doesn’t know. But he wants you to try and figure things out yourself. As long as he can see you’re making an effort though, he is happy to guide you and let answers slip here and there, or word things in such a way that you suddenly have an epiphany and get the answer.

Is a great motivator and supporter.          

Doesn’t mind taking breaks every so often and uses this time to have general conversation with you. Nothing work related in the breaks, it’s meant to be a break.         

Is not above bribing you. Whether it be with food, physical affection, surprises... 

Yes, Erwin has in fact brought you gifts and refused to give them to you until you do the work and get it right.         

And he would do it again.        

Erwin knows a decent amount about a lot of different subjects and sometimes shares random facts regarding topics you’re studying about. Sometimes they are not at all relevant. But they are usually always interesting.         

You have this man’s undivided attention throughout the study session. Erwin is usually very busy , so when he does dedicate time to help you, he likes to be fully committed.          

Will ignore his phone completely. Texts, phone calls... everything, until you both take a break.

Hanji Zoe:·         

When the two of you get together to study, it is very hit and miss as to whether you actually get the work done. She is so intelligent, but also, such a ditz at times.          

Hanji can talk.         

Like, a lot.          

She very often will start off talking about a topic and swerve off into other lanes and get completely side-tracked.          

You once started off writing a biology paper and somehow ended up getting a history lesson about Ramses II, after learning all the details of the Black Death and even touching on Jack the Ripper.   

 But she is highly intelligent under her scatterbrain-iness.        

But can become very easily distracted. Especially if you start talking to her about something she is very excited or passionate about.          

Will sometimes forget to bring textbooks you need to use.         

Will hyper focus at times. Sometimes a bit too extensively. It can be very draining.        

Can be known for getting lost in the details.          

Never comes to a study session without a coffee for the both of you.

Absolutely has no problem sharing her notes with you, will often steal yours too.        

“A fresh set of eyes and all that.”        

“Ah, this is good! Who knew you were a certified genius?!”        

Has no problem pulling her weight on group projects, but also has no problem letting you take the lead... or do all the work.         

Tends to be much more productive closer to the end date of an assignment. 

Fidgets a lot. Always tapping a pen, nibbling on the end or twirling it between her fingers. Knee bouncing... almost constantly.          

Likes to take regular breaks to analyse and go over what the two of you have learned and accomplished so far and decide where to go from here.

Procrastinates.

Reiner Braun:·         

Reiner is always happy to study with you. Even though his calendar is pretty full, he will always make an effort to squeeze you in.          

Definitely the kinda guy to put a game night on hold, telling his friends online he will be back in a couple of hours to help you first.          

Always greets you with a kind smile and asking if you’re ready for the session.       

Doesn’t mind where you study, but does prefer to study at his house so he can give you a snack or something to drink.   

Really likes it when you go and study in the garden. It is probably his favourite place to study with you. Just because it is nice, quiet and peaceful.          

Very chilled out; will often make jokes and try his best to keep the mood light. 

Very patient; has no problem going over things multiple times and trying lots of different ways to try and help you understand.          

Likes to be close to you when you work together. Knees occasionally touching, shoulders brushing. Just give this man a reason to touch you in anyway shape or firm. A reassuring hand on your shoulder, a quick one armed hug in the chair, ruffling your hair, squeezing your hand... he is all about that shit.          

Will celebrate your victories and praise you constantly.        

“Hey, well done! See I knew you would get it.”         

“We’ve done a lot today, I’m proud of you.”         

Always down for a cuddle or a movie afterwards, or maybe even a walk through the park to get some air and unwind.          

Will digress sometimes but it’s very fleeting and he picks up exactly where he left off again easily.          

Has no problem with you taking some of his notes, or searching the Internet for answers.          

Will explain how he got the answer and break things down into manageable chunks for you.         

Chocolate is always on the table.        

If you get too stressed he will let you take a break.         

Will offer to give you neck, back or even hand massages if you get too stiff. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

[bratkook]

queen of broken hearts. jjk (m) part three.

“Tell me i’m the worst, make you cry and make you hurt, i’m the queen bow down to me, I will leave you out to bleed.”

part one. part two.

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: angst but theres a happy ending yay word count: 7.4k warnings: nothing crazy this time, just mentions of the explicit polaroid photo, an attempt at infidelity, oc is still a liar who doesn’t deserve anything author’s note: ok i couldn’t not write a third part of this to tie it all up and give you guys the happy ending jk deserves so here it is, i hate this oc and love that all of you hate her too lmaooo

Jungkook glances down at his phone, seeing the text he had just sent. A simple string of letters that spelled ‘i’m outside’, a familiar pattern his fingers had memorized. Except for the first time in a very long time the text wasn’t being sent to you.

The device pings with a response from Taehyung, stating he was on his way down, so he locks it once more and sets it underneath his radio in his car. Jungkook grunts as he catches on to the lyrics ringing in his car and skips the song currently playing, it was one of your favorite songs and once he listened to the lyrics he felt like it was a direct jab at him, especially when you had asked him to download it with that same smile that lead to heartbreak. That didn’t stop him doing as you asked, just because you liked it so much.

The amount of times the song I Feel Bad by Blackbear had played in his car as he left your place had nudged it up the algorithm, making his phone constantly play it when he shuffled all of his songs. He needed to fully delete it from his library.

Jungkook had to admit he was doing pretty good, it was going on 6 weeks and you were still blocked from his instagram. He had even gone as far as making his page private to prevent you from lurking, he doubted you’d go to that extent though, not as desperate to see Jungkook’s life play out without you in it. Surely you had moved on to the next shiny toy.

The only thing he had yet to do was block your number, the small no dignity having part of him hoped that maybe you’d reach out, maybe you’d apologize for anything and everything, maybe you’d wake up and realize how you truly felt for him.

That never happened.

Your thread of messages was bone dry, taunting him in his inbox so much he had to delete it all to stop himself from typing out a message at 3am in sheer desperation. He wouldn’t be reaching out and it was clear you wouldn’t be either.

“Hey man.” Taehyung greets him as he pulls the passenger door open, sliding in with ease and slamming it shut behind him. Jungkook blinks back to reality, giving his friend a small smile as they shake their hands in the playful way they always did.

“Jimin’s not with you?” He wonders, expecting the other boy to have come down with him since they all had plans together.

Taehyung shakes his head as he settles into the seat, adjusting his messy hair in the visor and buckling up just as Jungkook pulls out of the parking spot. “Nah, he’s at his apartment. He told you he’s bringing someone with him right?”

Jungkook frowns at that because no, Jimin hadn’t mentioned bringing anyone along with him and he really hoped it wasn’t a girl. The last thing he wanted was to be subjected to seeing them swap spit when they were meant to be having a guys day. It seemed a little stupid for Jungkook to hope for that but he had grown to appreciate spending more time with his friends lately, once again realizing just how much of his time you had consumed, always ditching the plans he had with his friends to go get his dick wet and his heart shredded.

“It’s some guy that just started working with him.” Taehyung fills in, taking the initiative to be in charge of the music because Jungkook’s current mix was sort of depressing. He frowns as he scrolls through the artists, choosing to type someone in to play music that wasn’t in his library.

When the beginning sounds of a hit Bad Bunny song fill the car Jungkook nearly swerves as he whips his head to stare at Taehyung bobbing along, “Since when the fuck do you know spanish?”

“I don’t, you just gotta vibe along.” He proves his statement by proceeding to horribly sing along in broken spanish, but his energy is contagious, spreading to Jungkook until he was eventually dancing along with him. The two of them making up their own moves on the short drive to Jimin’s and Taehyung can’t help but feel successful at making his friend have a good time. It had been a while since Jungkook behaved like his usual self.

Him and Jimin still didn’t know about you but after he had decided to block you he had fallen into a tiny pit of despair, returning to the shell of himself that they had seen during the weeks you had ghosted him. It took a lot of coaxing before they were able to pull him out, not asking any questions about anything no matter how much their curiosity itched.

They knew their best friend was hurting so they tried their best to do whatever they could to make it better, constantly reaching out to drag him out of his one bedroom apartment, making plans he couldn’t say no to, being the best wing men they could whenever they hit up bars. It had worked though, they had managed to fill up the small you shaped void inside of him enough for him to be able to ignore.

He never really thought of you until he was completely alone, usually when the sky was the darkest and he had trouble sleeping, remembering the countless nights you’d text him to come over when you were also restless. On nights like that he’d force himself to take a sleeping aid, not wanting flashbacks of you underneath him to wear down his strength when he had been doing so well.

So far so good.

“Is this Bad Bunny?” Jimin instantly asks when he enters the car, having already been waiting outside of his complex with his friend beside him.

“Yeah!” Taehyung laughs, turning the volume up slightly.

Jimin just shakes his head as he slides over in his seat, giving Jungkook a similar greeting before his friend follows suit. He’s a silver haired guy with sharp eyes, a small smile being sent Jungkook’s way as Jimin introduces him. “Oh, this is Yoongi, he just became Jamba Juice’s newest bitch.”

Taehyung shoots him a sympathetic look, he had worked along side Jimin a few months ago before quitting in a fit of rage so he knew how unpleasant the job was. “My condolences.”

Yoongi just chuckles, nodding in acceptance, not attempting to deny that the job was hell on earth but it paid alright so he’d just suck it up. “Jimin never shuts up about the two of you at work.”

Jungkook laughs at that as he starts to drive once more, wondering just what Jimin said about them while on the clock, they had all been friends for years so he really had an infinite amount of stories to bring up.

Whatever he had said about them must have been good enough because Yoongi fits right in, balancing out Taehyung’s crude sense of humor with his own, being made aware of some of the inside jokes they all had together and continuing them with ease.

Jungkook begins thinking that he wouldn’t mind Yoongi becoming a part of their group, he had a pretty easy going personality and didn’t protest when Taehyung ended up dragging all of them to some random flea market near by.

Unfortunately it all slowly starts to crumble on the drive towards the restaurant Jimin wanted to try.

“Hey Jungkook, do you have a phone charger?” Jimin asks from the back seat, glaring at the dwindling percentage on his phone due to him now being in charge of the music selection because Taehyung was adamant on playing reggaeton and they were all sick of it.

Jungkook hums in confirmation, too busy staring at his own phone screen for the directions to notice that Jimin was already opening up his center console to grab the cord that he knew was always there.

The photo that greets him as he opens it up definitely isn’t always there though, the shiny polaroid of you looking directly into the lens stares right at Jimin and he immediately recognizes you as the girl from the diner.

“Woah, this is dirty Kook.” He laughs out, trying his best to avert his eyes from the salacious photo and pull out the charger he was originally searching for.

“What?” Taehyung asks, peeking over and gasping obnoxiously when he spots the photo too. He’s not as caring as Jimin is, grabbing the photo from the edges and bringing it up close and personal to his face for a better view.

“Who the fuck is this?” He asks as he stares at the picture with a goofy smile on his face. He tilts the polaroid side to side to look through the glare the sun provides but the raunchy act caught on film is clear as day. Jungkook carries a photo of some girl sucking his dick in his car, what a perv.

Jungkook finally looks up and when he sees the polaroid in Taehyung’s hand he feels his heart drop, reaching across and trying to snatch it but he falls short. Taehyung scoots further in his seat, holding the photo higher up and screaming when the car swerves as Jungkook lurches across his seat and tries to reach for it once more.

“It’s just some girl.” Jungkook grunts as he steadies the car again, his face burning hot as he hears Jimin laughing along in the backseat. Leave it to his friends to act like they’ve never seen more explicit photos, parading it around like it’s the first x-rated polaroid they’ve ever seen as if they didn’t have a collection of ridiculous porn bookmarked onto their phones.

The way Taehyung’s currently holding the photo up gives Yoongi a clear view of it and as his eyes lock onto yours he tilts his head slightly. What was Jungkook doing with a photo of you, covered in cum with his dick in your mouth.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Jimin teases, placing his hands on his shoulders and laughing louder when Jungkook finally snatches the photo from his friends grasp, swatting the side of his head for good measure before stuffing it back into the center console and slamming it shut.

“No, she’s mine.” Yoongi finally speaks up, leaning back into his seat and staring at the back of Jungkook’s head as he drove. A small smile is on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, the entire car falling into a dead silence, no one wanting to break it until they knew how serious this was. 

Taehyung is half expecting this to become a world star beat down whereas Jimin can’t tell if he’s joking or not, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Yoongi and Jungkook. He sort of wishes he had never asked for a charger now.

Jungkook can’t get himself to say anything, his fingers gripping his steering wheel tighter as his mind starts to spin, desperately waiting for the joking laughter to ensue but it never comes.

Could he really be your boyfriend? Had you been with Yoongi even when you were going on dates with Namjoon or was Yoongi new. Then came the twist of the knife when he realizes that if Yoongi was new, filling in Jungkook’s shoes now that he was gone, you had seen him in a better light than you’d ever see Jungkook in, making him your boyfriend in a few weeks when Jungkook’s known you for years.

“Why do you have a photo of Y/N giving you head?” Yoongi asks, a little caught off guard by the situation. The two of you weren’t officially dating yet but considering he had met your family it felt a little unnerving to see a photo of you like that with someone that wasn’t him.

He’s not upset at Jungkook, he can see how flustered he is, but he needed some form of explanation before he filed you under cheater in his mind.

“It’s an old photo.” Jungkook can barely get out, wanting to shrivel up at the awkward tension filling up the car.

“How old?”

“Over a month ago.” That admittedly wasn’t that old and it doesn’t do much to settle Yoongi’s uncertainty but he decides not to push it, the only person who needed to explain was you.

“I can toss the photo if you want me to.” Jungkook suggests, he had forgotten about the photo after he stuffed it into the center console when he left your house and although he would like to keep it, now that the cat was out of the bag and your new boy of interest had seen it, he felt a little wrong holding on to it. What were the fucking odds.

Yoongi shakes his head, it was a photo taken from your camera and you obviously knew it was being taken, if Jungkook wanted to keep it for whatever weird reason that was his call, for all he knew Jungkook was one of your exes. 

“Just maybe don’t keep it in your car man.” Yoongi suggests, his fingers itching by his side with the want to text you for an explanation but he knows he needs to play his cards right to get an actual answer from you.

Jungkook takes Yoongi’s suggestion as a demand, the second he gets back home after they finished hanging out he pockets the photo once more and decides to shove the photo deep into his underwear drawer. Hopefully it’s something he’ll forget about and stumble upon in a few years and not feel the same gutted emotions he does now.

Jungkook knows he’s only hurting himself further by allowing a fragile string to continue to tie the two of you together but its the small tinge of hope that maybe one day he’d feel a tug from the string in your direction that prevents him from snipping it.

As he lays in bed he feels a similar dark shadow start to fall over him, reminiscent to the one that had nearly swallowed him whole weeks ago. The only plus side to this was that he now knew that you had moved on, something that should help him think straight, not let his memories get warped until you’re seen as this sweet angel that never did him any wrong.

The other plus side was that he didn’t get his ass beat by Yoongi, the boy had swept it under the rug and went about the rest of the day as if nothing had happened. He was unaware that Yoongi was at your place now with Jungkook being the topic of discussion.

Yoongi was currently trying his best to not burn a hole in your floor as he paced back and forth on your carpet with you staring at him looking as comfortable as ever on your bed. How you looked like that when he had just interrogated you on your relationship with the other boy was beyond him.

He wasn’t even sure if you were lying to him or not, your answers seemed too practiced to be truthful, too thought out for him to fully believe. The second he had brought Jungkook up it was like your brain went into autopilot and the perfect answers he was looking for just spilled out.

But somewhere along the line you said something that rubbed him the wrong way, a phrase that made him double take when you implied that Jungkook meant absolutely nothing to you, how it was all fun and games and Yoongi didn’t buy that for a second. The defeated look on Jungkook’s face throughout the rest of the day showed Yoongi how he felt and it sure as hell didn’t look like absolutely nothing.

Even if you and Jungkook weren’t serious, the way you were speaking about him, with no sympathy or regard to how he felt it made Yoongi a little uncomfortable. Had you said that Jungkook was horrible, treated you like garbage or anything that warranted this sort of reaction he could understand but you just seemed so emotionless.

“You don’t care about him?” Theres been an evil glint in your eye ever since Yoongi mentioned Jungkook, the slight anger you felt at him treating you how you treated him resurfacing at his name. You don’t even know why he’s asking you this, did he want you to say you didn’t care about him to boost his own ego or did he want you to say you did to see if your feelings lied deeper?

“Why should I?” Your tone is cold and Yoongi is a little caught off guard at how quickly you’re able to turn off the bubbly personality he had been drawn to in the beginning.

“I mean considering you let him photograph you sucking his dick I’m not really buying this whole facade you have going on right now.”

A small laugh fills the room and Yoongi can only stare at you, briefly wondering if this was some sort of joke because the way you’re acting now is the polar opposite to the you he’s known for the past month. You just found the situation laughable, you always covered your tracks, careful enough to not trip over your own lies but your edge must be wearing off.

“There’s no facade.” You reply calmly, hoping the soft look in your eyes is convincing enough for him but it’s not. Yoongi knows he must be on to something, the minute he brought Jungkook up he saw the way your demeanor changed and now he wasn’t sure if you were just down right heartless or playing it off.

“You honestly don’t have any empathy for other people do you?” He shoots out, looking directly at you and seeing the way your eyes lose their sweetness, narrowing in size as you try your best not to glare at him but he can see right through it. He can tell he’s digging a little too close to uncharted territory but he was sick of the mystery that was you, never knowing where anything stood because you were too selfish to think of other people’s emotions due to your actions.

“Is that really what you’re focused on.”

“Yeah, a little.” He scoffs in disbelief, “I don’t really want to find out my girlfriend’s a fucking sociopath years down the line.”

You laugh again at that, leaning back on your arms as you sit on your bed, “Girlfriend?” The look you give him makes him stumble over his words for the first time, realizing that you hadn’t ever put a label on what you were and now feeling a little embarrassed by your condescending tone.

You honestly don’t even know why you react the way you do, you actually liked Yoongi, could see this becoming something serious, but the way he was exposing your faults, making you see the parts of you that desperately needed work, it rubbed you the wrong way so you needed to knock him down a few pegs. A classic self sabotaging move you always did, not being able to bite down the hurtful words you knew you’d throw his way.

“You think I’m your girlfriend?” You ask, only rubbing salt onto the slowly opening wound and he almost winces but he can see that this is your defense mechanism so he doesn’t let it burn as much as he knows it should.

“Is that what you’re gonna turn this into?” He counters, a displeased look on his face, “Trying to hurt my feelings because I’m asking you pretty justified questions is a low blow Y/N.”

That shuts you up, the next batch of spiteful words you were ready to shoot his way dissolving on your tongue when you see the way he looks at you. You’d expect him to be angry, visibly upset at what you had said but instead he just looks tired.

“Look, I obviously struck a nerve bringing him up because this–“ he motions to you, making you realize how tense your body had become, “isn’t the you I know, so whenever you decide to put your fangs away and talk about your buried emotions let me know.”

You don’t even know how to respond to the way he shut you down with ease, your eyes only showing more of your confusion when he steps forward and kisses the top of your head, “Goodnight.” Is all he says before turning around to leave your room and apartment altogether.

“Goodnight.” You weakly mumble out as he shuts the door behind him, completely throwing you off the course of events you were sure were about to transpire.

The anger you felt inside slowly starts to fizzle out until all you feel is sick, a pit of disgust brewing inside of you at the way you had behaved. Not just with him but with Jungkook.

This had become a regular feeling for you ever since Jungkook decided to throw you aside, being the main reason you had decided to hold on to Yoongi when you had met him by chance, needing something to distract you so the guilt you felt wouldn’t drive you into doing something you knew you’d regret.

The amount of times you wanted to reach out to him during these last few weeks was concerning for you, never really realizing just how much you relied on him when you needed to get out of your head. The slow clarity that he had always been quick to come to you and offer help in any way he could while you always shut him down, diverting questions when he’d ask what was wrong because you were scared of him getting too close, all it had done was burn him.

You had left him scarred and wounded as he laid on his bed, contemplating smothering himself with his pillow as he regretted his life choices that landed him in this situation. It’s the selfish side of you that has you opening up your phone and calling his number without a second thought, you keep it on speaker and toss it on the bed, half expecting it to go directly to voicemail since you were sure he had blocked your number too, but it continues to ring.

Jungkook nearly bolts up in shock when the phone by his head starts to vibrate and light up, his squinting eyes staring at the screen and freezing when he sees your name displayed on it. He feels like he stops breathing as his phone buzzes on his comforter, it was now clear that Yoongi had in fact brought him up to you and he was pretty sure if he answered the phone it would not go in his favor.

He lets it ring until it eventually goes to voicemail, his phone dimming down once more and he finally relaxes. It only lasts a brief moment, his phone buzzing once more with a text this time and he doesn’t want to open it.

Instead he grabs the device and stuffs it in between his mattress and box spring, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath before sliding back into bed and forcing himself to sleep.

It doesn’t come easy for either of you, he’s constantly tossing and turning on his bed, having to shove his hands under his butt to get them to stop creeping toward the side his phone was tucked under. You on the other hand are constantly checking your phone when you wake up every few minutes, phantom rings pulling you from your slumber and hoping Jungkook responded to your text but every time you blindly stare at the brightness of your screen you’re met with nothing, not even the read display that usually appeared.

It’s not until the sun peaks over the horizon, the soft orange illuminating the inside of Jungkook’s room and waking him up, that he feels his resolve cracking. He tries to blame it on his half asleep state, not being awake enough to know right from wrong but he’s way too aware of the way his fingers move and latch on to his device as he pulls it from its hiding spot.

It takes him a moment to build up the courage to open up your message, half expecting a massive paragraph with you telling him off for whatever reason but the only thing that greets him is a short ‘can we talk please’.

He’s not sure what makes him wary, the fact that you want to talk or you using the word please. Jungkook’s fingers hover over the keyboard, not sure if he should even respond to you. This was what he wanted though isn’t it? The main reason he had decided not to block your number, hoping you’d reach out and explain yourself. But now that you had done the first half he wasn’t sure he wanted to see it through.

Still, his fingers take over and type out a quick response.

jungkook 7:49am : talk about what

The buzzing wakes you up instantly, your phone clutched to your chest in the same position you had fallen asleep in with the hope that he’d respond.

It’s a little surprising to see that he doesn’t immediately agree like he normally does, dropping whatever he was doing to come to your place like he used to but you guess it was called for.

y/n 7:50am : i just want to clear the air

y/n 7:50am : do you wanna have breakfast?

He hates that he feels the tiniest spark of excitement inside of him at you asking him out for breakfast, something he had been wanting forever, but his fingers shake too much as he holds the device, his body reminding him of the withdraws he had already gone through once before. He couldn’t do this again.

jungkook 7:54am : i don’t think thats a good idea

You can only stare at your screen, not knowing how to respond to his message. It was your own selfish desire to fix things, to help ease the guilt off your chest, that made you want to persuade him to do what you asked but when your phone vibrates a second time you know his mind is set and it’s best to leave it alone.

jungkook 7:57am : please don’t message me again, it’s better this way.

You once again feel the familiar twist in your chest, more so when you respond with a simple okay and your bubble turns green before a notification pops up stating the message could no longer be delivered. Jungkook had been the one to weld the chest shut this time, blocking your number to finalize it before locking his phone once more and begging himself to go about his day as if the curiosity of what you wanted to tell him wasn’t eating him alive.

“Jungkook you need oyster sauce and soy sauce, they’re not interchangeable!” Jimin scolds when Jungkook places the oyster sauce back onto the self, his hand once again swiping it off and placing it into the basket he was currently holding.

“Damn sorry, I told you I don’t know what I’m doing.” Jungkook groans, giving his friend a pout that goes ignored because he’s too focused on running through the list he had on his phone to ensure nothing was forgotten.

Jimin was in charge of helping Jungkook out today on his date, it was Valentines day and Jungkook had been dating his girlfriend for a few months now and wanted to make this date a little more special than just eating out. However, he wasn’t blessed with culinary skills so Jimin would be helping him out throughout it all and making a swift exit before his girlfriend would arrive for dinner.

Jungkook wanders off when he notices Jimin is still hyper focused on the array of sauces lined up in this aisle, ending up in the makeshift Valentines day aisle set up, the plush toys in pink and red all holding candies with cute sayings sewn on to the heart on their chests. It seemed too easy to just pick one up and settle with that so he gives himself a mission to do while Jimin finishes up the essentials.

He roams the entire store, grabbing a lavender wired bucket with enough of his girlfriend’s favorite candies to fill the bottom of it, along with that comes an elephant plushie that happened to be her favorite animal. Jungkook had spotted a bouquet of sunflowers by the front of the store so he makes his way in that direction once more, passing by Jimin who was looking for him but continuing on in his trek.

Just as he grabs the bouquet he wanted he hears his name being called and for a moment he thinks he imagined it, not being able to place the voice it belonged to but when it repeats itself much closer he turns around.

Jungkook is even more caught off guard when he spots your brother, looking nothing like the shy and awkward 13 year old he was back then. He hadn’t seen him since he stopped tutoring him nearly four years ago but he recognized the eyes that he shared with you.

“Jihoon?” He questions, smiling when the younger boy nods. He had always looked up to Jungkook, practically idolized him when he was tutoring him, wanting to be him in every aspect. Jungkook had been everything a nerdy 13 year old boy would want to be, adopting a similar clothing style to him that had managed to still stick around with age.

“I saw you and just had to come say hey.” Jihoon says, pulling him in for a typical bro hug.

Jimin huffs as he reaches Jungkook, having chased him down the aisles and finally catching up to him. He gives the younger boy a wave, a little confused as to who he is but when he hears your voice and spots you, it all clicks in his mind.

“Jihoon c’mon, we need to grab what dad wants!” You shout from the end of the aisle, not wanting to approach Jungkook to save yourself the embarrassment. You were still completely blocked off of everything, no form of communication happening between the two of you since that night. The town you lived in was small so it was kind of inevitable that you’d run in to him eventually but having it be today of all days, with him holding up Valentine’s day items just made it all a little more sour.

He looks up at the sound of your voice and gives you a faint smile because thats just who he is, it doesn’t pain him to look at you now though, the small void you had left inside of him nearly patched all the way up with time and distance.

“I know, but look who it is.” Your brother announces, completely unaware that you and Jungkook had very much stayed in contact after he finished tutoring him. You knew who it was, you were very familiar with Jungkook’s face and could probably spot the back of his head in a crowd.

“Hi Jungkook.” You muster out, slowly making your way down the aisle towards them because you knew your brother wouldn’t back off unless you came over and greeted his old tutor.

“How are things with Yoongi?” Jimin speaks up, a knife slicing through the tension and a knowing look on his face as he stares you down. He knew that you and Yoongi were no longer together, having to be the ear Yoongi vented to with all of your problems while at work and while hanging out, knowing that Yoongi had tried his best to make it work but you had been too stubborn, too stuck in your ways to even budge. Jimin knew enough about you now to be able to connect the dots to the way Jungkook had been so torn months prior. You were a bitch and he didn’t like you.

“Oh, we broke up.” You utter out, an odd look on your face because you had no idea who Jimin was or how he knew both Yoongi and Jungkook but you figure thats irrelevant now, staring back at Jungkook and seeing a neutral expression on his face.

Jihoon, not being able to read the room, asks Jungkook if hes buying groceries for a Valentines date tonight and Jungkook shyly confirms it, teasingly asking Jihoon if he had a date tonight as well. “Nah, haven’t hooked anyone onto me yet. Y/N and I are just helping our dad make something for our mom tonight.”

“Yeah speaking of that, we need to get going Jihoon.” You hope your brother can sense your tone, your fingers tempted to grab onto his hair and yank him away, needing him to move along and let you get as far from Jungkook as possible. That sinking feeling in your stomach had returned, only worsening when you realized how good he was doing, how unaffected he was at seeing you.

“Right, anyways, have a nice night with your girlfriend.” He sings with a playful wave as he retreats from the aisle to go back to shopping. You linger a little at the end of the aisle and stare at him for a moment longer, a small wave being sent his way that he reciprocates with a smile.

“Isn’t she polaroid girl?” Jimin grunts out as he readjusts the basket he was holding, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” Jungkook mumbles out, continuing to stare at the end of the aisle where you had disappeared, the polaroid being a distant memory in his mind after he had burned it.

“Babe,” Jungkook laughs into the receiver of his phone, resting against the cool exterior of the bar all of his friends were in, “I promise there wont be a repeat of last time.”

“That laugh means trouble Jungkook,” Sooyoung giggles back, already mentally preparing to baby Jungkook back to health when he undoubtably arrives home absolutely hammered, “If I have to hold your hand while you barf up everything and refuse water again I’m filing for divorce!”

Jungkook gasps dramatically, his hand placed over his heart as he hears the way his wife snickers, “Less than a month after and you’re already calling it quits?”

Sooyoung just hums along, sat on the couch of their house and flicking through the channels to find something to watch while their dog laid snuggled up by her feet, “Thats just how to cookie crumbles, unless,” she pauses, mentally picturing the way Jungkook raises his eyebrows as he waits, “you hold my hand while I barf next week when I go out with the girls.”

“You run a tough bargain, but I’ll even hold your hair back hows that?”

“Sounds perfect, be safe Kookie. I love you.” She smiles as the words leave her mouth, the fluttering affect he had on her never fading even after all this time.

“Always, I love you too.” He blushes as he makes a kissy noise, smiling wide when he hears one back before ending the call and and makes his way back inside, instantly spotting his friends gathered around the booth they had managed to snag.

When he makes his way over to them he slides in beside Taehyung, squishing him and Hobi into the booth and hearing them groan in protest.

“Are you done confessing your profound love for Sooyoung?” Jimin teases before throwing back a shot of vodka, he was already very loosened up, this being the second bar they visited due to celebrating Jimin’s wedding in a week.

“Shut up, as if I didn’t catch you literally on the verge of tears in the bathroom as you talked to Daehyun earlier.” Jungkook smiles when Jimin zips his mouth and locks it with an imaginary key, not denying any but of information Jungkook just spilled out. The rest of his friends howl in laughter at the secret, riling him up further and Jungkook decides his job here is done, getting up to order another drink and another round of shots for everyone else.

He leans over the counter and grabs the bar tenders attention with a soft wave of his hand, “Can I get a whiskey sour and another round of shots of tequila.” The woman nods, already having his card on a tab and begins making the drinks for him.

Jungkook settles into one of the stools there, getting comfortable as he waits, not yet sensing the eyes currently staring a hole through his temple from a few seats away.

You had spotted Jungkook walking in with his friends earlier, watching him step out for a phone call before coming back in again. He looked a little different from the last time you saw him, his hair a little longer now with a slight wave to it as it reached his cheekbones. The last time you had seen him was in passing at the same grocery store a few months ago, you had managed to duck into an aisle before he spotted you, being none the wiser that you were hiding from him.

Jungkook starts to feel the burning from his side of someone staring, slowly turning his head until his eyes meet your stunned ones. You expect him to look away, pretend he doesn’t know you and try to hide like you always do but instead he smiles at you, waving you over like you were an old friend of his.

It takes a few moments of building up courage before you get up from your spot and move across the three stools that separated you two with your drink in your hand.

“Hey, how have you been?” He asks with a soft grin, thanking the bar tender as she places his drink and the line of shots in front of him.

“I’ve been alright, Jihoon just moved out of state for work so my parents have been extra needy without someone to baby.” You force a smile back at him, your finger tracing the rim of your glass as you beg the awkwardness to leave, not used to having the underhand in situations like this.

“He’s gonna do great things I’m sure.” Jungkook sighs, taking a sip of his drink and humming at the taste. Looking at him now was like looking at an entirely different person, sure he had the same face but the way he carried himself was a stark contrast to the Jungkook you were accustomed to from three years ago, no longer second guessing himself, instead speaking with an aura of confidence and ease surrounding him.

“You know he never shut up about you once you stopped tutoring him?” You laugh, seeing the smile spreading on Jungkook’s face, “I remember that one time he begged my parents to buy him that one yellow jacket you own, he had to get straight A’s all semester before they got it for him and he never took it off.”

A genuine smile spreads across your lips as you reminisce on the times before, how you had taken them for granted and now seemed to grasp at anything that reminded you of it.

“We had something good going before, I’m sorry for ruining it.”

That catches Jungkook off guard, setting his drink down with a soft thud as he looks over at you fully, “I guess that depends what you consider good.” He jokes, proud that he can make light of a situation that used to leave him feeling wounded.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” You cringe, not yet having the luxury of the past not affecting you. He watches on as you take a big gulp of your drink, wiping the excess that drips down your lip with your fingers.

“Don’t be, it’s water under the bridge.” He reassures you, reaching across the small gap between you two and placing his hand over yours when he notices the small trembles of nerves making them shake.

Your hand turns in his grasp, your fingers wrapping around his large ones in a search for comfort. The intentions you originally had when you first spot him leave you as your thumb traces the black band around his ring finger, a clear sign that he was off the market for good, making the words spoil in your mouth as you hold them back.

“Oh, when did this happen?” You ask softly, letting his hand go as he brings it up to spread his fingers out with a proud look on his face.

“About a month ago, I managed to trick someone into marrying me.” He jokes, a glimmer in his eyes as he recalls the day of his wedding, the happiness swelling his heart when he thinks of coming home to Sooyoung after the night is over.

“You never needed to trick someone into marrying you Kookie.” The sound of his nickname doesn’t feel right coming out of your mouth now, like nails to a chalkboard, no longer making his stomach flutter the way it used to.

“It felt like I did.” He admits with a shrug, remembering the years of him pining over you, making a fool of himself for the off chance that’d you one day see him for what he was worth. But like he said, it was all water under the bridge and seeing you here was a welcomed surprise to him now.

You want to say more to him but your tongue gets tied up, no longer having the list of phrases you were going to use when you spotted him. Jungkook catches on to the discomfort growing within you so he downs the rest of his drink to free his hands to be able to carry the shots to his thirsty friends.

“It was good seeing you.” His eyes are sincere as he stares at you for the last time, “I’ll see you around.” You know thats the truth, no doubt would you two run in to each other once more but you know this will be the closest interaction you’ll have. He still had you blocked on everything even years later, not knowing a single piece of information on you and leaving you in the dark about his. But this was just the way things were meant to be.

“Yeah, good seeing you too Jungkook.” You whisper out, watching him as he grasps the shot glasses and makes his way back to his friends, hollers and cheers filling up the bar at the sight of alcohol.

Jungkook slips back into his seat, passing the glasses around to everyone and raising them up to cheer for the end Jimin as an unmarried man. As he throws back the shot, nearly having it come out through his nose when he laughs as he sees the disgusted look Taehyung makes at the taste, he can’t stop himself from looking back in your direction.

You’re still sat on the stool, finishing up the rest of your drink and signing off your tab with a grin on your face. He eyes you curiously when you put your card away, your fingers sorting through your bag before pulling out a shiny diamond ring and slipping it back onto your ring finger.

He can’t help but feel a little disappointed at his realization, having almost fallen into the same web of lies you had intricately set up for him. Staring at him and knowing he’d catch you in the act, hoping to rope him in to bed one last time but the black band on his finger had been what broke the spell, making that same pit of disgust brew inside you and fill you with guilt at what you almost did.

As you walk out, eyes landing on Jungkook’s and noticing that he had spotted your own wedding band you give him that same shamless smile he had burned into his memory before slipping out of the bar altogether, returning home to your husband who would be none the wiser.

Jungkook just shakes his head as he reaches for another shot in the center of the table and throws it back, joining in with the laughter of his friends. Taehyung jostles him around as he recalls a story from the last time they were here but Jungkook’s mind is still focused on you.

Old habits died hard and it seemed like you never had any intention of changing. You may have left him shredded in a thousand parts but he took pride in being able to say that he put himself back together on his own, and when his phone lights up with a goofy selfie of his wife and their dog he realizes he had dodged a bullet, no longer hating the string of events that lead him to where he was now.