#both playlists have love love love and this year for emotional support reasons to beat back the anxiety but. my playlist shall grow slowly

[depresseddepot]

I'm chewing on the walls bc my dm hasn't seen my question about my character's backstory yet and I am trying SO HARD to keep myself on the rails and not run off with something I'm not even allowed to do yet

[spidernerdsblog]

Hi 🙋‍♀️I have a request if u take them. Cud u write sth about Tom Holland x singer reader and the reader is performing at the Grammys or sth and the performance and song and costume is like really seggsy and Tom gets jealous??? Idk 🤷‍♀️ Sorry to bother u I just love your writing

Sorry this took me so long was at a lack of ideas. I strongly believe Taylor Swift’s reputation deserved a Grammy. So I'm borrowing her album for the reader. Hope you like this.

Pairing : Tom Holland x Singer! Reader

Warnings : angst, fluff, jealousy, suggestive theme, missed typos

Mini Playlist : Endgame by Taylor Swift, There’s nothing holding me back by Shawn Mendes

Baby I'm jealous

You and Tom were seated at the back when your limo pulled over at the venue. You could hear the commotion from the inside even though you have walked numerous red carpets by now but it still seems to be a little nerve racking to you. Especially when this is the first time Tom is accompanying you to the Grammys which is going to be a big deal for the media. The security personnel opened the door and as you stepped out of the car you were flooded with flashing lights from the cameras. 

Tom held out his hand for you, you slipped your arm into his and walked with a dazzling smile posing for the cameras “you look amazing, darling” he knelt down to whisper in your ear. In the meantime a lady journalist came forward to ask you a bunch of questions. 

“So Y/N three nominations this year, how are you feeling?” 

“Well it’s always good to be back here and share the stage with all these talented artists as usual I’m excited and looking forward to the night” you answered.

“We see you have brought company this year” she remarked which had you blushing.

“Yeah, I couldn't think of a better company than him on this very important occasion” you said bashfully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Tom, what do you have to say?” she poses the question to him.

“Uhh I mean she has always been an incredible singer and her songs are the reason that made me fall in love with her in the first place” he replied looking proudly at you.

“Aww you both are adorable. Wish you the best” she said before leaving.

“Thank you so much” you thanked her, walking inside the auditorium and sat on your designated seats. There you were met with lots of your friends from the music industry as you said hi and chatted with them for a while.

“Hey Y/N how are you?!” you heard Shawn from behind as you turned around and went to eagerly hug him. You and Shawn were really good friends from the beginning of your career and you have always been supporting each other’s works.

“I’m good, how are you?” you chirped.

“I’m fine now” he remarked cheekily and went to sit beside you as you started talking catching up on each other totally ignoring Tom. To be honest he was a little annoyed seeing you so over friendly with him but he brushed off his thoughts quickly.

The show began and a few awards were distributed with some performances in between by different artists. You too had to perform for tonight which also included a duet with Shawn and soon your time came as you stood up from your seat to go backstage.

“Best of luck, love” Tom said to boost your confidence.

“Thanks babe” you kissed on his cheek lovingly.

“See you on the stage Y/N” Shawn snickered.

“Oh I’m looking forward to it” you blew him an air kiss and headed backstage to change into your stage outfit. The stage was set and you could hear the loud cheers of the audience from backstage. Truth to be told you always get a little nervous before any public concert but this time it was different because Tom sat there in the audience and you are more excited than nervous to perform. The lights went out and the screen doors slid open as you walked on the stage with the spotlight on you. The notes begin to play as you vocalize striding across the stage with oomph.

I wanna be your endgame

I wanna be your first string

I wanna be your A-Team

I wanna be your endgame, endgame

The crowd cheered as the supporting dancers slowly entered the stage. Tom sat amidst the crowd in awe witnessing you in your full glory. You owned the stage like a queen. He knew you were the prettiest woman he has ever met but the bodycon suit you were wearing accentuated your curves all at the right places.

Big reputation, big reputation

Ooh you and me we got big reputations, ah

And you heard about me, ooh

I got some big enemies

You waltzed around the stage with a sultry look in your eyes, slightly swaying your hips making the crowd go crazy. Tom was very good at keeping his emotions under check but when it comes to you he’s a possessive man so when he heard a few men from the crowd passing comments of how hot and sexy you looked he was fuming from inside. You went on to sing two more songs from your album then transitioned to Shawn’s latest single.

You take me places that tear up my reputation

Manipulate my decisions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

“Make some noise for Shawn Mendes!” you cheered as he emerged from the backstage playing the chords on his guitar and the audience screamed at the top of their voice.

I wanna follow where she goes

I think about her and she knows it

I wanna let her take control

'Cause everytime that she gets close, yeah

He sang with his gaze directed at you which didn’t go unnoticed by Tom who was looking at you both with narrowed eyes and clenched jaws. 

She pulls me in enough to keep me guessing (mmm)

And maybe I should stop and start confessing

Confessing, yeah

You joined in singing along the lyrics with him exchanging flirtatious gestures with each other. You encouraged the audience to sing along with you.

Oh, I've been shaking

I love it when you go crazy

You take all my inhibitions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

You take me places that tear up my reputation

Manipulate my decisions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

There's nothing holdin' me back

There's nothing holdin' me back

You were clearly having a fun time sharing the stage with Shawn as you both swayed to the beat with a wide smile and the crowd cheered you on. Tom heard  someone saying “they make a good pair” and he completely lost it. Now he was jealous even though he knows it’s wrong because you had always made it clear that you loved him more than anything but you in that ravishing outfit dancing and singing being way too comfortable around each other wasn’t helping much. 

Your performance ended after some time and Tom couldn’t be anymore happier. You were back in the audience again as Shawn couldn’t stop praising you “you just set the stage on fire Y/N! It was awesome”

“Oh shut up! You weren’t bad either” you quipped. Tom sat there silently feeling neglected at how you had time to talk with everyone except him. The show ended with you winning the three categories you were nominated for : album of the year, song of the year and artist of the year. You were elated at your achievements as your team escorted you for a photo session. You saw Tom standing at a distance and walked over to him.

“Why are you standing here? Come and stand with me” you said, grabbing his arm.

“No I’m better off standing here rather than being your arm candy” he says bitterly pulling out his arm from your hold.

“What?!” you were slightly taken aback as you looked at him in confusion.

“Hey Y/N!” your manager called out.

“Just a moment!” you told him to wait and dragged Tom to a corner.

“What the hell was that back there?” you hissed at him.

“You know it very well” you shrugged with a disinterested look on his face.

“I-I really don’t understand where this is coming from Tom but are you upset with something?” you were really concerned with his sudden outburst.

“Well isn’t that obvious? When your girlfriend brings you to a public event to treat you like a sidepiece and goes on flirting with her colleagues on stage it is naturally upsetting” he jabbed at you.  

“Are you even listening to what you are saying Tom? Everyone here are my work friends just like you have” you retorted in a hushed tone.

“Well it looked more than just friends” he bit back.

“Now you’re being ridiculous” you were totally done with him, fuming at his accusation.

“Y/N come fast!” your manager called you again.

“Yeah coming!” you replied and turned to Tom again “you know what it was actually my fault that I brought you along with me. I thought we were ready to take the next step in our relationship but it clearly doesn’t look like that” you snapped at him and walked back to have your pictures taken. You were stopped by various people, for interviews as well as to congratulate you for your win but you were so annoyed with Tom you couldn’t concentrate properly.

Towards the end of the night, you had almost forgotten about Tom’s comments as you busied yourself into conversations with different people from the industry, sipping on champagne. 

As soon as he cooled down Tom was quick to realize his mistake and tried to approach you several times, but you successfully ignored him by preoccupying yourself elsewhere. He eventually caught up to you, grabbing your arm before you could walk away “Y/N, please. Can we just talk for a second?”

“No I don’t think so because I’m quite busy flirting with each and every guy over here” you snapped, turning to walk away. He grabbed your arm again, “Y/N, c’mon love, I’m really sorry” he whined.

You whipped around “not now Tom. We will talk after we get out of here so if you will excuse me” saying so you walked away to be stopped by a reporter for another interview. The after party ended an hour as you and Tom exited the place. You climbed into the limo, quickly putting up the privacy window. Tom climbed in after you, taking a seat glancing at you.

“What?” you scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. You could tell he was really upset with what he’d said earlier. 

“Y/N.. I can't even explain how sorry I am” he started “I know I was being a dick back there and I feel terrible about it”

You leaned back in your seat sighing “you know what, I'm really tired. Can we talk about this after we reach home?” He nodded silently in agreement without uttering a single word on the drive back.

Once you got home, you walked through the living room and made your way into your shared bedroom. You sat on the bed taking off your heels and massaged your ankles. After sometime Tom joined you in the bedroom. He takes off his suit jacket and loosens his tie as you stare at him for a second. He looked so good in formal attire which filled your head with filthy thoughts. How you could have celebrated your win in a different way but he had to ruin it by acting out like that.

“Y/N, I truly am sorry. I.. I have no excuse for my behavior. It was completely my fault” he walked over to you, sitting next to you on the bed.

You sighed deeply and stood up walking over to your walk in closet. Your hands went to your back to reach out to the zipper of your dress “I really didn’t expect this from you at least. Of all the people I thought you would understand since you are in the same line of work” you said with disappointment clear in your voice. Tom hung his head low in shame.

“I know babe it was rude and totally uncalled for. I was a fucking idiot and let my insecurities get the best of me” he said with remorse.

“Then just think about how I feel when I have to watch you making out with other women on screen. I never said anything to you. Instead I always supported you and you on the other hand questioned our relationship just because I was singing and dancing with someone else who happens to be a very good friend of mine” you ranted still struggling with the zipper of your dress “a little help please?” you huffed slightly irritated and angry.

Tom bit back a smile as he walked over to you and helped you unzip your dress. He took your hands in his and pecked on them gently “I didn't mean to ruin the night for you” he apologized, looking down at your hands.

You pulled out your hands and crossed your arms “well it wasn’t that bad given that I won three Grammys but I wished you were there by my side” you said completely forgetting that you were standing there in just your strapless bra and very tiny pair of lace underwear.

Tom was eyeing you the whole time with a known smirk plastered on his face. You noticed that and looked down at yourself “oh, c’mon. I’m trying to have a serious conversation here!” you scoffed, throwing your hands in the air. You shook your head in annoyance and grabbed the black silk robe, tying it around your body.

Tom was broken out of his trance as he walked over to you, placing a hand on your cheek “Y/N believe me I’m really sorry. I wish I could take back all the horrible things I said to you. You didn’t deserve any of it. Sorry for being such a jerk to you”

Your expression softened as you held his hand gently “well I’m glad to hear that. And even if I try I can’t stay mad at you for a longtime so apology accepted” you said with a smile. 

“Thank you darling it would never happen again I promise” he says stroking his thumb on your cheek bone as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips “and I mean it” he stated a hand reaching up to untie your robe as your robe fell open, your breath hitched “though it was slightly your fault too, how do you expect me to not get jealous seeing you with someone else looking so bloody gorgeous in that outfit?” he hooked his index finger under the silk on your shoulder, pulling the robe down slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin “but I’m really sorry” he whispers in a husky tone. 

“Then prove it” you looked at him challengingly, a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without any further delay Tom crashed his lips to yours effortlessly lifting you up by your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

...........................................................

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Part 4

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Self Control

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader (eventual)

Other Pairings: Dean x Lisa, Female!Reader x OMC – Ethan (past, mentioned)

Word Count: 6,612 (thoughts, song lyrics in italics)

Part Summary: After Charlie witnesses the looks between Dean and Y/N outside the school on Friday, she convinces Y/N they should go out for drinks. At the bar, Charlie and Y/N bond, as she opens up to Charlie about Dean but also her past. After several drinks, Y/N goes home drunk and gets a little help from a friend. The next day brings a little embarrassment, but also brings up feelings within Dean and Y/N, that they know they shouldn’t be feeling.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of cheating, Mentions of reader’s ex, Talk of Emotional Abuse, Mentions of a physical incident against reader, Drunk reader, Embarrassment, Dean being sweet (yes, that’s a warning), flirting, forbidden feelings

Music: Deeper in the Water by The Lone Bellow (playing in the background while Y/N is baking scene), Wherever I May Roam by Metallica (Dean and Y/N backyard scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: Thank you to everyone for your wonderful comments on this series so far! I’m so glad you’re all enjoying it! This part is a little heavier, so please read the warnings. Please share your thoughts with me, I love hearing what you all think! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics​! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!

Life’s Lessons Masterlist

Y/N took off her red glasses, smiling as she looked at her students. She could see them all flicking their eyes up at the clock every now and then, wondering when the bell would ring. She found it amusing as she tried not to laugh. It was Friday and they couldn’t wait to get out of there and start their weekend fun. She couldn’t wait herself, hoping to have some time for herself, call her family and maybe go see a movie.

Unfortunately for her students, they still had some time before they could leave, using that time to take the notes for the criteria set for their book reports. She watched as they all scribbled in their notebooks hurriedly, wanting to get out as soon as the bell went off.

“Make sure it’s personal to you” she told them as they wrote. “Books have a way of really affecting us, so I want you guys to choose something that really had a big effect on you.”

Some of them mumbled an “okay” while others nodded.

Suddenly, the bell rang, and they all sprung up at the same time. It was like how smaller children got excited for ice-cream.

“Alright, don’t all head out at the same time! You’ll plow each other out of the way!” she laughed.

“Sorry, Miss Y/L/N” one student called out.

“Have a great weekend, guys!” she called out in return.

Y/N walked out of the room as well, following them down the hallway and out of the school building. She smiled as students were being picked up by their parents, getting on the bus home or their bikes and riding home. She spotted a parent of one of her students notice her, walking over to her.

“Miss Y/L/N?” the woman asked.

“Yes” Y/N smiled, offering her hand.

“Oh, it’s wonderful to meet you, I’m Carol. Amy’s mom” she said, shaking Y/N’s hand.

“Wonderful to meet you, too” Y/N agreed.

“I just wanted to come and introduce myself and welcome you” Carol said, a bright, peaceful smile on her face. “I know it’s already been a couple of weeks, but I hope you’re loving Lawrence.”

Y/N nodded. “I’m definitely warming up to life here.”

“Well, Amy’s really fond of you. English is already her favorite subject but she’s so happy to have someone like you teaching it” Carol complemented her.

Y/N beamed, her heart soaring. It was always great to hear when kids enjoyed a subject and the way you taught it.

“She’s a great student, so that definitely makes it easy” Y/N told her.

Carol blushed, delighted by the complement for her daughter. “Well, we better go. I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

“Of course,” Y/N said. “It was great to meet you.”

As Carol walked away after saying goodbye, Y/N looked around as the crowds of children started to clear. She spotted Charlie and was about to walk over, when she noticed who she was talking to. Dean was leaning against his car, aviators on and laughing at something Charlie just said. Ben was sitting in the car, waiting for Dean. She didn’t realize that Charlie knew Dean too, but she really should’ve made the connection considering she knew Cas, and Cas knew Dean. She thought about going over there, but she didn’t want to interrupt them. Plus, after what happened the other night at dinner with him and Lisa, she wasn’t sure if she should go over there.

“Y/N!” she heard her redheaded friend call out and she knew she had to go over.

She smiled as she walked over, trying to prepare herself to be near Dean again. He looked so damn good in that moment, and she was finding it hard to look at him.

“Thanks to your car, I know you already know each other, so I don’t have to introduce you” Charlie laughed, as she nudged Y/N with her hand.

“Yeah.” Dean took his sunglasses off and Y/N saw that he was looking directly at her. She was suddenly nervous again.

Dean took her in, dressed in a black dress that hugged her body in just the right way. Her red glasses were tucked into the neckline of her dress, and he had a sudden urge to see her wearing them. Mind outta the gutter, man he thought to himself as he looked away from her.

“I didn’t realize you guys were friends” she said, as she stood in front of Charlie and Dean.

Charlie smiled as she looked at Dean. “Yeah, have been for years.”

“Charlie’s like the little sister I never wanted” Dean teased, smiling cheekily at her. Charlie punched him in the arm, and he laughed.

His gaze moved from her back to Y/N. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since the first time he met her, but even more so after what happened at her house.

Charlie noticed how Dean and Y/N were looking at each other and dropped her head, smiling without them seeing.

“I better go” he said, suddenly, putting his sunglasses back on. “Lisa finished work early and we’re going to Sid and Olivia’s for dinner.”

“Tell them I said hi” Y/N told him, trying not frown as she wished he had stayed longer.

“Sure thing” he nodded. He moved in to hug Charlie, kissing her head.

Y/N watched as Dean got into the car and drove off, the car roaring down the road. She turned to Charlie and her face dropped into a frown, when she saw her friend grinning at her.

“What?”

“You like him” Charlie stated.

Y/N stared at her in shock, before scoffing a laugh. “You’re insane.”

“On the contrary, I’m completely sane” Charlie countered. “And you denied it a little too quickly, so it has to be true.”

“Charlie…” Y/N trailed off, not knowing how to respond to that.

“I think we need to get a drink together” Charlie suggested. “We haven’t gotten a chance to hang out outside of work yet.”

Y/N grinned. “Sounds great.”

“Tonight?” Charlie asked.

“Name a time and place, and I’m there” Y/N responded quickly. She was excited to go out and see what Lawrence was like on a Friday night. She knew it wouldn’t be much for a small town, but she also knew she needed to know how the nightlife was here.

“Ditch the rental at home and I’ll pick you up” Charlie said, as she started to walk away. “I’ll be there at 7!”

“See you soon!” Y/N called out as they both made their way back in to collect their belongings, before they headed home.

When she got home, Y/N relaxed for a while before she needed to get ready. She freshened up and got dressed into black ripped skinny jeans and a dark mustard sweater. She put on her black heeled ankle boots, ran a straightener through her hair quickly to get the kinks of the school day out and applied light make-up. She picked up her black leather jacket and her bag, just in time when she heard two quick honks of a car horn. She picked up her keys and walked out, closing the door behind her. She walked down the porch steps and smiled at Charlie as she walked over, getting into the car.

Y/N and Charlie made their way to the town square, lined with shops and some restaurants. Deciding they were hungry too; they grabbed a quick bite to eat. Conversation over at the diner mainly consisted of work and minor things, because Y/N had a feeling Charlie wanted to talk about personal things over drinks. After they ate, they walked down the street and past a couple of dive bars, the loud music and chatter filtering out to the streets. She felt better knowing there was something going on in this town and that it wasn’t as sleepy as a place like Rhinebeck. Though Rhinebeck did have its own charms.

Y/N followed Charlie, arriving at the place where they sat at the bar. She and Charlie sat on the bar stools, the bartender immediately coming over to them.

“What can I get you, ladies?” he asked, smiling at them.

“Gin and tonic, please” Charlie replied, smiling back.

Y/N thought it over for a second before she replied. “A vodka martini.”

“Sure thing” he muttered before moving down the bar to mix the drinks.

Y/N and Charlie both took their jackets off, settling in. The bartender put their respective drinks in front of them and then went to serve other customers. Charlie picked up her glass and turned to Y/N.

“To surviving your first two weeks” she said, smiling.

“Well, thanks for making it easy for me to settle in” Y/N smiled back, clinking her glass against hers. “I really mean it. You and Cas have really helped me and supported me, so… thank you.”

“No need to thank” Charlie waved her off, taking a sip of her drink. “So… let’s get to the real reason we’re here…”

“Oh god” Y/N groaned.

“Oh yeah” Charlie smirked. “You like Dean.”

Y/N laughed a little to herself. She didn’t beat around the bush, this one.

“Yeah. I do” Y/N admitted, feeling slightly relieved to say it out loud. “At first, I really just thought it was a crush, something that would just go away after a couple of days. Then… then the butterflies stuck around and they’re not going away. Every time I see him… I just want to be near him. All the time. I know two weeks is way too soon to be feeling like this about someone I just met, but-” she explained but Charlie shook her head, cutting in.

“I don’t think the length of time matters to Oxytocin” Charlie advised her.

“I’m not quite at the love stage yet. In fact, I hope I never get there because that’s going to get me into trouble” Y/N countered.

“Which is unfortunate because I think you two would be adorable together” Charlie confessed, a guilty grin on her face.

“What?” Y/N scoffed, not quite believing what she just heard.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… the way he was looking at you, even just for a few seconds, I haven’t seen him like that in a really long time” Charlie said, a sad smile on her face.

“Oh god” Y/N groaned, her face dropping into her hands. “Charlie, what are you doing to me?!”

“I know, I know” Charlie shook her head, not knowing what else to say.

“I can’t” Y/N shook her head, taking a large sip of her martini.

“I know, and I wasn’t telling you to go for it at all. I’m sorry” Charlie apologized, sipping her drink.

“It’s okay” Y/N reassured her, patting her back. Once they had both calmed down, Y/N turned to her friend. “Oh, they came over for dinner on Monday. I wanted to thank Dean about the car, and he came over with Lisa.”

“Really?” Charlie asked, a little shocked. “She actually came over?”

Y/N nodded. “Seemed like she didn’t want to be there, though. I mean, she was okay, she didn’t say much, which I don’t really care about, but she was kind of cold with Dean.”

Y/N looked at Charlie and saw that she looked like she wanted to say something but was contemplating whether she should or not.

“Okay, look…” Charlie started, trying to find her next words carefully. “I’m just going to tell you this, and it’s in no way saying that you have to do something, I just think you need to know, now that you’ve brought this up.”

“Okay…” Y/N didn’t know where she was going with this, but she listened anyway.

“Dean and Lisa have never been good for each other. They had a one-night thing, it was great for both of them, but that’s where it should’ve ended. Things were fine at the start, but once they got past the one-year mark, is when things started turning. Two years in, it got pretty bad. I mean, Dean doesn’t know for sure… but he thinks that she might’ve slept with someone else when she went home to visit her family. Things haven’t been right for a while now. Between not trusting her and them fighting at the drop of a hat all the time… it should’ve ended a year ago” Charlie explained.

“Wow” Y/N sighed, shaking her head.

“The only time we see him happy is when he’s at work or when he’s with us and she’s not around. Hell, I don’t particularly think she likes any of us, and we’ve tried really hard to include her. She never really wanted to do anything with us and would only come out with Dean if she wanted to prove things were okay. After a while, we just stopped trying to get her to like us” Charlie went on.

Y/N couldn’t imagine anyone not liking Charlie or Cas. “Seriously?”

Charlie nodded, a glint of anger behind her eyes. “She’s never encouraged him with the business, she’s always put him down for his choice in friends. She claims it’s to make him see that he’s better than them, but she’s just forcing him to think things he never would.”

There was a long silence between them, as Y/N processed everything Charlie just told her. She and Charlie were only just starting to become friends, so she could’ve easily said she didn’t believe her. She did, though. Charlie looked genuinely hurt, which meant everything was true.

“Fuck” Y/N whispered.

“Yeah” Charlie said, raising her eyebrows. “Dean’s generally a happy, care-free guy but for over a year now, I know he’s been hurting. He just hides it behind his larger than life personality. I just want to see him as his old self again. He thinks that if he stays, maybe things will just fix themselves, but they won’t. They haven’t yet and they certainly won’t the longer he stays in this relationship.”

“Wow” Y/N sighed again.

“So, that’s all I want to say” Charlie finished. “I’m not saying you have to do anything about it, but I want you know the reality, and maybe not hate yourself so much for having the thoughts you’ve been having.”

Y/N nodded. Hearing it made her feel slightly better, but worse now that she knew what he was going through.

Another silence fell between them as Y/N thought about everything Charlie said.

“It scares me” Y/N looked down into her glass, shaking her head. “Feeling something so quickly for someone I just met. I’ve never felt a connection like this before. Not even with Ethan.”

“Ethan?” Charlie asked, confusion written on her face.

Y/N bit her lip. She didn’t realize she had never mentioned him to Charlie. “My ex.”

Charlie nodded slowly, immediately understanding. “I’m guessing things didn’t end well if you’re so far away from New York.”

“No, they did not” Y/N muttered after a sip of her drink. “He uh… he was really controlling of me. He’d tell me how I shouldn’t dress up and be too revealing, but then somehow… somehow, he’d tell me that I didn’t try hard enough either, that I wasn’t attractive enough. My job wasn’t good enough. I… I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t… I didn’t think it was something that was a problem, no matter how much anyone told me it was. I thought he’d… he’d say the things he did because he just wanted me to be better, but it was to stroke his own ego.”

“Scumbag” Charlie muttered; her face morphed into anger.

“Yeah” Y/N laughed, bitterly. “I couldn’t see it until the night he hurt me. I thought he was doing those things because he loved me, but love isn’t making a person hate themselves to make yourself feel better.”

“You said he hurt you…” Charlie trailed off, worried that she’d uncover feelings that Y/N had buried.

“Just once, he pushed me and I ended up in hospital with a concussion” Y/N said, her words choking around the lump in her throat. “Once I was better, my parents helped me get my things out of his apartment. It wasn’t an easy transition; I kept seeing him everywhere. I tried to get a restraining order against him, but his family had money and probably paid someone off, so he never got charged with one. He eventually left with his new girlfriend, but that didn’t mean it got better for me. It took some time, a year of therapy before I left, but I realized that I wasn’t going to let anyone do that to me ever again. That place… I didn’t want to leave my family but there was too much of him there. So… now I’m here.”

“I’m glad you are. Y/N, you’re… shit, you’re fucking amazing and I hate that someone made you feel like you’re not” Charlie said, quietly, her eyes watery.

“I really know how to tell a story, huh?” Y/N jested, trying to lighten the mood again, as she blinked to keep her tears from falling.

“I’m glad you told me, that you could trust me with that” Charlie said, a small, empathetic smile playing at her lips.

“I’m sorry” Y/N shook her head, feeling awful at her sudden confession of her past. “I shouldn’t have brought it up when we’re here to have a good time.”

Charlie took her hand in hers. “No, please don’t apologize. I really am glad that you did. I’m so glad I know you.”

Y/N smiled at her. She knew Charlie would hear the story and wouldn’t pity her but be there for her and listen. She held Charlie’s hand, squeezing it. She was glad to have met the woman sitting in front of her.

“You know… Dean would never do that to you, right? To anyone” Charlie told her.

Y/N nodded, closing her eyes. “I know. I don’t know how I know, but I just see him, and I know that he’d never do that.”

“And that’s what scares you, right? That he’d never do that, that you feel so much and that he’s with someone else?” Charlie asked.

Y/N looked at her and didn’t say anything. Her face said it all. Charlie just nodded, before taking the last sip of her drink.

“I need another drink” Y/N said with a small chuckle, having finished her martini.

Charlie just smiled as she flagged down the bartender.

Another drink turned into two more after that. Y/N understood what Charlie said clearly, but that didn’t mean she was going to take the words and run with them. Why risk everything on what could just be a crush? She was wrong, 2 weeks was absolutely a ridiculous amount of time to suddenly fall for someone. She was overthinking things.

She was thankful when Charlie dropped the subject of Dean, having said what she needed to about how she felt towards Lisa, knowing Y/N would interpret everything the way she needed to. She also felt a huge pressure lift off her chest when she told Charlie about what happened with Ethan. It had been a year since the break-up and since she had started therapy. Her last session before she left had left her feeling relieved. Coming to Lawrence had been the best decision, even with her situation with Dean. Charlie was amazing and was glad she spoke up and told someone who she really trusted.

They eventually moved onto talking Charlie and Dorothy and Y/N found the redhead incredibly cute in that moment, as she gushed about her girlfriend.

Y/N knew that once the fourth martini went down, she had to get home. She was well and truly drunk and all she wanted to do was sleep it off. Just forget them ever talking about Dean.

As they left the bar, she stumbled slightly as they walked down the road. She needed to get an Uber and be alone in her thoughts now, her mind reeling with their conversation but vodka, too.

“Are you sure I can’t take you home?” Charlie asked, concern all over her face.

Y/N chuckled as she shook her head. “I’m sure, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay” Charlie agreed, reluctantly. “Message me as soon as you get home.”

An Uber quickly pulled up a few moments after she called it, and Y/N got in. She smiled and waved at Charlie. “Thanks for tonight.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you Monday” Charlie smiled.

Y/N leaned back against the seat, looking out the window. She really didn’t need man drama while she settled into a new town. She had had enough of it back home in her previous relationship, that one almost ruining her mental state. She was still recovering, even if had been a year since they broke up. Memories of him and imagining him around town, even after he left, were what made her decide to leave too. The last thing she needed was to be with someone. That being said, someone could argue with her that it was time to move on and find something better, something more meaningful.

Well, that something would have to come from somewhere else because it sure as hell wasn’t going to come from Dean. As much as she was attracted to him, he was with someone. No matter how unhappy the relationship was. Her mind floated to something Charlie told her. That it was possible that Lisa cheated on Dean.

He was sweet and caring, nurturing and compassionate. Gorgeous as hell and insanely hilarious. Who could ever cheat on him? People had their flaws, but that didn’t mean you give up on a person. His flaws couldn’t be as bad as her ex’s.

The Uber pulled up outside her house. Y/N steadied herself as much as she could as she got out. The car pulling up caught the attention of Dean, however, as he was sitting on the front porch, beer in hand. He watched as Y/N stumbled up the stairs of her porch and tried to open the door to her house.

Dean put his beer down on the stoop and got up from the stairs, walking across the street. As he walked up her porch stairs, Y/N turned around and smiled at him, indicating to Dean that she was quite drunk.

“Dean” she slurred happily, her eyes sparkling.

He tried not to laugh as he walked over to her. “Doing okay there, sweetheart?”

“Sure am” she giggled in her drunken state. “Just trying to get my door open.”

Dean watched as she tried to put the key in but kept missing the keyhole. He stepped forward and took the key from her hand, putting it into the lock and opening the door with ease.

“Thanks” she beamed.

As she went to walk through the threshold, her foot caught the edge and she stumbled. With quick reflexes, Dean caught her arm and pulled her into his body.

“Whoa, Y/N” he exclaimed, cradling her to his body.

She let out a loud cackling laugh, completely unaware of her near injury. Knowing that this wasn’t going to end well if she kept at it by herself, Dean bent down and lifted her legs up as he cradled her body. He lifted her into his arms as he carried her into the house, trying not to dwell on how good she felt in his arms.

“Ooh” she gasped, as her arms wrapped around his neck. “You’re very strong, Dean.”

She couldn’t help but lean her head on his shoulder, the intoxicating scent of cologne driving her crazy.

He ignored that as he walked down the hallway and into her bedroom.

Dean gulped as he looked around, the realization that he shouldn’t be standing in her bedroom hitting him suddenly. He quickly walked to the bed and laid her down, watching her eyes flutter as the alcohol she had consumed took control.

“Have to… have to text Charlie” she mumbled, the alcohol making her sleepy.

Ah, so that’s who she went out with he thought as he took off her shoes and pulled the covers over her.

He picked up her bag and fished around quickly, finding her phone. He didn’t look in, knowing that a woman’s handbag had things in there he had no business seeing.

Y/N unlocked her phone and handed it to him, flinging her head back to her pillow.

Dean bit back a laugh as he messaged Charlie as Y/N.

Hey, made it home safe. Thanks for tonight.

He added that in because if she was this drunk, then clearly she had a great time with his friend. Who wouldn’t?

Dean placed her phone on the nightstand and was about to walk away when he heard her stir.

“You’re really sweet, Dean” she mumbled, only one eye looking up at him as her face was smooshed to her pillow. “Why can’t all guys be like you?”

Dean shook his head. She was really out of it. “I wouldn’t say that, Y/N. I’m not someone to be compared to.”

“I think you are” she said, a soft smile on her face. “I think you’re something special, Dean Winchester.”

A smile spread on his face, but it dropped quickly. She wouldn’t remember saying it in the morning, so it was best not to dwell on it.

“Goodnight, Y/N” he whispered.

“I could get used to you in my life” she whispered, as she drifted off into slumber.

Dean felt a pang in his heart at her words. She may have been drunk, but it had been a while since someone had something like that to him. He couldn’t let her words affect him like that, though. He was with someone else and he needed to make that work again.

Dean slowly walked out of her room and back down the hall. He took out his wallet and took out the Advil tablets he kept in there, leaving them by her coffee machine. He picked up a napkin and quickly scribbled a note on it, before leaving her house. Hopefully she wouldn’t remember all of that in the morning and they could avoid the awkwardness that would follow.

The sunlight from the windows streamed into Y/N’s room. It warmed the covers she was wrapped in, causing her to stir. She groaned as she lifted her head, feeling the heaviness of last night’s drinking session with Charlie. She sat in bed as she tried to recall what happened last night. Her eyes widened as she remembered, everything quickly rushing to her head.

Dean had helped her into the house. Dean had most likely helped her into bed. Dean had been in her bedroom.

She couldn’t remember if any words had been exchanged. Had she said anything that would cause her embarrassment?

Y/N slowly got out of bed and picked up her robe, wrapping it around herself. She picked up her phone and walked out of her bedroom, into the kitchen, as she needed coffee as soon as humanly possible. She looked at the time. It was 10 in the morning. She had really been knocked out last night. She walked over to her coffee machine and was about to start filling it, when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

A slip of Advil tablets and a note laid next to the machine. She smiled as she picked up the note, scribbled in all-caps.

HOPE YOUR HEAD DOESN’T HATE YOU TOO MUCH IN THE MORNING.

-D

Her stomach flipped as she bit her lip, reading over the note again. She liked his handwriting. It said so much about him.

She quickly took the Advil before she made her coffee and breakfast, two eggs and a little bacon. You had to have bacon on a Saturday morning, especially if you were hungover. That’s what she felt.

The rest of her afternoon consisted of paying bills and doing some work for her classes, once her head was feeling slightly better. She made a mental note to actually go see a movie next week with Charlie. Maybe they could invite Cas’s girlfriend along, as she was dying to meet Meg. After doing her work for the day, she decided to do a little baking. Saturday afternoon baking was something she did often back home, and she wanted to keep that going here in her new house.

Y/N decided on making an apple pie, one of her favorites. As she got all the ingredients together, she decided to make two, wanting to take one over to Dean as a thank you for helping her last night. Hopefully he liked pie. She turned on one of her softer playlists, as cooking or baking needed some kind of music in the background and something soft was good for her head right now.

An hour later as The Lone Bellow graced her ears, she took out two beautifully golden pies from the oven. She put them on the kitchen bench and went to shower, having still been in the same clothes from last night.

Once she was freshened up, she walked out in dark blue skinny jeans, a white tank top and a pink and white plaid shirt over the top. She took a red and white checked cloth and wrapped it around one of the pies, making sure it stayed warm as she walked over. Slipping her phone into her back pocket, she shrugged on a light jacket to shield her from the light breeze. It was starting to get colder and she wondered what winter would be like here.

Y/N left her house and walked over to Dean and Lisa’s, pie in hand. She was a little nervous and hoped that Lisa wouldn’t be there, so that she could talk to Dean alone. She was slightly ashamed of herself; he was technically a parent of a child she was teaching, and he saw her drunk. She really hated herself for it and hoped that they could talk and come to an understanding.

She quickly walked up the porch steps and rang their doorbell. She waited patiently for a few seconds, before she rang the bell again. Again, she didn’t hear anyone coming for the door. Even the Impala wasn’t in the driveway. They had probably gone out as a family. As she walked back down the porch steps, she heard some music and clinking sounds coming from the back of the house. Wondering if maybe Dean was at home, she walked around the corner to their backyard, the sounds of Metallica’s Wherever I May Roam becoming louder as she got closer. The sight that greeted her caused her eyes to widen and her heart to beat wildly in her chest.

Dean was leaning over the engine of his car with the hood open. He was wearing blue jeans that hung on his hips in the most perfect way, highlighting his cute butt. His dark grey t-shirt defined his physique, the material stretching across his chest and biceps. His arms and face were covered in grease from the car, but that only added to the hotness he was showing at that point. When he turned around and noticed her, he smirked which just killed her dead on the spot.

“Hey, I didn’t hear ya coming out here” he said, walking over to her, turning the music down a little as he walked past his little radio.

She blinked a few times, trying to get out of the trance he put her in. “I rang the bell a few times but then I heard you out here.”

He nodded as he jerked his head towards the car. “Yeah, I gotta work on her from time to time, make sure she’s still runnin’ properly.”

“Well, she’s gorgeous. I wouldn’t want her to fade away either, if I was you” she smiled.

He smirked as he looked at his priced possession. “Dad would tear me a new one if I ever did.”

She laughed a little before a silence fell between them, only the sounds of the song being heard.

And the road becomes my bride And the road becomes my bride I have stripped of all but pride So in her I do confide And she keeps me satisfied Gives me all I need And with dust in throat I crave Only knowledge will I save To the game you stay a slave

Now was as good a time as to bring up what she needed to.

“Dean, I just wanted to say thank you for helping me last night” she started but he waved her off.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart” he smiled.

He really had to stop calling her that if she was ever going to get anywhere with this. If only he knew what that did to her.

“I know it might’ve felt like just a nice gesture, and it was, but… Dean, I’m really ashamed and I really, really hope you don’t see me differently now” she confessed.

Dean frowned, not sure what she meant. “Why would I do that?”

“It’s just that… I’m a teacher, and I’m supposed to be a certain way. You’re practically a parent to a child in my class, and you shouldn’t be seeing me like that, like how I was last night-” she rambled but the feel of his hands on her shoulders stopped her.

“Y/N, it’s really okay. I’d never tell anyone about that. I mean, shit. You gotta let loose once and a while, too. Maybe someone else would judge you for that, but I never would” he told her, his voice calming her.

“But-” Dean shook his head when she protested.

“Honestly, Y/N. It’s fine. That’s just between you and me. Okay?” he reassured her.

She sighed in relief. “Okay.”

“Good” he winked at her.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked down, trying not to think about that wink.

“It’s just… I didn’t say anything stupid to you, did I? If I did, I’m so sorry” she apologized.

Dean remembered everything she said last night. It had kept him up for an hour and a half as her words circled around in his thoughts.

“Nope” he lied. “Though you did mutter something about finding Christopher Walken sexy.”

Y/N eyes widened. “What?!”

Dean guffawed loudly, shaking his head. “Oh my god, you should see your face.”

She reached up and smacked his arm, causing a small “ah” to leave his lips but he kept on laughing, as he rubbed his arm.

“You’re such an ass” she shook her head, trying not to smile at the sound of his laugh.

His laughter died down as he composed himself. “That was too easy.”

“I don’t think you deserve this pie now” she gestured to the wrapped-up dish in her hands.

His eyes lit up as he looked between her and what was in her hand. “Pie? You-you made me a pie?”

“Yeah, I did, as a thank you for last night but I don’t think I want to give it to you now” she pretended to be upset, riling him up.

“Y/N…” he said, looking her right in the eyes. “Please.”

Jesus. She was putty in his hands. This wasn’t good. She couldn’t do this with him. In that moment, all she could do was hand over the pie with a polite smile. She couldn’t let him think that she was wanted to keep going on this banter of theirs. That was dangerous and she wouldn’t be that person.

She quickly handed it over. “Since you asked so nice.”

His eyes and smile grew brighter, as he giddily lifted one corner of the cloth and smelt the cinnamon and apple.

His eyes rolled back as he moaned lightly. “Damn, that smells amazing. Thanks, Y/N. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome” she said, laughing slightly at his reaction. “I take it you like pie.”

“Like?” he scoffed. “More like obsessed.”

“Good to know” she giggled as she watched him take another whiff. “I better go.”

“Oh, before I forget. Your car should be ready on Wednesday” he told her.

She smiled with a sigh of relief. “Amazing, thank you.”

“So, I’ll see you at the shop on Wednesday” he said, his thumbs rubbing over the cloth around the pie. He was itching to dig into it.

“Yeah” she nodded. “Bye, Dean.”

“Bye. Thanks again” he lifted the pie as he thanked her.

Y/N smiled as she walked away, rounding the corner and disappearing.

As soon as she was gone, Dean walked into the house and put the pie on the kitchen counter. He washed his hands and wiped them down, his mouth salivating as the delicious scent of the pie wafted through the kitchen. He opened a drawer and took out a fork, unfolding the cloth from around the pie dish. He licked his lips he looked down at it, stabbing his fork in and digging up a big bite. He blew on it and shoved it into his mouth. The flavors exploded as he closed his eyes in delight.

“Fuck, that’s good” he mumbled to himself as he swallowed down the mouthful.

It had to be the best pie he had ever had, not including his mother’s because that wasn’t a fair fight. Did Y/N really have to be so perfect that she made an amazing pie, too? How the hell was he supposed to stay away from her if she did things like this?

You just have to he thought as he wrapped the pie up again, for later. You can’t keep doing what you’re doing with her.

If this was ever going to remain friendly, then he had to stop turning on the charm, even if that was second nature to him. She made everything so easy. Things hadn’t been easy for him in a long time.

Between what she said in her drunken state to him (she may have been drunk, but she still said it. So, it had to be true, right?) and now bringing him this pie, it was getting harder to resist her. He knew was starting to feel something for her, even if it had only been a couple of weeks. He hadn’t felt like this since the first time he was with Lisa. Once they actually got together, the spark fizzled out quite quickly as comfortability took over. Now, even that wasn’t there.

Maybe it’s only meant to be comfortable. Maybe the spark isn’t meant to stay as you get comfortable with your partner. Though, that didn’t seem right to him. If you were really in love, then wouldn’t the spark stick around?

He had never been more confused about what to do, but he knew what the right thing was. It was to stick it out with Lisa, and that’s what he needed to do.

No matter how much he thought about Y/N.

As Y/N walked towards her house, her smiled dropped. What happened back there wasn’t just a friendly neighborhood chat. That was more. Much more. That was something two people did when they’re getting to know each other as more than friends. That was banter and flirting and messing around with each other with silly jokes. There were looks that made her tingle all over, and polite words that comforted her.

He made everything so easy. What she was beginning to feel for him was so much more than what she had felt before. This feeling wasn’t even there the first time she met Ethan. She knew she was fooling herself when she said this was just a little crush.

As she entered her house, Y/N was determined.

Dean Winchester was not going to have an effect on her.

He just wasn’t.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva​ @deanwanddamons​ @winchest09​ @katehuntington​ @akshi8278​ @hobby27​ @michellethetvaddict​ @spngirl05​ @kyjey​ @halesandy​ @440mxs-wife​ @stoneyggirl​ @deanswaywardgirl​ @wonder-cole​ @that-one-gay-girl​ @redbarn1995​ @marianita195​ @babypink224221​ @deans-baby-momma​ @parinarain​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mandalou29​ @castiels-a-winchester​ @perpetualabsurdity​

[thelittlestcheshire]

even if you have to cry, don't let your crown fall

a love letter to luxor’s ches elswood

Well, it’s finally time that I feel ready to post this, and while I’m aware it may be bittersweet with my upcoming departure, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Today I present to you a three hour Ches playlist, divided into sections and covering her entire time at Luxor, from when I first picked her up in June of 2019 all the way to now. There’s quite a few plot references, and small (and not as small) references to other muses throughout, especially when it comes to Elliot, so keep an eye out for those as well!

I’d like to thank Lex for giving me the idea to make these, and her support throughout the process because without her, these playlists wouldn’t even exist. And thank you to everyone who has gone on this journey with us, while I’m sorry I need to dip out early after this event to focus on my health, I love y’all so much.

The standard Ches tws apply (poor mental health, alcoholism, etc etc), and anything I think may be a bit abnormal / section exclusive is noted on the sections.

twist me like a key, then you open the lock | pre-luxor:

the section of time before I played Ches at Luxor, very James heavy. additional tws: Death (Sign of the Times), Toxic relationships (nothing explicit tho)

Sign of the Times (Jasmine Thompson) [ Remember everything will be alright. We can meet again somewhere, somewhere far away from here. ] // Sweet Ophelia (Zella Day) [ Singing like it's a full moon, careless now that he has you. Turns you on to the right songs, promises that you're hooked on. ] // Couple of Kids (Maggie Lindemann) [ Now I'm fallin' heavily, recklessly, trying not to lose my sensibility; but gravity, it pulls me into you. ] // Glowstick (Sofia Karlberg) [ You play me like a line-up; long con, you make me wise up. ] // Crying in the Club (Camila Cabello) [ Ain't no crying in the club, hey, hey, let the beat carry away, your tears as they fall, baby. Ain't no crying in the club, hey, hey, with a little faith, your tears turn to ecstasy. ] // Ember (Katherine McNamara) [ Reignite; you lost your grip on me, and now I blaze wild and free. ]

nobody shows up unless i'm paying, have a drink on me cheers to the failing | summer & fall 2019:

the first time I was at Luxor playing ches, from June - October 2019

7 rings (Ariana Grande) [ Been through some bad shit, I should be a sad bitch. Who woulda thought it'd turn me to a savage? ] // I'm a Mess (Bebe Rexha) [ “It's gonna be a good, good life;” that's what my therapists say. ] // OMG (Little Mix) [ Oh my gosh, I did it again. He said I broke his heart, it keeps happening. ] // Only Angel (Harry Styles) [ Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short, but I think that's what I like about it. ] // LA Devotee (Panic! At The Disco) [ Drinking white wine in the blushing light, just another LA Devotee. ] // Woman Like Me (Little Mix feat. Nicki Minaj) [ I made a few mistakes, I regret it nightly. I broke a couple hearts that I wear on my sleeve. ]

all of this emptiness i've been sharing, it never comes when i want it to | winter 2019:

the period of time Ches went home to be with her family and was away from luxor additional tws: vomiting (Habits (Stay High))

Carmen (Lana Del Rey) [ Darlin’, darlin’, doesn't have a problem lyin’ to herself ‘cause her liquor’s top shelf ] // How You Remind Me (Avril Lavigne) [ And I've been wrong, I've been down, been to the bottom of every bottle. These five words in my head scream, "Are we havin' fun yet?" ] // Playing God (Paramore) [ This is the last second chance (I'll point you to the mirror). I'm half as good as it gets (I'll point you to the mirror). I'm on both sides of the fence (I'll point you to the mirror). Without a hint of regret, I'll hold you to it ] // Habits {Stay High} (Tove Lo) [ Staying in my play pretend, where the fun ain't got no end. Oh, can't go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain. ] // Bedroom Window (The Pretty Reckless) [ As I look out of my bedroom window; is it all real or just fantasy? I have lost touch with what makes me human, I have lost touch with reality. ] // Impossible Year (Panic! At The Disco) [ There's no sunshine, this impossible year; only black days and sky grey and clouds full of fear. ]

i wouldn't say you got the best of me, i'd say you got me somewhere in between | spring 2020:

Ches’s return to Luxor, and the months following leading up to her mass text about Leo’s dad following the Lake Bash

3 O'Clock Things (AJR) [ Would you go running if you saw the real me? Maybe you'd love 'em, yeah, maybe you'd feel me. ] // Wild Heart (Bleachers) [ Well, everything has changed and now I can't tell what matters. I will find any way to your wild heart. ] // Rise (Katy Perry) [ When the fire's at my feet again and the vultures all start circling. They're whispering, “you're out of time.” But still, I rise. ] // Don't Stop Me Now (Queen) [ I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars on a collision course. I am a satellite, I'm out of control. ] // Princesses Don't Cry (CARYS) [ Girls, so pretty and poised and soft to the touch, but God made me rough. Girls, so heavy the crown, they carry it tall, but it's weighing me down. ] // Save Rock And Roll (Fall Out Boy feat. Elton John) [ You are what you love, not who loves you. In a world full of the word 'yes', I'm here to scream... no, no (no, no). ] // Making a Monster out of Me (Katherine McNamara) [ And I don't know how to recollect the morals that I always did possess. Don't know where its leading me. ] // We Don't Have To Dance (Andy Black) [ You're never gonna get it, I'm a hazard to myself. I'll break it to you easy. This is hell, this is hell. ]

tonight it's alright, i can see the tunnel at the end of these lights | summer 2020:

summer camp and the months leading up to a new school year

Night Owls Early Birds (Foxes) [ A wild fire inside me burns. Why do I look like I'm wear for worse? Save me, save me, go underneath the ground. ] // Too Much (Carly Rae Jepsen) [ When I party, then I party too much. When I feel it, then I feel it too much. When I'm thinking, then I'm thinking too much. When I'm drinking, then I'm drinking too much. ] // Royal Blue (Alberto Rosende) [ My regrets are a shade around my neck I know. It's torturous, and there's a burden that I can't let go. ] // Who You Selling For (The Pretty Reckless) [ And when Roger showed me I was building a wall. I've been waiting a long time, waiting a long time, waiting a long time, waiting for it to fall. ] // Heavy (Linkin Park feat. Kiiara) [ You say that I'm paranoid, but I’m pretty sure the world is out to get me. It’s not like I make the choice to let my mind stay so fucking messy. ] // The Archer (Taylor Swift) [ I've been the archer, I've been the prey; screaming, “who could ever leave me,” darling. But who could stay? ] // Everybody Lost Somebody (Bleachers) [ And there's a reason I wake up alone in strange places, a reason I see myself in a million faces, a reason I can't stop it all from changing. So come on, motherfucker, you survive, you gotta give yourself a break. ]

no cameras catch my muffled cries. i counted days, i counted miles | fall and winter 2020(/21):

a new school year, from the start of the semester right until the aftermath of the kings’ party

So It Goes (Guards) [ I don't know who I am but I do know who I'm not. I'm just looking for a friend, I'm still searching for the plot. ] // Wasabi (Little Mix) [ Love to hate me, praise me, shame me; either way, you talk about me. ] // Think Before I Talk (Astrid S) [ Maybe I should think before I talk; I get emotional and words come out all wrong. Sometimes I'm more honest than I want. ] // Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince (Taylor Swift) [ No cameras catch my muffled cries. I counted days, I counted miles to see you there, to see you there. And now the storm is coming, but... ] // Sober Up (AJR feat. Rivers Cuomo) [ Won't you help me sober up? Growin' up, it made me numb, and I wanna feel somethin' again. ] // The Show Must Go On (Queen) [ Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on. Does anybody know what we are looking for? ] // Waiting For A Friend (The Pretty Reckless) [ My head is like a prison cell, I'm all by myself. I'm waiting for my friend to come and break me out. ] // Sober (Demi Lovato) [ I'm sorry that I'm here again, I promise I'll get help. It wasn't my intention, I'm sorry to myself. ] // Eight (Sleeping At Last) [ I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut, and bury my innocence. But here's a map, here's a shovel, here's my Achilles' heel. ]

i got this handled, i don't need rescuing | spring and early summer 2021:

ches’s progress from the end of march until now

The Man (Taylor Swift) [ I’m so sick of running as fast as I can, wondering if I'd get there quicker if I was a man. And I'm so sick of them coming at me again, 'cause if I was a man, then I'd be the man. ] // Princess (FLETCHER) [ But we're all going through it, so why do we do it? Why do we hide? ] // Humpty Dumpty (AJR) [ If I can't breathe, then you can't see, but aren't you excited that I'm giving you the best me? ] // My Mistake (Gabrielle Aplin) [ Am I jaded? Am I meant to feel this way?  I'm a loser, getting beat by my own game. But if I falter, well, at least it was my mistake. ] // The Climb (Miley Cyrus) [ The struggles I'm facing, the chances I'm taking; sometimes might knock me down, but no, I'm not breaking. ] // breathin (Ariana Grande) [ Some days, things just take way too much of my energy. I look up and the whole room's spinning. You take my cares away. ] // Clean (Taylor Swift) [ Ten months sober, I must admit just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it. Ten months older, I won't give in, now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it. ] // Not a Pop Song (Little Mix) [ A hamster on a wheel that's how it feels tryna be real. These unrealistic expectations said we'll make it if we fake it. ] // Queen (Loren Gray) [ Eyes on me like I'm a prize but you better recognize I'm not your angel 'cause I belong to me. ] // The Cure (Little Mix) [ This happiness was always inside me but Lord, it took a minute to find me. ]

[lukneetoonz]

From Across The Room

——————————————————————————-

Summary: Shinsou spots you from across the room, and suddenly there’s nothing else he wants more in the world.

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x Female Reader

Warnings: Drinking (be responsible pls), mentions of uncomfortable touching situations,

Word Count: 1,698

A/N: This is a special for getting to 100 followers!! Loosely based on the song ‘Dance, Baby!’ By Boy Pablo, ‘Strangers in The Night’ by Frank Sinatra, and ‘Beautiful’ by Bazzi. Tbh at this point I should just make a playlist so you guys could have some bangers. But in all seriousness, thank you all for the love and support lately, it’s meant a lot. I can’t even begin to tell you how much it’s meant. I love you all 🥺👉👈

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

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Shinsou Hitoshi was not a partier. If it was up to him, he’d be home playing video games, eating chips and drinking a bang energy until he could hear the birds chirp beyond his black out curtains. But here he was, sitting on a couch next to his blonde friend that was practically having sex with a random girl he met with horrible music playing in the background. Drink in hand, Shinsou looked up at the makeshift dance floor only to have his breath taken away by a girl he could swear was an angel on this god forsaken earth. You were dancing with some of your friends, smiling as you tried to sing along to the song the best you could.

As you were blissfully unaware of the lilac colored eyes watching your form in fondness, a man approached you from behind and gripped onto your hips and pulled you into him to dance, the action making Shinsou scowl. What was he thinking? Of course a beautiful girl like you would have many others pining after you, he’s sure you wouldn’t even look in direction. Hell, the only reason people know his name is because he’s friends with Kaminari and Midoryia, and not by choice. Ever since becoming a pro-hero, he decided to take Aizawa’s route and go underground because he could care less about fame and attention, he just cared about helping people.

Shinsou was lost in his thoughts; he didn’t even notice your own look of discomfort as you tried to nudge the guy away unsuccessfully. The indigo haired man only noticed when he heard your soft voice speak up, even if it should have gone unnoticed with the background noise, he noticed. “Let go of me.” Was all you had to say for the young pro hero to stand up and be by your side in an instant. Towering over both you and the Male he raised an eyebrow, “Why are you still here if she said to let go?” His deep voice got your attention and you couldn’t believe your long time crush came to your rescue.

You had gone to UA, but you were in the support course and you still did support hero work, in fact you worked with Kirishima. Kirishima would actually have you help the other pro hero’s a lot too since your quirk came in handy a lot of times; you were able to see anything damaged or weakened just by looking at it. So you could easily tell a person's injuries or see what’s wrong with their costume and fix it faster than anyone. Because of this, you had known Kaminari quite well, since he was a little clumsy sometimes and he needed help to figure out what was wrong with his gadgets and you never hesitated to help, because sometimes shinsou would be there and you’d sneak a peak at him.

That’s why when he was towering over you with such an intimidating look, your whole body froze. Heat rushing to (S/C) cheeks as you couldn’t even force yourself to look away. After years of pining he actually noticed your presence? Shaking your emotions off you focus on the situation before you, subconsciously moving closer to the purple eyed boy. “Man you know how crazy bitches can be! She was grinding on me and then just got all weird, Cmon just walk away and we both avoid trouble” the man's words make you want to vomit as you looked at Shinsou with terrified eyes, which merely confirmed to him what he was already thinking.

Nodding he sighed before grabbing your waist and pulling you away fully from the man and anyone who truly knew Shinsou would say he was practically seething with anger, even if he came off calm and collected. “I’ll only say this one time, ‘man’, so listen good. If I ever catch you touching a woman when she doesn’t want it, I’ll personally break both of your hands in ways you never knew. Now, turn around and go home before I second guess my decision on letting you go.” The man didn’t even reply and just mutely listened to Shinsou so you only assumed there were quirks involved.

Turning, you moved to fully face Shinsou and smiled shyly, avoiding his gaze. “Thank you… Uh for helping me…” A lazy smirk found itself on Shinsou’s face as he shrugged, hand still on your waist. “It was nothing, I see a beautiful woman in danger and I help, it’s what I do.” (E/C) eyes flew up to meet his as your face heated up, “Wh- beautiful? Did you, Shinsou Hitoshi, call me beautiful?” Your knowledge of him seemed to shock him as he raised his eyebrows at you and tilted his head, “You know who I am?” Pulling your lip in between your teeth, you nodded shyly, not even being able to find the right words to answer him.

Shinsou himself gulped as he stared at you, not liking how his eyes drifted to your lips. The beating of his heart was loud in his ears as he thought about how you knew him, yet you still didn’t shy away from his touch. With a quirk that’s been called villainous, Shinsou has been judged most of his life. It didn’t help with his personality being cocky and seemingly self centered, so when you smiled at him while saying his name, it’s like he was housing a butterfly garden in his stomach. “I-I went to UA too… except I was in the support course… but I always admired your determination to be a hero. It’s very reputable.”

Okay now he was just gonna slap himself. You went to UA? How could he have not noticed you!? Yet you noticed him, not only did you notice him but you admired him! A blush spread across his pale skin, as his focus was on you and only you. “What’s your name? I mean, it’s only fair since you know mine” Now your heart beat was rapid as you played with your clothing. “You can call me Y/N…” Y/N… what a beautiful name, and it fit you so well. Replaying it over in his head, he chuckled a little before saying it out loud. “Y/N… I like it.”

If you died in that second, you wouldn’t care. Shinsou Hitoshi, likes your name. Oh god you’re going back to your highschool ways… although highschool you would have probably fainted already or ran away screaming. “I like you too- wait no- I mean I like it too. Not you too!” Shit, you were so weird. He’s gonna hate you and talk about you to Kaminari who’s gonna tell everyone- “Man, and here I wanted to take you out. But I only take out the ones who like me” he smirked smugly, making you choke on air. “Really?” Shinsou chuckled, nodding his head as he traced your jawline with his finger. “Really really.”

“Then boy do I like you , I've liked you since highschool!” Maybe that was too much information, but you wanted- no needed that date. Shinsou smiled softly and blushed, grabbing his phone and opening contacts handing you the device, “Well, I'm gonna need your number then” nodding, you grabbed his phone and put in your information, gulping as you couldn’t believe this was happening. “Y/N C'mon you’re our DD!!” Damn your friends for ruining your moment. Damn them to the seven circles of hell. Honestly, you debated on acting like you didn’t know them but they came and draped themselves onto you, making Shinsou chuckle. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

*•*

After having to take care of your drunk friends you finally walked into your own place and sighed happily, going and changing into pajamas. As you flopped into your bed, your phone buzzed and you saw an unknown number had texted you and you pulled it up, furrowing your eyebrows as you forgot everything that happened.

Shinsou: ‘Hey, it’s Shinsou :)’

Oh my god. He texted you. He actually wants to know you. Before you could even respond you noticed that he texted you basically right after you left the party, which was hours ago. You ruined everything, he must hate you. How could you have not noticed that he texted? Dragging you out of your thoughts was the buzz of your phone, looking down you saw the miracle of a double text.

Shinsou: ‘I hope this isn’t too weird, but did you get home okay?’

He’s so sweet you might just die. Smiling softly, you let your thumbs move as you typed a response back to the handsome pro hero. You saved his name to a new contact, chuckling at the name as you were unaware of the name he had made yours.

You: ‘I’m so sorry! I didn’t see your text! But yes, I just got home! I had to take care of those toddlers I call friends XD’

On the other side of the phone, the indigo haired boy took a breath of relief seeing you were okay because ‘Angel’ responded to his texts, and didn’t block him for double texting. Shinsou Hitoshi was happy for the first time in a while, hoping that he would be able to keep your presence in his life for a long time to come.

[neowinestainedress]

↬  title: the devil’s in the details, but you got a friend in me  ↬  pairing: lee taeyong / kim doyoung  ↬  summary: when Taeyong's world falls apart right before his eyes, he realizes that staying with him means that clouds will always hang around them. And he wonders if what he has to offer will be enough to make Doyoung stay, even if he will never be able to give him peace. ↬  genre: idol!taeyong (but not nct!taeyong, soloist!taeyong), song inspired - peace by taylor swift, angst (not really, doesn’t concern the couple, tho), hurt/comfort, still romantic/fluff, happy ending  ↬  warnings: since is peace inspired there are references to a situation similar to the one taylor had to go through in 2016 and the aftermath of it, so taeyong is in a bad state of mind (mention of suicidal thoughts), homophobia (one explicit comment, but there are references to it during the whole story), implied sexual content at the end (nothing explicit) ↬  words count: 6.8k ↬  playlist ↬  ao3 link

Taeyong knew it, he knew everything since he was young and naive, too busy dreaming of filled stadiums and tears marked faces screaming his name. Taeyong always knew how fucked up the music industry was, how unfair, how fake and cynical it was. But Taeyong had always been a dreamer, a believer, and after all, he still was, even now. A grin made its way on his beautiful face, as he wiped a lonely tear on his rosy cheek away. Yes, he still believed in a miracle, he really hoped that the art he had been gifting to the world for all these years was enough for people to not stop supporting him. He really wished that all of his countless sleepless nights awake writing songs on his kitchen counter while his other half was sleeping in their bedroom were worth something. He wanted to think that the immense love he had been giving to his fans travelling around the world to perform with just four hours of sleep was appreciated. But deep down he knew that now everything was gone. His world crumbled apart into million pieces, and his love, his passion, his dedication, his art, weren’t enough to save it. He sighed, letting his head fall on the back of the chair in his home studio, he wanted to cry, scream maybe, destroy everything that was in that room, but he decided that it simply wasn’t worth it. Or simply that small sparkle of hope that was still burning inside of him stopped him from doing so. Except he knew what was about to come. “Tomorrow at 8, be careful nobody sees you entering the company, they’re not happy. We have to talk about the contract.” The manager's words were direct, strict and cold even through a text message. Lee Taeyong, the record-breaking artist from South Korea, with his incredible all-round personality full of charms and talents, was over, and there was nothing he could do to change that. When people fall out of love with you, there’s nothing you can do to change their mind. They simply don’t love you anymore. 

✯✯✯

It wasn’t the first time Taeyong had to go through something like that. He had always been extremely controversial during his seven years career, whether it was for something he had seriously done or some crazy fake rumour spread around. People are fast at judging others without looking at the mirror even once, and he had experienced that on his skin more than once. He had to say sorry for things he had never done. He had to stay silent in front of the tremendous words people would throw at him, his agents never taking his side, even when they knew the truth, and some of his fans turning around on their backs. 

Was he still famous? Did he still break records? Skyrocketed on the charts at every comeback? Yes, definitely. Probably somebody could say that after all these years he still had the world in the palm of his hands, but, honestly, he felt like he had nobody he could count on. All the people who used him just for clout, just to talk shit about him once they arrived where they wanted. All of the people who liked to call themselves tyongfs but never stayed when he needed them the most. His real friends all left the country, for different reasons, and the ones in the industry he felt to call like that, could be counted on one single hand. So when he met Doyoung and the other wasn’t totally disgusted by him or tried to work his way to the top, Taeyong was seriously surprised. A bittersweet forced laugh escaped from his lips as he put his coat on, and tried to take deep breaths in the mirror, trying to prepare himself to see the end of his career. He had been through so much shit since he was barely eighteen, but nothing ever hurt him more than seeing his dream disappear from his hands simply because he loved somebody, the only one who ever stood by his side. Nothing could ever come close to the pain that he was feeling at the moment, thinking that he had to choose between the people he loved the most, Doyoung and tyongfs. A choice that he never wanted to make, because his love and his heart were enough for them both. A choice that he wasn’t making, because apparently his fans, Korean netizens, and his agency decided that it wasn’t right, that something was twisted in him, and they simply couldn’t support somebody like him anymore. Taeyong had stopped being the perfect straight boy next door, and somebody decided for him that it was time to take him and throw him in the trash. And Taeyong had come close to that many times, but never like this, never he had seen such harsh words addressed at him, never he had felt so much hate and disgust. He knew that now, they were deleting him, acting as if he never existed. 

✯✯✯

Doyoung had no idea what to do. It had been a week now since their kissing photo got spread around, one week since the internet exploded, seven days since he had to thank God he worked in his own place or else he would’ve been fired too. It had been five days since Taeyong’s company kicked him out, giving him no chance to fight for his art and his job, it had been five days since Taeyong got home and wandered around like a ghost, his favourite blanket over his head, his feet lazily dragging themselves on the cold floor, and drinking cups over cups of coffee in front of their big window which faced the whole city. 

“Sitting there all day won’t change things.” The younger said, slowly making his way behind his boyfriend. He had kept quiet the whole week, not wanting to make him feel worse, and also because he didn’t want to let out his real emotions. Doyoung felt incredibly guilty. As soon as the news came out he already knew the ending, and all he could think was that maybe if they had been more careful, or simply if they had never met, if they had never fallen in love and started dating, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. And he felt that it was his fault because he was the one who couldn’t let Taeyong go, the one who had to persist and convince him that he deserved love, and he would’ve stayed with him till the end, no matter his reputation or the things Taeyong couldn’t give him. 

Doyoung sighed when his boyfriend didn’t answer, he sat next to him on the large windowsill, his body facing Taeyong’s even though the other was turned toward Seoul at their feet. 

Taeyong let out a barely audible huff, placed the hot cup in the cavity the blanket formed between his legs, and then turned around to face the older. His head was still resting on the wall at his side, and for a while, they simply stared at each other without saying a word. Somehow, that was enough. A silence that only two souls that knew each other that deeply could donate. An unspoken secret language they had taught each other through the years. They were like that, they never needed to say much out loud, it was a particular type of chemistry that flooded between them. 

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong mumbled, breaking the eyes contact, too fearful and coward to look at him in the eyes. Doyoung furrowed his brow, his hand moving to grab his chin and lift his head up. 

“For what?” 

Taeyong sighed, he blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his eyes from the foggy views the tears he beforehand shed gave him. “For all the shit that I put you through, not only now, but since we know each other.” 

Doyoung bit his lower lip and then moved closer to his boyfriend, his hands cupped his pretty face, and a smile crept on his own as he stared at the boy in front of him. No matter how tired and broken he was, to him, he was still the most beautiful man on the hearth.

“Don’t say sorry,” he whispered, moving the wild strands of his hair who fell messily on his eyes. “I’ll do it all over again for you, Tae. I knew what was coming when I started dating you, and I choose to stay. I’ve always been by your side, knowing that dating you meant waking up with nobody on the other side of the bed for months, and trusting you while you were on the other side of the world. I’ve chosen to stay, knowing that dating you meant going on the internet and read terrible things about your persona that weren’t true. I stayed, in your worst times, when everybody decided to stab you from behind and leave you bleeding. No, I fell for you there, when you were in pieces. I could’ve escaped, walk away like anybody else, take the distances from you, even foment people against you. But I didn’t.” Taeyong was trying to hold back his tears for the nth time of the day, or better, of the week. They loved each other, he was sure about that, but their love language wasn’t a spoken one. For most people it also appeared odd, their close friends and family sometimes still couldn’t believe that they were dating for three years now. Their dynamics appeared strange to many eyes, or at least considered the few people who knew about them. But they worked, better than with anyone else. Still, with all the love they had for each other, hearing things like this wasn’t something Taeyong was used to. He knew that Doyoung wouldn’t hesitate a second to jump off a cliff if it meant saving him, but hearing what he felt out loud made his heart skip a beat and flip in his chest. 

“And you know why?” Doyoung asked as his thumb gently wiped away his rolling teardrops. “And you want to know why I would do it all over again?” His voice started to shake a little bit, Doyoung wasn’t an emotional type, not that he was distant, simply the occasion where he would let himself go in front of the others were rare. But now, with a completely shattered Taeyong standing in front of him, it was just impossible. He had seen Taeyong at his worst, when society wanted him dead, and decided to turn around for the first time, and honestly, he had thought that he would’ve never had to see that again. But he was so wrong because now Taeyong wasn’t even half as broken as he was back then, the oldest didn’t let out much in those days, but Doyoung could only imagine all the things that were running in his pretty little mind. And they weren’t positive. “Because you are a ravishing sweeping fire, the most enchanting one, you have no idea how many times I feared of getting burned by you, but I stayed anyway and learnt that your flames don’t do nothing but keep me warm and safe.” 

Doyoung stopped for a second, taking his time and giving his boyfriend the time to absorb what he was telling him. “Remember what you once told me, the day you texted me we were over because you were terrified your life couldn’t fit mine, and how you didn’t want to hurt me?” Taeyong nodded, he remembered that day clearly. They had been dating for five months at the time, the worst rumours about him had just started to slow down, so he felt a little bit safer to go around Seoul when he had a break. All it took to ruin his day and destroy the pieces he had tried so hard to put back together was a rude comment yelled at him “What’s next? It'll come out that you’re gay?” And as he froze at the harsh words, looked at the ground and kept walking, his first thought flew at Doyoung. He couldn’t do that, he couldn’t put him in that situation. He didn’t think twice when he told him that things were over between them as soon as he arrived home. But honestly, he wasn’t expecting Doyoung banging at his door, screaming that he couldn’t care less what people thought about him, or them, trying to make him understand that they would’ve got this kind of remarks anyway, trying to reassure him that as long as nobody knew they would’ve been fine. 

“Rain will always come if you’re standing with me,” Taeyong whispered, reminiscing the words he had told him through the tears that night. Doyoung nodded, softly smiling at him, and then kept talking. 

“We got drenched with rain, we’ve been in the middle of storms, and look at us.” He smiled, holding his arms out in the air to point at them. “Our love was enough to keep us warm. Your beautiful, sparkling, mesmerizing flame is more than enough to keep us alive, warm and safe.” Taeyong didn’t say a thing, his emotions were all over him, he simply couldn’t find the strength to say anything, not already at least. So he simply let himself crush against Doyoung’s welcoming body, his face sunk in the cavity of his neck as he let the sobs roll out free, they weren’t sad tears, more likely the result of pent up stress of the terrible week he had been trough and the fears for their future who simply seemed faithless and tenebrous.

They sat there for a while, the only sounds they could hear were their breathing and Taeyong muffled cries. The sun was sinking at the horizon, lighting Seoul’s skyscraper of golden, wishing the town a good night, even if the city wasn’t going to sleep at all. Maybe on another occasion, they would’ve cared about that. As Doyoung lazily scrolled through Instagram while the national news channel was playing in the background as he waited for Taeyong to come home after a long day of practice, and then together they would’ve chosen what take out to order, half of the time ending up with Doyoung having to do all by himself because Taeyong was too tired even to make a choice. Or maybe they would’ve hit up some of their closest friends and hang out with them, at their place, without having to worry about getting caught. Maybe in another situation, the radio was on, keeping Doyoung company as he cooked for them, while humming and jamming to the songs the radio was passing, and then he would’ve laughed at Taeyong flustered expression when one of his songs would play. But now, it was totally different. If they turned on the TV they would’ve seen themselves, pictures of their broken privacy splashed on the front page of every journal and gossip show. If Taeyong turned on his phone they would’ve heard the frustrating ringing of persistent notification, missed calls from his mom, and his friends, just wanting to make sure he was still alive. Calls that Doyoung had to take for him during the whole week. 

“You know what? We’re cooking together tonight, you definitely need to eat more than just coffee and cheap snacks and I need to distract your mind from all of this.” Doyoung broke the quite they were in, carefully moving Taeyong away from him to look at his eyes. He tried to suppress a sad smile as soon as he made contact with them, Taeyong’s usually big brown warm eyes were now swollen and red, deprived of their typical bright light. He just wanted him to be happy because Taeyong never deserved any of the hurt people had put him through all these years. And the more he looked at his boyfriend the more he questioned when everything would go back to normal, if it ever will. But Doyoung needed things to at least be good again, he needed his happy, goofy, bright, loud and passionate Taeyong back. Because he deserved to be happy. 

Taeyong just nodded, not like he had a choice anyway, but not that he minded. He felt the need to spend some time together with Doyoung, just them, in their home, acting like the world didn’t exist. It was just an illusion, but he couldn’t care. And he was also pretty used to pretend, in his world, everything was an illusion, it needed to be like this to survive. Or else, there wouldn’t have been any other way to stand all of those masquerade revellers and their fake smiles, and unnecessarily loud laugh to hide emptiness and sadness. And for a split second, Taeyong thought that maybe, taking a break from all of that wasn’t even that bad. 

✯✯✯

“Are you eating?” His mom’s voice ringing from the other side of the phone was muffled, her tone as worried as three weeks before when the mess first happened. Taeyong giggled and rolled his eyes in the back of his head, it was like the third time she had to make sure about that since she called. 

“Yes, mom, I’m good. Doyo is feeding me well.” And even though he couldn’t see it, he perceived the genuine smile creeping on his mom’s tired face. She was so glad his son had someone like Doyoung by his side, especially now that she couldn’t be physically near him. 

“Still can’t come by?” The woman tried to ask anyway. Taeyong shook his head and hummed in negation. 

“You know why.” Honestly, Taeyong would’ve never forgiven himself if something happened to his mother. She wanted to pass by their house since the news broke out, but Taeyong was fast at forbidding her from doing so. Three weeks now, and the situation was still out of control. He simply couldn’t leave the house, the building was surrounded by angry, so-called, fans. Sometimes they were just standing there, breaking the merch, but two times things got out of hand and some neighbour had to intervene. Not that things changed. It was disgusting and scary, to the point he was just expecting from some of them to break in and kill him while he was distracted. Also, Doyoung still had to go to work. Being the owner of his small business he could take a week off to stay with Taeyong and also made up his mind, but they needed his job. Yes, Taeyong’s money were still there, he made pretty much a fortune during his career, but they needed to stay grounded, to have something that somehow reminded them of their everyday reality. Plus, what was Taeyong going to do now? Find another agency? Start one of his own? Cry himself to sleep every night because at this point it felt much more than just music and he couldn’t handle it anymore? Now the latter seemed to be the only thing he could think of. So he just stayed home, waiting for Doyoung to call him every time he made it out and in the house safe. He spent the days with a lump in his throat because of the girls down the house and the terrible things he read on the internet. The only things distracting him, his mom and his friend’s calls. 

At least two minutes passed by in silence, just a light buzzing from the line could be heard, but Taeyong felt some sort of tranquillity in his mom’s breathing. He closed his eyes and imagined to be wrapped in her arms, his head on her chest, as it moved up and down, and her voice chanting a sweet song. Just like when he was a child, and everything was easier, and nobody had ever hurt him. 

“Yongie,” her mom called his attention. The boy hummed, loud enough that she could hear. “You know that I love you and I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done in your life, right?” His mom had never been too happy about his choice in the career path. She knew he was talented, she never doubted his capability of filling stadiums and captivate people. She simply hated the industry, their brainwashing, the way they produced robots and not people with feelings. She was aware of what being a celebrity meant and she never wished that life for his son. But when someone you love has a dream, what do you do? Do you clip their wings or let them fly? She let him go, and never stopped, even for a second, to be proud of her little man. 

“I know,” Taeyong smiled, a sincere smile after lots of forced ones, “you’re always my number one fan, right?” 

“First and last, nobody might stand your annoying self anymore but I’m going to still be here.” She exclaimed, making his son laugh. But he knew it was true, even if everyone left, she was always going to be there. 

He talked with his mom some more, but when the phone call ended he fell back into the hole that was devouring him. He sighed, nervously running his fingers through his hair, pulling his bleached blonde locks.

He wanted to pick up the phone and call Johnny, have a chat with him up until Doyoung would've come home. Talking with his best friend would’ve definitely helped him to not think about his life. But they had already talked in the morning when Johnny called to make sure that he was okay and proposed him to spend some time with him and Ten in England. He didn’t want to bother him, but at the same time, he didn’t feel in the mood to talk with any other of his friends.

So, pretty much unconsciously, he did the only thing he shouldn’t have done. He grabbed his phone and went on twitter. Socials were toxic, he knew that. He should’ve already deleted everything and don’t think about it, but somehow he always ended up there. He desperately needed to know what people thought about him, if one, even just one, of his fans stayed. And for some sort of strange reason, he felt like he also needed to know all the bad things. To make sure that it was real, that people really hated him. Or maybe because, by now, that words already crept into his brain and he felt like he was unlovable and unworthy and deserved to read what they had been calling him lately. And his heart took it, up until he saw a tweet against Doyoung, about how they didn’t even know him but to date somebody like him they had to be twice as bad. Or another one saying that Doyoung wasn’t even attractive and at least Taeyong could’ve had better taste if he really wanted to be like that. The more he scrolled on his name the worst things got. People saying that they had been waiting for this for ages, some others saying that Taeyong should’ve already been cancelled years ago when his first scandals broke out, or how he had probably fucked his way to the top. Thousands of tweets saying that they always hated him for his attitude, and they couldn’t stand seeing him feeling himself so much, and all of that was a lesson that he was finally paying. Laughs and jokes on how probably the strong, intimidating Lee Taeyong was now crying like a little bitch.

And they were right, because he was sobbing uncontrollably, curled up on himself as he laid on the couch, the phone abandoned on the floor after he slipped from his sweaty hands. He wanted to scream, and he did. An agonizing loud scream resonated through the walls as he tried to push out of his brain the painful and dark thoughts that were drawing him. He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t sleep at night knowing that he was dragging Doyoung in this hell with him when he deserved much better. But what was he supposed to do? Taeyong had already tried to break up with him, fully aware that their lifestyles were just too different. And Doyoung had spent a whole night up just listening to his nagging and crying, as he desperately tried to convince him that no matter how hard it was going to get, he wanted exactly what they had. But now everything was different. Back then Taeyong had snapped because of one single homophobic comment, they weren’t out, nobody knew about them. Now, everything was different. And he just had to make sure that Doyoung was strong enough to get through that. Because Taeyong wasn’t so sure that all that he could offer was enough for him to stay. And he also wasn’t so sure that he, himself, could make it out alive. He just couldn’t take it anymore. And he felt so fragile as perfectly known old thought came to his mind. It wasn’t the first time other people words made him believe that he simply wasn’t worth living. He disrupted the lives of all the people he loved, he was a tornado, not the nice little flame Doyoung loved to describe him as. But he didn’t want to be like this anymore, to hurt the good and trust the evil, even if unconsciously. Maybe it was a sign, that life didn’t suit him anymore. He was tired, he just wanted a normal life. He wanted to wake up in the morning and go to work, just to go back home to Doyoung preparing dinner. He wanted to spend lazy Sundays on the couch wrapped in Doyoung’s arms. He wanted to live somewhere where they could hold hand with a little less terror of being judged and beaten. He wanted to live, as a human being who made mistakes and not an automaton. 

He wiped his tears with the back of Doyoung’ sweater he was currently wearing and got up from that spot in the living room. In less than twenty minutes Doyoung would’ve been home, and he didn’t want him to see him like that. He needed to distract himself, not let his mind travel in the wrong places, so maybe some music playing in the background as he cooked would’ve been helpful. 

✯✯✯

The evening passed by quietly. Doyoung had come home safe, finding Taeyong busy at the cookers, humming and dancing to the rhythm of one of his favourite records. The younger didn’t see it coming and slightly jumped when Doyoung hugged him from behind, maybe, given the tense situation, that wasn’t the best idea Doyoung had ever had, but Taeyong couldn’t mind. He just wanted to feel him close, to make sure that he was there for real, and he wasn’t just one of the many mindless dreams he had. Taeyong had to make sure that Doyoung was his, he had to remind himself that he deserved the happiness he could bring him. And Doyoung felt that something was somehow wrong when Taeyong kissed him a little bit longer than the usual and then didn’t pull away but let his head rest on his shoulder. He didn’t say a word, tough, other than pointing that what was for dinner looked delicious. 

Seoul's sky was particularly pretty that evening, coloured with soft shades of pink and purple, painting their living room with the same tones. And that dinner passed as one of their old romantic indoor dates, far away from the world, and strangely, for the first time after many, the exhausting sense of suffocation wasn’t there. Maybe Taeyong still felt it, but not as much as that afternoon, when he was all by himself. 

Taeyong really didn’t want to ruin that perfect mood. The apparent calm they were surrounded with as they laid on their sofa, carelessly paying attention to the movie they had chosen to watch. They were more lost in each other's touch, Taeyong let himself relax as Doyoung spooned him, their hands intertwined, because they wanted and also because Taeyong had started to nervously bit his nails once again. In the years Doyoung learnt that telling him was useless, he would panic, his cheeks flushed, and then go back doing it once again. So the most efficient method was to grab his hands, play with them, hold them, caress them, anything that could divert Taeyong’s attention and also his nervousness. Not only he would stop bite them, but it would help his sense of anxiety, and Doyoung got to feel him closer, so everybody won with that. 

But they needed to talk. This was a point of no return, and Taeyong had to know if they wanted to travel the same road together forever or not. They needed to start over. Their coming of age had come, they couldn’t just sit around and ignore the problems. Taeyong had never been firm on his choices, always walking on eggshells, with fear of crashing because the danger was near. But now, after all of these years in the industry, he had realized that he simply couldn’t get away from it. It was always around the corner, ready to attack, it lived in him. And he had to remind Doyoung that. He had to let him know all the feelings he had for him, and then let the decision in his hands. 

“I could never give you peace,” the blond mumbled, his words barely more than a whisper. Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows, he had heard what his boyfriend had said, but he couldn’t understand his point. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, moving a little so he could have a better look at the older’s face. 

Taeyong took a deep breath while his eyes were focused on their fingers playing together. “With my life, with who I am. And then your life, and who you are.” Doyoung wanted to roll his eyes to the sky, thinking he was going to witness Taeyong trying to break them apart once again, but something in the tranquillity of the other’s voice told him that this conversation wasn’t going there. 

“Sometimes I look at you, and just don’t feel enough. Not enough to cope for all the things that you had to stop doing for me, or the fears that I planted in your heart, or even the way I make your future so uncertain. I look at you and I see integrity, and it makes me feel small.” 

Doyoung stayed silent, as much as he loved Taeyong, he couldn’t deny that he was right. Their lives were totally different and pretending it wasn’t true would've been. And yes, sometimes it was hard to keep it up with Taeyong’s busy rhythm, sometimes things got bigger than what he could handle. But Doyoung knew that. Taeyong had made it clear since the start, and he knew by himself that dating a celebrity like him would’ve brought along a lot of hard times. Still, he could totally get why Taeyong always felt like a burden; he was insecure, he always believed that he wasn’t deserving of love, especially a sincere one that lead to a healthy relationship. 

“You think that I regret all these years together?” Doyoung asked when nothing else came out of Taeyong’s mouth. 

The other shook his head. “I don’t know, but I want you to know that I’m fully aware of how hard it has been for you too. And I’m glad for all the things you’ve done for me.” 

Doyoung smiled, then one of his hand travelled up to caress his hair. Yes, he knew Taeyong knew that. Taeyong had seen the most fragile and vulnerable sides of him, he had seen him fall apart in front of him so many times that sometimes he wondered why he never left. To strangers’ eyes, Doyoung was strong, always in control of everything, it looked like he always had his shit together, but it wasn’t like that at all. And Taeyong was the only one who ever seen him like that, the only one he had ever opened up to in such a real way. The times he cried because he was terrified of not being able to do well in his new business. The older wanted to spend more time next to him, but the worldwide tours didn’t give him the chance to be present in the way he really wanted. Or when jealousy and insecurity mixed up together, and Doyoung cried at night thinking that Taeyong could find somebody better than him every day; and some nights the blonde was there to roll around, hug him and love the insecurities away, but many others he wasn’t. 

“I’m sorry if I couldn’t always be there for you, but God, Doyoung,” he exhaled, squeezing his eyes to hold back the tears that were threatening to roll down his cheeks, “everybody thinks love’s for sure, but I would die for you in secret, any day, without thinking twice.” 

Doyoung’s heart skipped a beat, his head fell on top of his boyfriend’s shoulder as he held him tighter. 

“You know, right?” Taeyong asked, lifting his body to sit up with his back and look at Doyoung in the eyes. And in a fragment, he could see all of his vulnerability. Taeyong had always thought that Doyoung was like glass. Beautiful, transparent, resistant, but so, so fragile, that one single needle could tear him into pieces. And he had seen him shattered many times. He just wanted to make sure that he knew he could always count on him, since most of the times it was always Doyoung worrying about everybody else, without taking care of himself. 

The younger hummed, following his actions. 

“You know that I’d swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches. Give you my wild,” Taeyong stopped for a second, his hand moved to grab Doyoung’s one, and his head rolled back as he tried to hold back the tears, and then let out a giggle “I’d even give you a child if it was possible.”

Doyoung chuckled and smacked him playfully on the arm. 

“You know what I feel for you, the way I never felt so at ease with anybody else. You know how deep under my skin you got, how deeply you know every single inch of my soul. You know how much I cherish the way we don’t need words to understand each other, a glance is enough, silence is enough. I see your family as mine, your brother is my brother, and I couldn’t ask for anything better than that.” His tone was sincere, not that Doyoung ever doubted that, but something in his voice and in the way he was looking at him, made him feel a certain kind of way. And in that moment realization hit him like a truck, what they had was just above everything and everyone else, a rare gem only them could understand. And he was so grateful that fate, God, his ancestors, or whoever people wanted to believe held the strings of life, let them together. 

“I’d give you my sunshine, give you my best,” Taeyong said, now intertwining their fingers, and holding tighter. 

“Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?” a tingle of fragility in his voice. He was scared, no, terrified, Doyoung would say no and run away from him without thinking twice and looking back. He was so scared that Doyoung would've slipped out of his fingers that he unconsciously held even more than before. 

Doyoung didn’t answer, he threw himself in the other’s arms and kissed him, slowly at first, just to become more passionate. His hands running through his locks, pulling him closer. 

“Yes, Taeyong. It will be enough. You are enough. You will always be enough.” He mumbled once he pulled away, tears marking both of their faces. 

“I don’t regret one bit of what I had with you, I could never, Yongie,” he said, his hands still cupping the other’s face. “I want this, I want you, and all the mess you bring with you. I love you. I’m dating you, not them, and their poisoned words. I’m in this with you. Not with anybody else. I don’t care about what they say to you, they don’t even know a quarter of the amazing person that you are. I don’t care about what they say about me, their words don’t define me. Their hate doesn’t define our love and its validity.” 

This time is was Taeyong’s turn to stay silent and just lean in to make their lips touch again. 

And in the dawn of the night, they stayed like that for a while. Forehead to forehead as Seoul was busy outside; with her cars moving between traffic lights and her people getting drunk in downtown bars. They could feel the city’s vibration, but they couldn’t care much about the others. It was just them, lost in their own moment. 

Taeyong leaned in to kiss him again, and again. He needed Doyoung like he was his vital lymph. And he couldn’t care if he looked desperate, greedy and messy like a teenage boy during his first love story. He just wanted to feel. To feel alive, to feel real, to feel love. He couldn’t quite remember the last time they made love to each other. The last months had been a hell for so many different reasons, always busy, life moving so fast that the only time they had together he was either too tired or a quick thing was all they could get at. 

But now, the world had stopped. His castle crumbled overnight. They took the crown from him. He wasn’t sitting on his throne anymore. He had nowhere else to be, now. 

Now they had all the time they wanted to take things slow. To get lost in the smallest details of the other. Taeyong could kiss every small portion of Doyoung’ skin. He wanted to burn in his flames, feel the heat on his skin, and deep down in his soul. 

And right now that Doyoung’s hands were on him, modelling him like a sculptor, touching him like nobody else ever could, he was sure of one thing. He had made mistakes in his life, never learning much from them, but at least he had done one thing right. 

Now that Doyoung’s starry eyes looked at him as if he was the most precious jewel in the world, he understood that just that was enough to light up his darkest night. No, Taeyong didn’t know how to call that, it was just more than love at this point. Maybe they were soulmates. No, definitely they were, there was no other way they could be described as. And a smile crept on his face, as he let himself be lulled by the strange wave of happiness and safeness that hit him. 

Doyoung noticed that, and, stopping for a second, he raised his head to level his. “Why are you so happy, uh?” He asked with a smirk on his face. 

Taeyong shrugged. “Nothing, I was just thinking that I won at life.” 

“You won?” Doyoung raised an eyebrow, his left arm was resting at the side of Taeyong's face supporting his weight so he wouldn’t fall on his naked boyfriend. 

Taeyong hummed, his "dumb" smile never leaving his face. And Doyoung was so glad that the same old Taeyong seemed to be back, at least for now. He knew that the road to healing would’ve been long, but now, Taeyong had stars in his eyes, and that was the only thing he wanted to see. 

“If I tell you that I think we’re soulmates in the middle of a lovemaking session will you run away?” Taeyong giggled as soon as he saw Doyoung roll his eyes. 

“I can’t believe I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Doyoung responded, but his hands were once again busy working on the other’s body, somehow pulling him even closer to his. 

“You want to spend the rest of your life with me?” Taeyong asked with a genuinely surprised look on his face, which disappeared as soon as Doyoung’s hands touched places that made him see stars. His lips opening, letting out beautiful moans that Doyoung suppressed with a kiss. 

“Isn’t that what soulmates do?” Doyoung asked him, leaving a trail of kisses over his neck, down to his collarbone, and all over his chest. 

And Taeyong wanted to say something rational, a small part of him even cry for the joy he was feeling after so many time, but he was already putty in Doyoung’s fingers, overwhelmed by too many emotions. But once again, words were superfluous between them. 

And as they became one in the night, burning in the heat of their love, they both had the confirmation that it would’ve been enough. Because at the end of the day, even if the devil’s in the details, they had a friend in each other.

And somehow, that was the only thing that mattered. 

 part two: where all the poets went to die

[soranihimawari]

Based on this Oikawa art: ©️to the original artist credits via this link.

Tagging : @oikawa-obvs @m0nstergeneration20xx @smolbludandelions @oikawaandkuroostan

Word count: 2.2k

Playlist for reference:

The lullaby:

The song that helped me write:

Conmigo, tu corazón está a salvo.

(With me, your heart is safe)

A small part of you is a tad bit more curious these days since your building had received a new occupant. You had been studying for months abroad in Argentina, the place where your paternal grandparents had met during the Second World War. They were encaptured by the thrall of escaping their fascist home territory of a province in Italy as children; the two would eventually meet as young adults and with a promise of an apple and fine charcuterie select meats, it wasn’t long before they were busy tending to their own children.

One lucky son met the love of his life on an excursion to the library and had successfully flirted with a young florist who did not fall for the young man’s sharp features, but instead, with his kind heart. The younger couple chose to move abroad to the states for a few years in order to leave behind the pillars of their supportive past to sketch a dream for their future.

You were the first child who infamously stayed mute, observing a world that was meant for those who were much older and wiser than a child. You had been exposed to mainly three languages and until the age of four, you remained silent. You had been dragged to many doctors and learning centers yet the cause for the quiet loomed over your tiny demeanor, but growing up in a multicultural household did have its charm. You were five years old when you finally decided staying quiet was no longer an option; you strung along sentences in your father’s Argentine tongue, your mother’s native British English, & finally much to your grandparents’ surprise, Italian. The world was much more brilliant since that day.

Now, nineteen years later, here you were standing at the mailing center floor of your student lodging. The mid-July season was a time when the air brought about snow and sleet and the graying sunset surrounded the city of Buenos Aries in a phosphorescent hue. The new neighbor had just arrived from Japan earlier last month; he was a sight to behold. You couldn’t help falling for his charming smile or his determineds stare as you two walk up the stairs together. Suddenly, you think of yourself when you were nonverbal for the first five years on this planet. His actions and reactions to the new side world was at first marvelous; you could see his passion and drive everyday you would leave the apartment for various errands like heading to the market or a cafe for a light snack of coffee and pan de bono.

However, the thinning veil of homesickness loomed behind the closed door had become much too great. You didn’t mean to pry, but you could tell the man was clearly upset at something (or in this case someone) as you over heard his voice crack on the phone, which for whatever reason had been set to speaker:

“Lo siento Toto. No podemos encontrar un traductor para usted ahora mismo.”

You close the book you were reading in your room as soon as you heard the call end. It was only three weeks into his tenure, but you and him liked to play a game. You come up with it one afternoon after your online lecture at the university finished and he was home from a jog around the apartment block. You smile at him, waving shyly at first. He returns the gesture before you make a sign with your hands; this is when you point him and he glanced down at your kind eyes. You smile again and with your opposite hand, you tap his door once. You frown, and it’s two knocks. And so on. If there is an emergency, it’s a triangular placed knock; if it’s a health thing like a cold or your cycle showing up, a square. So now you wait patiently waiting by the wall of next to your bed and when you hear no knock from him, you raise your hand and knock twice. Your neighbor agrees with two knocks followed by a triangle.

Of all days to make a house call, you chose no time like the present. You grab your D-link key ring, bag, and a hoodie before you slip on your light blue high top sneakers. You lock your front door and slide to the left. Your heart suddenly beats a bit faster because you give a curtesy knock on the door. The deadbolt squeaks as your neighbor pulls the door open.

The apartment is dark save for the night light in the kitchen and the light in the bedroom. Looming above you, you noticed his pink tinged nose and tear stricken cheeks hidden by a broken smile. You think about your family stories about being lost and found. You apply it to him once the door behind you closes. His dark brown hair bounces on a whim as he instinctually reaches out for your hoodie sleeve; he tugs on the fabric causing you to turn to look down at his hands. He mutters something so quietly you thought it was the heating element being turned on by the timer.

You nod your head, kicking off your shoes; you see the small area next to the coat closet where his shoes were kept. This momentary delay caused enough of a buffer time before he moves his hand into your own to hold. You don’t mind the roughness of his fingers at all. Against yours, it feels like the sport he so heavily trains for everyday gave him these aesthetically pleasing grip. You squeeze his hand gently for reassurance, your eyes hide a certain storm of serenity & you decide that perhaps this is what he needs. You have to quell the uneasiness and betrayal he was emoting because you of all people understand.

Call it a sign of humanness since you both slowly start to see each other not as neighbors, but as equals in the solidarity of finding comfort in the other.Neither of you say anything as he leads you to his kitchen dining island where he sits on a singular barstool, his body facing you with his hand in yours still.

You raise an open palm to his face, his cheek is warmer than you expected when he closes his eyes and the tears fall again. He looks like a pouting child, much to your amusement. You say nothing as your other hand massages the ringlets (which felt like chocolatier mousse)that make up his hair before you feel his other arm snake around your waist and he pulls you closer; your hoodie becomes damp the more he lets out every thing that he kept locked away. The loneliness is not kind to those who fear it, yet the two of you persevered. After all, the dark is less scary when you have a friend and so you grasp a hold of him. It hurts; this hurts seeing him this way because somewhere along the way you and him forged a bond. And you hold the boy who is so far from home as much as you can; believe in me and I will come running to you. Your inner conscience conveys this until his crying subsides you stay there still cradling his hallowed frame. His sniffles are reduced to a breadth of a whisper as you hum the opening bars of a song you heard earlier on the classic radio XM station.

Your eyes notice the shirt he wears has been through better days with the faded title on its sleeve, you realize the word is the same no matter which language you spoke; you brush back his hair with your fingers before you pry his almond eyes upward to get a good look at your stoic face. You wipe his cheeks with both of your hands and when you are sure his eyes are truly focused on your promoninent features, your breath hitches in your throat for a moment. You intake a sharp breath and when you exhale rather slowly, your breath fans across his brow. His eyes are closed for a half a second and you decide to open your mouth when your mid-Atlantic voice finds its place.

“Captain,” is the first word you say with confidence you say with utmost clarity. You trace your fingers on the faded design, your neighbor’s emblem is a crown as well. Your voice cuts through his pride like a comet; it is surreal and bright. The shadows of sadness ceases to exist when you see how much the old title inspires the almost snuffed out embers to reignite. He doesn’t look anywhere but up at you stunned in a wild glimpse of surprise. You repeat the word, a brief smile dances across your features.

“Captain. Capitán. Capitano,” all three languages you know in succession drives his mind to rule the court again. You tell him this out loud until he kisses your lips closed; it is as honest as he feels and when the kiss breaks you tap his steadfast pursed lips with your left handed fingers. His arm is still on your waist with the other brushing back your your front layers of hair over your shoulders. You place your right hand in the middle of his chest which now regained its resting breathing rhythm. He asks you something and you nod. You stifle a yawn before you remove your hand from his lips and lean down again.

This time, this kiss is calculated and efficient; you guide the hand on your waist higher to your neck and when you tilt your head to the opposite side, he whines. Yet you smirk beneath the soft sound he makes you reply with. You remove your lips from his and kiss his jawline, the side of his neck driving his impulse points insane. His hair is a mess and so is yours, but neither of you are paying it any mind when his arms envelope your body; he lifts you with such ease you feel your head swimming and the kiss is becoming more deep. Your hands entwine around his shoulders for stability, and your legs wrap around his hips; and he breaks this moment to hold your body for the few minutes he needs to move you swiftly out of his kitchen and into his dimly lit room. He smiles into this kiss and finally the least bit of sorrow leaves for the time being.

There is an innate need of questions seeking answers. Desires of wanting to feel safe in the company you keep is a mad thought when your nightly clothed bodies are pressed in an innocent hold and the kisses exchanged are like tantalizing secrets you expose.

He knows he’s not in the right mind set to give you all of him, but this physical love language you both trade off are fine for now (on so many levels). He navigates the small apartment with ease calling you nicknames from his hometown like Watashinojinsei no joō & Hikari no ōjo.

You breathe in through your nose and out of your mouth as he lays you down, a tender sigh escapes your mouth in vague innocence remains. (It would be a name he affectionately still calls you years later, but neither of you are perturbed by the future you will create for each other.) You are on equal footing or lack there of as you both reach an sensual epiphany.

You let him hold you for as long as needs; your bold vitality is what motivates your contemporary lover in your arms, away from the fickleness of the world outside. Here in the bed draped in a sky blue tone, does the light he keeps on shine around you. Even Helios learns to drive the chariot, like your mythos books say, so you balance yourself, on your knees close to where he his hands rest on your thighs. He waits learning newer customs he was still adjusting to since he left his palace home behind.

You straighten your lower back as he observes the way you pull off your hoodie revealing a thermal turtleneck that has a designer’s mark stitched on the corner. The familiar western numbers stare at him through the well loved turtle neck. Your paternal grandmother and father’s favorite fútbol player and mother’s lucky number is exposed to him. The faded gold and white thread outlines the club from the late modernization of the sport (a club that has since been retired). Argentina’s famous #13 ranking legend is Oreste Omar Corbatta, commonly known in 1957 as “Angels with Dirty Faces,” but from where the soon to be Olympian watches you, he knows where this chance meeting would end once you trace your fingers along his face...

You crawl back toward him to rest your head against his neck as he presses his lips against your brow. You look up at him with a a stern gaze. He chuckles at the way your nose scrunches before he kisses you one final time, hope ever present when your bodies succumb to sleep. Somewhere along the twilight hours activities, the idea is seared into both your minds that no matter what happens afterwards, because falling in love with him would be the driving force for him to call you his everything.

[blaineisnotyourvalentine]

Task: Character Playlist Deep Dive

Playlist: Blaine Valentine’s Character Playlist

Number of Songs: 15 (as of July 2021)

Length: 53:48 (as of July 2021)

Triggers: Physical illness, death, mental illness, violence

Track 1: Wake Me Up When September Ends- Green Day

Blaine’s mother died of cancer when he was only 4 years old. Like Billie Joe Armstrong’s father, she died in the month of September. When she died, Blaine’s innocence and empathy died as well. Remembering the few memories he has with her upsets him deeply. It’s a type of deep pain he doesn’t know how to express. Whenever the anniversary comes up, everyone closest to him knows to leave him alone; he just wants the month to be over. 

Track 2: I Am Machine- Three Days Grace

After his mother’s death, Blaine became emotionally numb and initially hated what had become of him. He went through a stage of emotional turmoil as he grappled with understanding what was going on. He missed being happy-- and feeling anything at all, for that matter. He didn’t know how to fix this, so he often lashed out in order to feel something, anything. Eventually, he learned to accept what he couldn’t change, but this song is meant to reflect the time before he came to terms with himself. 

Track 3: Behind Blue Eyes- The Who

Blaine has never met another person like himself in real life. As he got older, he found an online community for people with ASPD and was able to diagnose himself, but before this, he felt very alone and misunderstood. Once he got past his stage of complete emotional numbness, he began to feel his emotions on a duller scale than prior. But this wasn’t enough for him to be normal. Once he was in therapy, he began mimicking the emotional reactions of those around him and wearing a “mask” to hide his true thoughts and feelings, but this wasn’t enough to make him normal either. He wasn’t normal, but no one knew what it was like to be him. 

Track 4: Super Rich Kids- Frank Ocean & Earl Sweatshirt

Blaine grew up without a mother. Though his father was physically there, he became emotionally distant and had to work long hours to support Blaine. As a result of his dad’s excessive working, he grew up with money. He isn’t the richest person around, but he’s always been able to get what he wants materially and takes great advantage of his privilege. He has expensive clothes and drives a fancy car, but this isn’t enough for him. He’s always been missing something he can’t quite hold. 

Track 5: Do It All The Time- IDKHBTFM

Blaine is highly self-centered. He does what he wants whenever he wants, within reason of course. Whenever he’s deciding whether to do anything, his first question is “Will this benefit me?” For the most part, nobody has ever stopped him from doing what he wants, so he sees no reason to stop himself from doing it. The song itself is a critique on people who are spoiled and privileged, but Blaine fits this bill perfectly. 

Track 6: Emperor’s New Clothes- Panic! At The Disco

This song, though not an exact fit to his life, is a further expression of his self-centered mindset and hedonism. when he was a teenager especially, he had a strong desire to climb the social ranks and take everything he thought rightfully belonged to him. Blaine’s family didn’t come from money; both of his parents were first-generation college graduates and the first lawyers in their respective families. His logic is that they worked hard for what they achieved, so he might as well take advantage of that and use their success as a stepping stone for his own future success. 

Track 7: Lose It- SWMRS

When Blaine was a sophomore in high school, he had his first relationship with a girl named Hadley. Hadley was a junior and the student body president. He initially pursued her because he wanted to increase his social status, but he ended up really liking her. It wasn’t quite love, but it was the closest he’s ever felt to romantic love. When he found out from a friend that she had cheated on him, he was angered beyond belief. Music was the thing they bonded over the most, so there was a period where he couldn’t listen to any of his favorite songs because they reminded him of her and the betrayal he faced. 

Track 8: Antisocial- Ed Sheeran & Travis Scott

You can’t have ASPD without antisocial behavior. Even though he talks to people and has a circle of friends, Blaine is highly introverted by nature and generally wants to be left alone. He does have people that he likes to keep around and hang out with, but he doesn’t need others to survive and he only wants to hang out with people on his own terms. With how busy he is with law school and internships/externships, he is perfectly okay on his own most nights.

Track 9: Kill Somebody- YUNGBLUD

One of Blaine’s most dangerous symptoms of his personality disorder is his intrusive thoughts. These thoughts come to him randomly without rhyme or reason. Sometimes they’re as minor as shoplifting a bag of chips from the convenience store, but other times they’re as extreme as killing his friends and family. He’s able to dismiss the more extreme thoughts by talking himself through it, but that doesn’t stop them from popping into his head. 

Track 10: Bored- Tessa Violet & MisterWives

Blaine is chronically bored. He’s constantly looking for things to do to stimulate and excite his brain, because when he lets himself be bored for too long, he becomes restless and irritated. However, he often finds himself doing repetitive behaviors, which only worsens his irritability. The only real way to quench his boredom is to engage in reckless behavior. 

Track 11: Feelin’ Low (F*ckboy Blues)- Peach Pit

Blaine isn’t a romantic person. Between his overall dull emotions and his unresolved trauma from his first relationship, he doesn’t think he’s capable of falling in love. Whether or not this is true is still up for debate, but he also doesn’t want to try. His logic is that a one-night stand can’t betray your trust. There have been certain one-night stands who were particularly good in bed, who he considered sleeping with more than once, but in the end, his “logic” gets the best of him and he moves on to the next girl. However, no matter how many girls he hooks up with, he always feels like something is missing.

Track 12: Stinkfist- TOOL

This song is a representation of the way in which Blaine constantly seeks out new thrills in order to satisfy his chronic boredom. Every-day life bores him, so he goes out seeking stimulation by destroying things around him. However, there’s only so far he can go before he gets bored again. His intrusive thoughts are always telling him to go deeper and deeper into illegal activities, but his logical side must pull him back so he doesn’t go over the edge and end up injured or arrested.

Track 13: Wrecking Ball- Mother Mother

The emotion Blaine has the most frequent spikes in is anger. His anger spikes, combined with his chronic boredom, result in a lot of destruction. He wrecks things around him, both physically and metaphorically, for no reason other than that he can. Like a wrecking ball, he swings aimlessly, not necessarily caring what gets destroyed or who gets hurt in the process.

Track 14: Killer In The Mirror- Set It Off

In February 2021, Blaine began taking boxing lessons. Boxing has helped him release his pent up anger without delving into illegality. When he boxes, he thinks of those who have crossed him and imagines that he’s beating them to a pulp. Not only is the song about him boxing, but it also represents the way in which life has toughened him to the point where trusting people isn’t easy and he feels he’s the only person he can truly rely on for the important things in life.

Track 15: Talk To You- Ricky Montgomery 

This is another track to reflect his feelings about his mother. In recent months, Blaine has found himself thinking about her more and more. He knows he can’t change what happened, and he doesn’t want to change anything about himself, but he often wonders what his life would have been like if she hadn’t died. He wishes he could talk to her one last time and know whether or not she’s proud of him. 

[anarcho-mom-unist]

A survey of my ‘spotify wrapped’ from 2020

So, I listen to music between a lot of platforms, I hate how spotify operates as a company (and like in a way that’s pretty comparable to my loathing of the publishing/distribution sides of creative industries,) and I fucking refuse to ever pay for spotify askjdhd

However based on the aggregate of my 100 most-listened-to songs from a year of mostly hitting shuffle on an artist, album, or playlist on mobile, I do have some reflections and highlights. From that I made something of a survey of that list which includes my #1 and #100 song in addition to 1 song from each set of ten, for a total of 12 songs. These represent artists and genres I really got into this year, as well as longtime favorites that are worth talking about:

1. “Bad Trip” - Bad Trip (single) - Xena Elshazlii & Fady Haroun: "Bad Trip” is probably my favorite 2020 release, like if I had to pick one. The track has incredible energy, from the soft piano and vocalization intro to the verse with it’s sparse drums, subtle bass line, and slight strings to an absolute banger of a chorus with punchy staccato synths, reinforcement of the drum groove, and addition of an electric guitar. Elshazlii & Haroun pack a lot into 2-and-a-half minutes of music, and the variations in texture, mix, & music in each iteration of the song’s discrete sections are *chef’s kiss* ---verse 1 and chorus 1 are not identical to verse 2 and chorus 2, to say nothing of the short instrumental transition b/n the first chorus and second verse. Whenever I listen to “Bad Trip” I’m compelled to hit ‘repeat’ ---which is not a normal occurrence for me---and experience the builds and releases that this track brings once again. I don’t know much Arabic beyond the slang terms and exclamations that peppered my grandparents’ & parents’ speech when they spoke to each other in Armenian, but I’d be a liar if I didn’t tell y’all that “Bad Trip” is among the songs that make me want to learn the language so I can better sing along w/ them.

3. “City Lights” - Sailorwave II - Macross 82-99 ft. Kamei:  "City Lights” is the opener to Macross 82-99′s 2018 EP Sailorwave II, and it does that job immaculately. While I recommend the entire EP and an exploration of the Future Funk genre as a whole, you can’t go wrong with getting a taste of either through “City Lights.” The track bursts to life w/ synth brass chords and fast drums, quickly finding its way into punchy up-tempo horn line w/ light rhythm guitar and an active & bouncy bass line joining the mix. “City Lights” more or less goes from A to B to C and after the instrumental opening, the track shifts to a more under-voice horn line offering a countermelody to a mid-to-low register vocal line which is soon after joined by high voices punctuating the beginning of each phrase. The horns, guitars, and singers are cut from the track as the song enters its final section, a rap verse from featured artist Kamei accompanied with a slower-moving bass and light synth chords & wash in the middle register. Taken all together, “City Lights” ---like “Bad Trip” before it---packs a lot of music into a short duration & leaves me wanting more, which I especially long for when listening to the track outside of the context of the EP (which is what I usually do.)

12. “Turn to Hate” - Pony - Orville Peck: There’s a lot I could have done better in 2019, and “check out Orville Peck” is pretty high up there. “Turn to Hate” is a song that is at once heartrending, sincere, & catchy as all get out. Peck does one of my favorite possible things a musician can do on this track, and that’s make me Feel Things at a quick tempo. The vulnerable lyrics sung in outlaw country bass are supported by a fairly simple chord progression that acts as a solid foundation for a lot of texture ---moving guitar lines in the accompaniment part and middle-ground lines that move in and out of the melodic foreground. My moment of pure delight on the track is Peck’s laconic “yeehaw” that leads into a guitar solo that does so much work w/ its relative simplicity. “Turn to Hate” is an excellent song to get you into Orville Peck’s music if you aren’t already, if any of this piques your interest then I strongly recommend exploring his output of classic country meets 2010s indie meets camp gay sensibilities meets emotional realness. (This is as good a place as any to advise you to check out Yola and her album Walk Through Fire.)

27. “Water No Get Enemy” - Expensive Shit - Fela Kuti & Africa 70: I’m a newcomer to Afrobeat which is a fuckin’ shame because it contains a lot of the things I love most in music: rhythmic density and variety, jazz and “folk” idioms working together, a sense joy in the music-making with righteous anger at injustice in the music’s purpose, and a kick-ass horn section. "Water No Get Enemy” by Fela Kuti & Africa 70 is as good an intro as any to Afrobeat as it’s a delightful & excellent piece of music by the genre’s pioneer. It’s worth mentioning that in addition to its musical quality, Afrobeat is also deeply connected with Pan-Africanism and the resistance to the presence of European colonizers in Sub-Saharan Africa. To be frank, whatever I write can’t really do justice to this song or the musical movement from which it comes, go listen to it... a jam you can dance to while hating the British!? Immaculate. 

31. “Vardavar” - EP No. 1 - Tigran Hamasyan: The first of two songs from Armenian Jazz-fusion pianist/keyboardist and composer, Tigran Hamasyan, is a fast moving rhythmically dense piece of music named after the Armenian holiday of the same name ---Vardavar is a holiday of pre-Christian origin that Armenians celebrate in July in observance of the transfiguration of Christ, it involves throwing buckets of water on each other! Appropriate to its namesake, the running piano line through much of the track and the melodic lines are both exceptionally fluid and reminiscent of water. The rhythm of the tune follows a highly irregular subdivision of the bar that it’s best to feel along w/ as a listener ---seriously, unless you’re transcribing the tune or practicing/rehearsing it, don’t worry about counting---and get lost in with the flow of the music. Notable features of the track are the dense layering of instrumental/vocal lines on the melodic and countermelodic material, breakdowns & entire sections where the music takes to longer notes, “slower” feel & division of the bar, and a slower harmonic rhythm, unexpected unisons b/n instruments, and the transformation of Armenian folk melodies & texts between vocalized material and statements of the original material. There is no living musician whose work I love more than Tigran’s and if you’re not familiar with it “Vardavar” is an excellent place to start.

46. “Boyish” - Tropical Jinx - Little Big League:  "Boyish” is better known as one of the singles from Japanese Breakfast’s sophomore album Soft Sounds from Another Planet where Michelle Zauner presents the tune at a slow tempo with an unassuming instrumental accompaniment, wash of synths in the chorus, and low-register closing guitar solo which leaves the audience with a sense of melancholy & vulnerability. The original version from the 2014 LP of Zauner’s former band, Little Big League, offers a different take on the text: noisy guitars, driving rhythm, aggressive drumming on a rock groove, and a vocal delivery offering more of the rage of heartbreak than its sadness. Zauner refers to “Boyish” as an ‘ugly girl anthem’ and that intention is very apparent on this version of the track ---whereas the Japanese Breakfast take on it gave me a sense of being in the gender hinterlands b/n acceptable presentations of masculine and feminine. Both versions of the song are really worth seeking out for different reasons, and I chose to highlight Little Big League on this list because they’re a solid guitar-driven emo band that deserves appreciation in its own right.

50. “Dreaming” - Eat to the Beat - Blondie: What do I need to say about Blondie!? A CBGB act from the late-70′s that straddled the worlds of Punk and New Wave at their peak with a mix of an exceptional rhythm section (that bass!) diverse and compelling guitar work, and the captivating and ever-iconic vocals and presence of Debbie Harry. “Dreaming” might be my favorite song from Blondie and has had a special place in my heart since I first listened to them with my mom. It’s one of those songs that I’m tempted to call a perfect pop song: a joyful performance, lyrics that are at once simple and relatable ---whom amongst is unfamiliar with longing!?---music full of hooks & containing the kind of energy that just goes and takes you with it!

65. “Holy” - Shadow Theater - Tigran Hamasyan: The second entry from Tigran Hamasyan comes from his 2013 album Shadow Theater ---an excellent work as a whole---and is one of the slower, more spacious, and simpler tracks from it. “Holy” is a setting of the Armenian liturgical piece “Soorp Soorp” which is frequently used in the celebration of the Eucharist (even in the Armenian Protestant church I grew up in) and it’s achingly beautiful. There’s always something to be said about a musician capable of complex and virtuosic feats on their instrument doing something very simply and very well, and that’s what the entire ensemble brings ---including frequent collaborator Areni Agbabian who provides the vocals. Even as the texture thickens in the middle of the song, the middle ground & harmonic support coming from strings and bassoon (Ben Wendel) is simple, under-voice, and reverent. “Holy” is the kind of piece of music that offers an encounter with God ---even if one would never otherwise believe in something beyond the material; even just for a moment.

77. “The Day the World Turn Day-Glo” - Germ Free Adolescents - X-Ray Spex: X-Ray Spex is one of those bands I’ve listened to before on a recommendation I received ages ago but never really followed up on beyond the one song sent my way. “...Day-Glo” is a fuckin’ banger of song that just bursts with this wonderful energy from the jump & showcases the best qualities of X-Ray Spex’s sound: driving guitars, wild saxophone lines, and chaotically charismatic lead vocals from singer Poly Styrene. X-Ray Spex have an output that is wild and fun as hell to explore, and “...Day-Glo” is an excellent place to start ---you’d also do well to check out their more notable song “Oh Bondage, Up Yours!” 

84. “Marquee Moon” - Marquee Moon - Television: Listen, you don’t need to read some internet lesbian with a music degree go off about Television ---one of the most musically interesting acts to come out of CBGB and one of many definitive proofs that Punk is not a label that people should fucking fight about having a true definition of. Clear 11 minutes in your day, find a pair of headphones so you can experience the use of stereo in the recording and enjoy each element of the song, especially with regards to Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd’s interlocking guitar lines.

96. “Leylum” - Kokorec - Collectif Medz Bazaar & Sevana Tchak: Armenian folk music, baby!! Collectif Medz Bazaar offer a lively and joyful rendition of the classic folk song “Leylum” which has been burned in my mind from church and community gatherings ---the fun ones with music and all of your aunties dancing in a circle and such. Listen to this song and DM me if you aren’t dancing along of joining in on the response parts as best you can. I think this particular recording offers a nice entry point into an exploration of Armenian music, the instrumentation hits a lot of the staples of Armenian folk ensembles ---duduks, dohl, dumbek, clarinet, shvi, etc.---and the song itself is an up tempo dance tune which I find to be easier to start with than ballads or liturgical music.

100. “Electrastar” - Paradize - Indochine: Back in the hazy past of 2017, one of my friends from undergrad and I were hanging out and playing music for each other. In a departure from his usual library of French Baroque music, he played a song by French New Wave band, Indochine. That song was “Electrastar” which is a consistent favorite of mine, my favorite song from its album ---Paradize, which is already a solid record---and a great entry point into the musical output of a band which has been active for about 40 years. "Electrastar” features driving rhythm guitar, pulsing synth under the texture, eminently catchy chorus and post-chorus, and a very care-full and effective approach to the mix. Also, not for nothing but that album cover is 👀

Survey of 2020 Listening

[curtisandlewis]

ML Relationship through the Perspective of a Fanfiction Writer

Listen to the Spotify playlist I made as an auditory companion

For their anniversary I would like to discuss from my perspective as a writer of fanfiction the many layers of ML’s relationship

Onions have layers as well as cake! I learned that from Jerry’s friend Eddie Murphy.

We all know how much the boys love cake…

Layer One Partnership

I wouldn’t be writing fanfiction about two guys who worked at a gas station. Their act is the reason we know about them and celebrate them today. What all of America saw was two men equally skilled at their art (though many were too stupid to realize), both in awe and each other’s biggest fan. What was not presented to the public was the communication it took to pull off their act. It took negotiation to set up a gag and trust as well as the sense to know when not to push when doing a stunt. Their natural rhythm made adlibs come off better than scripted material. They were so attuned to one another they could do the impossible.

Layer Two Friendship

Dean and Jerry most likely met in 1942 that’s four years of friendship before they ever were on stage together. They hung out, had more fun than anyone, and were emotionally supportive of the other. A subset of this aspect is when they act like boys. Wrestling each other to the ground, play fighting, playing football in the hall in nothing but your boxer shorts, and innocent kisses are all the actions of boys not yet taught the rules of manhood. In my writing I sometimes explore the idea of them having a romantic friendship. More than friends, less than lovers. Their relationship isn’t physical and neither has a sexual attraction but are deeply attracted to each other emotionally. This love can be (and Jerry often has!) compared to romantic love. They are affectionate sometimes in the form of kisses but that’s only to communicate their strong emotions for the other.

Layer Three Family

Some people are uncomfortable with them having a romantic friendship. What part of it was a LOVE STORY do you not understand? Often these people will say they loved each other like BROTHERS. In the past I have compared them to brothers but I meant only in the sense that they have a family-like bond. Brothers are protective in this “no one beats the shit out of my brother but me” kind of way. No real life brother relationship I know of is anything like Dean and Jerry. I do, however, get strong father/son vibes from them. Dean is protective, caring, gives Jerry discipline when he needs it, and loves him without condition. It’s important to note these are all things Jerry’s biological father didn’t provide.

Layer Four Marriage

Now we’re getting deep. When I talk about their marriage I don’t mean romantic love or a sexual relationship. I’m speaking strictly of their domesticity. Their act made it so they had to live on the road, sharing hotel rooms and a bed in the early days. As Jerry once said, LIVING AND LOVING TOGETHER. It’s canon that Dean moved in with Jerry more than once. They know what the other is like in a domestic situation. Jerry knows that Dean cuts corners when doing house work and can be a slob. Dean thinks Jerry should relax and not be so fussy. They learned to accept the other’s irritating quirks and create a harmonious environment where they can enjoy each other’s company. Dean and Jerry have to work together to (Jerry would love this analogy!) nurture their baby (their act). This requires...you guessed it! COMMUNICATION. When they communicate and I mean TALK, exchange words and make hard decisions, nothing can break them. In real life their little spats were like the arguments that married people have. In my fiction when they can no longer communicate what they want or need that’s the beginning of the end.

Layer Five Dom/sub

I’m not talking about in a sexual relationship or even within them practicing an alternative lifestyle. When Dean is dominant over Jerry it makes him feel owned. For Jerry to be owned is the highest form of love. He willingly submits to Dean’s loving authority and to serve him brings him great joy. The roles often switch back and forth depending on what the other needs. When Jerry is dominant over Dean it gives him a chance to breathe. For most of Dean’s life he had to appear dominant and in control because that’s what is expected of a man. Jerry is seen as the wife, the female half and naturally the more submissive. But when Jerry takes over the dominant role Dean can just be. He doesn’t have to worry about appearances. Sometimes a man just likes to be led.

Layer Six Romantic

This is when I write Dean and Jerry as lovers. Call them boyfriends, husbands, whatever you want. They are romantically attracted and deeply in love. If you would like a description look up any quote from Jerry about their relationship.

Layer Seven Supernatural

I’m not planning on doing any crossovers with the TV show if that’s what you were thinking. I’m speaking of all the things related to their connection that cannot be explained. They were mythological. In real life they spoke of a connection so deep they knew when the other was sick, in pain, or even angry at them before they were in the same room. I create stories that hint at this connection. They were fated to be together. No matter how stupid they act or how badly they fuck everything up a force beyond their control will always bring them back together.

Layer Eight Sexual

I have left this to be the final layer because it is the most deepest and intimate aspect of their relationship. When I write them having sex all of their aspects work together. Their professional partnership, especially the part where they must know the other’s limits, prepares them for a sexual relationship. As boys they can wrestle and play and as men these games can become something more meaningful than harmless fun. If you replace father with caretaker then that aspect also plays a key part. Making love is what married couples traditionally do. Dominance, submission, the switching between the two awakens their deepest desires and fulfills their deepest need. In Dean’s case it’s a need he didn’t know he had. When I write them practicing an alternative lifestyle I include pain and that sex doesn’t have to be gentle to be deeply romantic. Sex and physical touch on it’s own is how Dean can express his love for Jerry. Words fail him but his hands never do. I write that they can feel the love as if it was something tangible and passed to the other. As for the supernatural aspect, imagine how satisfying sex could be with your soul mate who knew when you would take your next breath and who knew your body as well as you did. This is why whenever I write Dean and Jerry having sex or experiencing sexual intimacy it is always more than that. It does not matter what they do or the lies they tell they are experiencing a deeply emotional act that can sometimes border on the spiritual.

I remember hearing the writer of a TV show talking about writing sex scenes. He used sex scenes as an opportunity to show who the characters were. That always stuck with me and as a writer I prefer examining their relationship and personalities through sex scenes. I mainly write them in a sexual relationship for this reason and also because it’s fun.

Below the cut is my personal experience with writing their sexual relationship, particularly penetrative sex. None of this will be included on the version posted to AO3

It is very important for me to know if and when my characters engage in certain acts, especially penetrative sex.

I am very protective of my Jerry character. Once upon a time, I wanted Dean to be his first everything. I think we all like the idea of Jerry being in control of his experiences with men and for those experiences to be really special. But when I would attempt to write Jerry as shy and innocent it felt like I was writing an original character that had the same name. Jerry’s experiences whether good or bad make him who he is. I can’t logically write that Jerry never acted on his attraction towards men in sixteen years because his soul mate was out there waiting for him. Also, Dean’s possessiveness would take over when he found out Jerry was untouched. He would think of him as “pure” and that never sat right with me.

Jerry kissed boys and men, was held by some and maybe even developed romantic feelings for one of them and Mr. Martin is just going to have to accept that.

Another thing Mr. Martin has to deal with is that Jerry very much enjoys penetrative sex and wants that in his sexual relationships. I write Dean as his first experience with homosexual intercourse because I want that experience to be special for him. If the idea weren’t so laughable I would have Dean sprinkle rose petals on their bed. Jerry isn’t losing his “virginity” he’s had sex before. Intercourse isn’t any different from any other sexual act. Any way men choose to have sex or get off with each other is valid, intimate, and as romantic as they feel.

However, intercourse is a riskier act than the others. The first time for any gender can be tricky and a lot can go wrong. I want Jerry to be with someone gentle and caring enough that he can receive the maximum amount of pleasure. I want this person to be someone he’s in love with and only gives him positive emotions during. Most importantly I want him never to regret this happened and when he thinks of it throughout the decades he feels good.

Quite recently, I’ve decided on a specific time when they do this. Drum roll please... Dean and Jerry share this special experience in 1947 when Jerry is twenty-one.

Why such a specific time? Because in 1948 Jerry goes to Hollywood and reunites with his oh so special friend Tony. When I first joined this fandom I thought Jerry met Tony in 1948 and in my fanfiction writer mind because of their strong sexual chemistry they instantly started a sexual relationship. They did EVERYTHING. Jerry didn’t have to worry about the rules that men were supposed to follow or if he was acting too feminine in bed or not feminine enough. There was no hesitation or holding back with Tony. He bottomed, he topped, dominant, submissive he explored every side of himself. To be with Tony he has to be a fully blossomed flower of a man and when the fifties hit he knows exactly what he wants sexually and completely accepts the desires he has for whichever gender he has a relationship with.

It’s beautiful isn’t it? Tony and Jerry definitely have their problems but when it comes to their sexual relationship I always write it as positive and satisfying for the both of them. When I started writing fanfiction for them it’s what I loved the most.

[tessisawriter]

What Real Support Looks Like, Part 3 (Mat Barzal)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

A/N: I created a playlist of songs that have influenced me throughout the series.

TCD = Trinity College Dublin

Warnings: One swear word, angst

Word Count: 2.6k

As Lauren pulled into the parking lot of Mat’s building and searched for a parking space, Gemma’s phone lit up with a notification.

Gemma lamented her decision to not throw the phone into her bag as she picked it up and scanned the screen. It was another text from Mat: “I will never forgive myself for what I said. I love you more than life itself and will do whatever it takes to make things right.”

I love you more than life itself. Mat saying the phrase replayed in Gemma’s mind over and over again. It meant a lot to both of them: those were the words Mat used when he told Gemma he loved her for the first time, and after that, it caught on. He said those seven little words whenever he could, and Gemma’s heart always melted whenever he did.

The emotions that she had pushed back in the Eberle’s dining room overwhelmed her now. Gemma didn’t know how things got so bad in the past twelve hours that she was about to collect some of her belongings from the apartment she and Mat used to share.

“Gem? Sweetie?” Lauren’s voice pulled Gemma out of her spiral. “What’s wrong?”

Gemma looked up and realized that her car was now sitting in a parking space. “Everything,” she said. “I have so many feelings and I just don’t know how to process them all.”

“Feelings about Mat?” she asked. Gemma nodded her head in response.

“Are you sure you want to do this today? We can always come back in a few days when everything has sunken in,” Lauren offered.

“It’s not about that,” Gemma snapped at her, and she immediately regretted it. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It’s not your fault.”

“I know, sweetie. You’ve been through so much in less than a day’s time.” Lauren assured her.

“I just…I don’t know how I feel about Mat. I’m obviously beyond angry with him for belittling my career, but…I think I still love him. And I hate myself for feeling that way. He made me feel like a bad girlfriend for pursuing my dreams. I should be closing the door completely, but I’m having a hard time doing that.”

“It’s completely normal to have mixed feelings about a break-up, especially since everything’s so raw right now,” Lauren said. “It doesn’t make you a bad person, Gem. You’re human.”

Gemma let that soak in for a minute. She really did feel like a bad person (not to mention a bad feminist) but, like Lauren said, she was human.

“I don’t want to overstep, but in your heart, do you think you can forgive him?” Lauren asked, then hastily added, “Not that I’m saying that is what you should do, because I don’t know what I would do if I were you, but I think you have to ask yourself if you can forgive him because you clearly still have feelings for him, and you need to consider that, too.”

Gemma didn’t answer her right away; instead, she thought long and hard. Could she forgive him for what he said? If she took the statement itself at face value, the answer was an obvious no, but there was so much more to it. Mat was so drunk that Gemma didn’t think he was particularly coherent when he said it, but she also meant what she said earlier about drunk people being more prone to saying the truth. Even if he didn’t mean it, he probably still felt that way deep down. Not to mention that Mat shouldn’t have even been drunk in the first place because it was Gemma’s birthday and he forgot about it. But they had both been so busy since the New Year, and Jordan did say that relationships are tested in this way. 

Gemma hated that she was so torn up about this, and she knew she shouldn’t even entertain the idea of taking him back. The problem was, Lauren was right: Gemma still had feelings for Mat, and she needed to sort them out before making a decision one way or another.

“If we’re talking about forgiving him right now, definitely not,” Gemma finally replied, “But if I had some space and time to think about it…I don’t know what I would do. The only thing I am sure of is that I need time to reach a proper decision.”

“And that is completely valid,” Lauren patted her shoulder. “Whatever you decide, I will fully support you, and so will Jordan and Sydney. We will always be there for you.”

“Thank you, Lauren,” Gemma unbuckled her seat belt and reached over to hug her.

“Of course,” Lauren said, “Now, do you want to go to the apartment or go to a store and pick up a bikini there?”

“I would rather leave, but I left my passport and a few other really important things there in my haste last night, so we should go get them,” she replied. Gemma couldn’t believe she was so stupid as to leave behind her passport, but it was in the safe, so she forgot. At least she had been wearing the Tiffany heart necklace her mother let her take with her to college; Gemma’s dad had originally given it to her mom.

“Yeah, you should really get that back. Let’s go.” They each opened their respective car doors and shut them, and walked to the apartment building, Lauren’s arm slung around Gemma’s shoulders.

When they reached the apartment door, Gemma’s hands shook as she took the keys out of her backpack.

“Do you want me to…?”

“No, I’ve got it. Thanks, though,” Gemma quickly added. She found her keys, put them in the lock, and turned them to open the door.

The living room looked exactly as she left it, but when she walked into the bedroom, Gemma’s heart sank. Her green TCD sweatshirt was rumpled up on Mat’s side of the bed, as if he had been wearing it or holding it during the night.

Lauren took one look at the sweatshirt and knew exactly what to say to distract her. “Where are your bikinis?” she asked.

“In the wardrobe over there,” Gemma pointed to her left, “Top drawer. I’m going to go in the closet to find my passport.”

“Got it,” she said.

Gemma walked to the door next to the wardrobe and opened it. One of the perks of this apartment was the walk-in closet. She ignored her dresses and his suit jackets, dress shirts, and pants hanging side by side and made a beeline for the safe, which was hidden in the back of the closet. Gemma opened it and felt around inside the safe for her passport. She found the passport and pulled it out, but when she looked at it, she realized that her triskelion necklace was tangled in the passport cover. Gemma smiled for the first time today. She thought she had lost the necklace because it had been missing for months.

While Gemma was on her semester abroad at TCD, she, Annie, and a bunch of their other friends went to the Cliffs of Moher on a weekend trip. Before they went to the Cliffs, though, they visited Poll na mBrón, a Neolithic portal tomb in the Burren, a predominantly rocky area nearby. Near the site of the tomb, a man was selling handcrafted authentic silver Celtic symbol pendants on necklaces at a reasonable price, so Gemma took a look. She was immediately drawn to the triskelion, which has three spirals, and she asked Annie if she knew what it meant. Annie replied that it meant many things and ran through the list, but when she said one of the meanings was “past, present, and future,” Gemma knew it was the one she wanted.

It seemed like her triskelion necklace had come back to her when she needed it most. Gemma ran her fingers over the grooves in each of the three spirals. She had originally chosen this symbol because as a history major, she believed that the past, present, and future are all connected, but the symbol gained a more personal meaning over time. The triskelion reminded Gemma of how far she had come, and that while it was important to remember her past, it did not have to define her or her future.

“Gemma, where are you?” Lauren called, snapping her out of her reverie. She turned around and saw Lauren enter the closet. “What are you doing? Do you have everything you need in here?”

“Yeah, I actually just found my Celtic symbol necklace. I thought I had lost it,” she said, failing to mention the triskelion was actually a Neolithic symbol that was later adopted by the Celts. Gemma was afraid that she bored people when she went off on tangents about history, so she forced herself to not talk about it too much with others. The only people she talked to without reserve were her mom, Annie, and Mat. Well, not Mat anymore.

“It’s so pretty! Did you get that on your semester abroad?”

“Thanks! Yeah, I bought it near the Cliffs of Moher. Would you mind putting it on for me?” Gemma said as she closed the safe and locked it.

“Of course,” Lauren responded, and Gemma stood up, the necklace and passport in her hand. Gemma gave her the necklace and turned around, holding her hair up while Lauren clasped the chain around her neck. Gemma grabbed the pendant and realized that she felt whole again.

“Maybe I should grab a few more pairs of shoes, t-shirts, and sweaters,” she said, thinking about the wacky upcoming weather forecast.

“Already beat you to it. I picked a few and put them on the bed. Except for the shoes, of course,” Lauren replied.

“You know me so well,” Gemma said, and the two of them walked back out into the bedroom, but not before Gemma spotted and grabbed two of her larger overnight bags near the front of the closet. She wasn’t surprised to find on the bed every piece of clothing she had been thinking of taking, so she simply gave Lauren a high five and shoved everything into one of the overnight bags.

“Which bikini do you want?” Lauren asked, pointing to the only pile left on the bed. Gemma examined the bikinis and narrowed it down to a navy and white polka dot set or a sunshine yellow bikini that was a little more revealing and had a removable halter so that she didn’t get tan lines.

“Which one should I take?” she turned around, holding one bikini in each hand, but Lauren was on the floor closing up Gemma’s bag instead of standing next to her. Lauren quickly stood up and pointed to the yellow bikini.

“That one. It gives off happy vibes,” she said, and Gemma couldn’t help but agree. She put it down on the bed, grabbed the other bikinis, and shoved them into the top drawer before returning to her chosen bikini. Gemma knelt down on the floor in front of her bag and opened it, only to find the sweatshirt that had been on Mat’s side of the bed inside the bag. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the sweatshirt’s presence in her bag felt wrong. She took it out, packed the bikini, and zipped up the bag before standing up and putting the sweatshirt back on the bed by Mat’s pillow.

“I don’t want Mat to know I was here,” she told Lauren, “So I’ll take it back another time.”

“Good point,” Lauren agreed. “It just felt weird to see it there.”

She knew what Lauren left unsaid: she thought it was weird that Mat had been clearly cuddling the sweatshirt because it smelled like Gemma. Gemma thought so, too, until she saw the sweatshirt in her bag. Seeing it there made her realize that keeping her sweatshirt was Mat’s way of grieving, and despite still being angry with him, Gemma wasn’t going to judge him for it. She knew it was twisted, but she felt a little better knowing that he missed her.

“Totally” was all Gemma said out loud in response. “I’m just going to grab some books from the shelf in the living room, and then we can go,” she added.

“Okay, take your time,” Lauren replied.

Gemma grabbed the two overnight bags and walked out of the bedroom into the main living space. She put down the bag with the clothes and took the empty bag over to the bookshelf. Without even thinking, she took all of the books in the Shadowhunter Chronicles series by Cassandra Clare off the shelf and put them in the bag. She loved those books to death and was not going to leave them behind. Gemma analyzed the bookshelf for a few moments before grabbing a few history books and some classics, including Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte and Persuasion by Jane Austen, and shoved them into the bag before zipping it shut.

“Shit, Gem, I don’t know how you just did that, but you picked all those books in less than four minutes,” Lauren said, amazed.

“What can I say? I love my books. Let’s get out of here.”

Gemma picked up the bag with all of the books inside, and she staggered from the sheer weight of the bag. She tried to pick up the clothing bag, but Lauren put up a hand.

“Let me take the other bag,” Lauren insisted.

“Thanks.”

She and Lauren walked out of the apartment. Gemma tried to control the tremors in her hands while she locked up, but she wasn’t fully successful. 

The car ride back to the Eberle’s house was short and silent, and before Gemma knew it, Lauren parked her car in their driveway. Gemma grabbed her bags out of the back seat and followed Lauren to the front door.

“Okay,” Lauren said as they entered the house, “I’m going to get changed for the pool party. Let’s aim to be out of here in ten minutes?”

“Sounds good,” Gemma replied, and they headed off to their respective rooms.

Gemma moved like a hurricane as soon as she shut the door to the guest room. She grabbed her bikini, a pair of cut-off denim shorts, and an old t-shirt she could put in the washing machine and changed in record time. As she slid on her flip-flops, Gemma decided to respond to Mat’s text.

She sat down on the bed and started writing. After much revision, she finally settled on the following text: “I need space. Give me until Monday to think everything over, and I’ll let you know what I’ve decided. P.S. this is NOT a break: my life is not going to turn into the Ross and Rachel show.”

The last sentence was a last-minute addition. Gemma was still leaning towards giving him the boot once and for all in five days, but she didn’t want him sleeping with someone else if she somehow decided to forgive him.

Gemma heard three knocks on the door and Lauren’s voice: “Gemma, are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” she said, grabbing her backpack and opening the door. Mat could mope all he wanted, but Gemma was done moping. She was going to go to Sydney’s house, have fun with her friends, and try to forget about him, even if it only lasted for a little while.

@averytiredlawstudent @star-adorned @theforevermorereject

[innocentlynj]

The Very First Time

Pairing:  Reader + Kim Namjoon (F X M)

Genre: one shot 

Warnings: smut (mostly fluff) 

Word count: 2400+

ignore how many times I had to censor a word because tumblrs a bitch. 

He had tried to make everything perfect, literally down to the detail. But how couldn't he, you were the love of his life and he only wanted the best for you?

Today was the day he was going to give himself to you, you already losing your first time to a possessive ex in the past. His nerves were on end with wild thought running through his head. Was he going to be good enough? What if he couldn't please you? What if... His thoughts were interrupted from a ding of his phone. He opened up the Snapchat app and smiled as a picture of you flashed across the screen, putting a smile on his face before taking a screenshot of you as he always does and takes a quick picture of himself.

He smiles to himself again at the thought of how perfect you are in his eyes. He knows that some fans haven't been the best to you but he also saw the real fans in their support and constant love and acceptance he gave your guys relationship. He sat down on the floor, careful not to ruin the freshly made bed that had the slight smell of his cologne that he knew you loved so well by the way you would hug him just a little tighter to smell him more.

He flipped through the playlist he made for this, being the hopeless romantic he is, and the sound of soft music flowed the air like silk against skin, piano, and violin working harmoniously together.  He nodded to himself, satisfied with the scene in front of him. He heard a small knock on the door, but not any knock. The knock that you both made for each other as a secret and also as an inside joke. Yours was to the song "The Ballad of Mona Lisa" by Panic at the Disco since he knew how much you loved them, almost as much as you loved his group of BTS, and his being "Flower Cafe" By Jooheon Changkyun. He got up in a flash to answer the door as he took in your appearance, a blush creeping onto his skin.

You were dressed in almost the simplest outfit, in a long-sleeved black tee and fitting jeans and sunglasses to hide your appearance from the press. To Namjoon, you were absolutely stunning and took his breath away. You smiled brightly at him as he let you into his dorm but the other boys were out, for specific reasons. You unloaded your bag and scarf onto the nearest coat rack and are quick to wrap your arms around your beloved boyfriend of now 3 years. You both started dating after you finally got you and your friend into a fan sign after, possibly, buying 200 albums to actually get there. It was an effort but you are so glad you did it, because there you both locked eyes and it was an unspeakable connection that you two had shared, and continue to share to this very day.

"I missed you." The first words spoke since you arrived that were uttered from the very tall man hugging you tightly to him as if he was afraid you were going to slip away from him. You giggled and hugged him tightly back.

"I missed you too Aein" (sweetheart) You say softly as you softly inhale is scent and shut your eyes in comfort. That's when you heard the soft music playing and the smell of food in the atmosphere. "Wait, did you cook? And the fire department isn't here?" You joked as you looked around for any sign of a fire. He chuckled at you and rolled his eyes.

"No, I had Jin Hyung help me out with all this. I can't even cut an onion." He joked and hugged you from behind as you looked at all the food prepared for you two. You had lost a lot of weight before meeting Namjoon, being very depressed and just stopped eating which he helped you with later in the relationship, mostly due to the fact that he didn't know. You had gotten to the healthy side of life, but still some thickness in areas but he loved it on you. Your eyes watered slightly at such the amazing gesture and he cupped your face and turned you around to face him and kissed you gently on the lips. "Let's eat!"

After you both ate a little bit, him mostly knocking things over and him being his usual clumsy self but something was a little off with him, but you really couldn't put your finger on it, nor did you want to assume things. He took a deep breath and put on a huge grin, dimples shining through slightly as his eyes glittered in the light with happiness. He pulled something from his pocket and your heart skipped a beat.

"Y/N. I know we've been dating for the past three years now, so this is long past due, but I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to marry you in the future, but being with BTS takes up a lot of time and I know it is stressful for you sometimes. So until I am able to put an engagement ring on that finger, I want to give you this." The entire speech your heart filled with joy and your eyes filled with tears. He opened the box and held out the prettiest promise ring you have ever seen. It must have cost a lot, but honestly, he could have given you a ring pop and you would have been happy with the thought. "S-So," he stuttered slightly and honestly it was adorable and pure. "Will you be my forever?"

Of course, you nodded and got up quickly and kissed him passionately. When you pulled away he slid the ring on your finger. He looked up at you with love in his eyes and you looked back with the same about of love for him. You cupped his cheek and looked at the features of his face, almost studying it. 3 years ago you would have never envisioned yourself in this position but here you are, staring at the face of Kim Namjoon and him staring at you with so much love that you never felt with anyone else before. His eyes moved from your eyes to your lips and they looked back at you with the slight definition of lust. He gently grabbed the back of your hair and pulled you down to kiss him. As your lips connected, there was something different about this kiss that you ever felt before. The fireworks you heard people talk about were there. You had never felt them, kissing people only felt like lips touching but with Namjoon the hairs on your arms stood up on end.

Namjoon could feel it too as he slightly hissed into the kiss and pulled you close to him and onto his lap. You gratefully wrapped your arms around his neck and played with the hair close to the nape of his neck and tugged gently, earning a low moan from his lips that were working against yours in sync. This sent a twist of emotions to your stomach and made you do it again but a little more gently, just to stimulate him. He growled softly and picked you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he moved you both to his bedroom, the food forgotten (for now, never let good food go to waste tf?) A slightly giggle left your lips as you left small kisses on his neck until he laid you on his bed. The air smelled of him, and the soft music was only slightly louder in here. Everything looked perfect, almost a little too perfect like he had stressed over this, and then you remembered that this would be his first time, ever. You suddenly got nervous and sat up.

"Baby, are you sure you want to do this?" You say as he steps towards you and kneels in front of you.

"Yes. I can't think of anyone I would rather do this within my life." Namjoon said and smiled softly, brushing his thumb across your cheek and searching for your expression. "Are you sure you want to do this? I know your first time wasn't the best but-" You cut him off by kissing his hand gently.

"I want you. And only you. Forever." You say and brush the hair out of his face slightly. He smiles and reconnects your lips and you both crawl back the headboard where the pillows are and he places his hand on your hip, the other supporting his weight above you. He slides his hand down to your thigh and very slowly to your heater core, almost afraid to touch you as you were a soft petal that would break.

"Is this okay?" He pulls away breathlessly, his fingers feathering over your core as he looks you in the eyes. You nod and kiss him again, sliding your hands up the back of his shirt and to his shoulders as he applied pressure, earning a soft moan from you. It made Namjoon happy to hear you make such beautiful noises, as he wanted to make sure you feel as good as he was in the moment. You slowly pulled off his shirt and touched his bare chest and looked at him.

"You are..so perfect." You say to him and he gets shy, smiling and burring his face into your neck and giggling, making you giggle and when he pulls away from you both just look at each other and start giggling as he kisses you again, slowly nipping and licking his way to your neck. You hear him mumble a soft "Is this okay?" Your breathing had picked up, leaving you only in short outtakes as you nod again. You were touched that he kept asking for your permission with everything, being a gentleman. After your nod you felt him gently nip on your skin, sucking and biting his way through a few hickeys on your neck to even darker and bigger hickeys.

Your moans were his encouragement to continue as he slowly pulled off your shirt and jeans, leaving you in only your undergarments. He blushed a deep red at the sight of you in front of him; breathing heavily by his doing, the hickeys on your neck that were just starting to form, your hair sprawled out around you making you look like an angel, and the sexy appeal of seeing what very little has seen (including friends and immediate family bc Idk about you but my mom doesn't know what knocking is). You blushed and started to cover yourself when he removed your hands and kissed your stomach. 

"아름다운." (beautiful) He said and pulled off his pants, leaving him in only his boxers. you took this opportunity to slowly unhook your bra and watch as his face went to a face of shock as he looked at you. He gulped slightly and looked you in the eyes and smiled shyly, like a kid finding seeing mommy kissing Santa under the mistletoe. He slightly lunged towards you and kissed you with such lust it sent your whole body into a sensitive shock as he gently gripped your right br*ast and looked at you, "Is this okay?"

You had to laugh softly, as he asked at least 3 times this entire time. You cup his face and forced him to look at you. "Yes, I am okay. You don't have to keep asking my love. I want you. All of you." With this, most of Namjoon's nerves left and he gently rolled your n*pple between his fingers, sending shocks throughout your body as a low moan left your parted lips. The rest of the clothes were soon discarded and Namjoon reached for the condom in the bedside table, accidentally knocking over one of the speakers as he cursed to himself. You giggled slightly at his clumsy state as he finally got a condom, after breaking the box and spilling the rest of them out. He let out a small nervous chuckle. He ripped the condom with his long finger and then looked at it slightly and breathed heavily as his shaky hands tried to roll the condom on his thick cock of his.

This was the first time you were able to take in his size and it took your breath away. The daze you were in snapped and you saw him struggling and you smiled softly.

"Baby let me help." You say and you roll the condom on him after licking your hand and rubbing it over his dick a few times to lucubrate it, smirking when a few moans and curses left his mouth. When it was on you pushed him gently to the bed and got on top of him. "Let me take care of you, baby." You say softly slide yourself onto him as you both groan in pleasure. It was a little painful at first due to his size but within a few minutes, that uncomfortable pressure was replaced with a pleasure that spread slowly throughout your entire body.

Namjoon grit his teeth and hissed through them, gripping your waist with his long slender fingers tightly that left slight marks.

"Y/N if you don't move soon I might go crazy." He muttered through his teeth and he opened his eyes that had found themselves closed and looked into your eyes. They showed pure love and passion. You felt a soft moan leave your lips just at the look alone he was boring onto you. You slowly started moving, sliding up and down on his dick as his hands guided him down onto his dick, leaving groans and stuttering curses in Korean from his lips. The effect you had on him turned you on more than the small foreplay that you shared before. You picked up your pace a bit and placed your hands on his toned chest and his hands slowly found their way to your ass, gripping the skin tightly and moved with every bounce you made.

His eyes had fluttered closed once again you looked down at his angelic face, scrunched in focus and in pleasure. The sight below you was one to make your heart flutter with love. You leaned down and placed a kiss upon his lips, receiving a kiss in return and a moan as you gently bit his lip and tug it gently between your teeth. He looked up at you and the grip on your ass tightened and he started to pull you down on his thick cock faster and more hard than your pace, making you cry out a moan and nuzzle your face into his neck.

Namjoon saw the effect he had on you and brought one hand up and between you and started rubbing your clit in lazy circles, pushing you closer to your edge.

"J-joonie," You managed to stutter out in a haze of pleasure

"I know jagiya, I'm-" He was cut off by the wave of pleasure that overwhelmed him at the moment and he stuttered slightly. His fingers worked faster against your cl*t, making sure you were feeling as good as he was, but honestly, you couldn't feel more love and pleasure at this moment.

With a final thrust, you both reached your climax and you rolled off of him gently and laid next to him, breathless. The only thing in the air was the sound of the soft music and you both heavily breathing, but it was music to both of your ears. You looked up at him and smiled, kissing him gently and cuddling into him and pushed some hair out of his face.

"Did you like it?" You ask at the breathing angel in front of you as he locks eye with you.

"I think I went to heaven being with you." He flirts and you giggle, kissing his shoulder softly. He started tracing shapes on your back as your eyes drooped from being tired. "Sleep, my love. I will wake you up in the morning." He said and kissed your forehead. You moaned in acknowledgment muttered a small,

"사랑해"

Namjoon smiled at your sleeping form. "I love you too Y/N"

[hispeculiartreasure]

Don’t Wanna Fall - S.R.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2,000

Genre: Angst angst angst angst angst

Setting: Immediately after Infinity War, preceding Endgame.

AN: I am . . . so deeply sorry for this. I’ve been in a melancholy funk for a few days and listening to my Johnnyswim playlist on a loop hasn’t helped. This was inspired by their song “Wicked Game”. Borrowed lyrics appear in italics/ If you haven’t heard it before, go listen to it first. It really sets the mood. This just wouldn’t stay in my heart so I’m making you all suffer with me.

In a split second, the world had imploded. Every single person’s life changed at the snap of a finger. No one would ever be the same.

After the day where everyone lost everything, you threw yourself into your work. You saw a need and had a desperation to be occupied at every second of the day.

People needed to grieve and grief had never been seen on this high of a global scale. Your nonprofit - what was left of it - began coordinating therapy worldwide. You hunted down therapists and counselors that were still living, trained willing volunteers. Support groups, individual sessions, you made it all happen. You fought tooth and nail to make it happen.

Everyone who walked in and out of your doors looked hollow, yet determined. Determined to find something meaningful in the aftermath. Then again, each person had lost someone. Including your staff, including yourself. Your whole operation depended on broken people helping broken people.

The world was on fire, no one could save me but you.

People around you tried to beckon you back out, mentioned you hadn’t been yourself. You laughed in their faces. Who could be themselves after this? You couldn’t help but think that person had died along with the other half of the world. What was the point? It was easier to love no one, to remain independent, to keep everyone at arm's length. That way you could at least pretend the remaining pieces of you could live on.

But then there was Steve.

I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you.

He was good - straight down to his bones, he was good. He was kind. He was clever. He was haunted. For all his strength, he was gentle. For all he had in his mind, he was thoughtful. Still waters ran miles deep and it was too tempting not to explore the open seas.

The last session of the week is the one where you allow yourself to move from employee to participant. You knew you needed it, you begrudgingly sat through it. Your heart was no less shattered than anyone else’s here.

That’s where you met him. He was barely recognizable with his shaggy hair and beard that disguised his features. Without fail, he was always early. The previous session hadn’t quite ended, so he loitered by the door, watching, observing. He watches as you finish your duties, as you take your staff lanyard off and subtly transition into group member.

He finds himself sitting by you every Saturday evening. Both of you were among the quieter ones in the group. Mainly listening. Finding solace in not being the only one overcome by the grief.

Weeks pass. During a break you stand near each other in companionable silence, sipping on the instant coffee you’d prepared hours ago.

“Who did you lose?” he asks, soft enough to make you question if you’d heard it in the first place.

You take another drag of the bitter drink. “Everyone,” you whisper, void of emotion. “You?” From the corner of your eye you can see him still staring straight ahead.

“Enough.” You share a nod of sympathy as the leader beckons the group to take their seats again.

He lingers as the group disperses, thinking he was watching you covertly. He wasn’t.

You take down signs, Steve offers to help you stack chairs. You gather your folders into your briefcase before shutting off the lights. You never question Steve’s hovering. In a strange way you understood why he was still here. You’re glad he was still here.

“Wanna grab a drink?” He nods in relief, following you down the street to an old haunt.

Sitting at the bar together, there is very little discussion. Both of you were tired of talking about the feelings and thoughts that consumed you. For some reason, your souls recognized a kinship in each other. You felt seen by him, a feeling later he confirmed was reciprocated.

His hand covers yours on the surface of the bar, gently squeezing.

I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you.

Somehow you end up on the front porch of your home, Steve by your side.

Eyes flicker to his, finding that searching look reflected. You lean close, resting your forehead to his shoulder. This isn’t healthy, you think. Steady arms encircle you, a nose nuzzles the top of your head. This is wrong. His lips are inches from yours, waiting for you to close the gap. This will only lead to hurt.

This one would only break you.

You didn’t care. You needed to feel something. Anything. He did too. That much you knew.

It’s strange what desire makes foolish people do.

The pair of you stumble through your living room, mouths insistent, needy on each other. Leaping into Steve’s embrace, he takes you into the hall. Past framed photos, past a more vibrant you in a white dress, a man in a tuxedo gazing down at you adoringly. Past faces you know you’ll never see again. Past a you that had happiness. He angles toward what he assumes is the master suite, resting your back against the closed door for a moment to kiss down your jaw, peppering your throat with affection.

He twists the doorknob, drawing you back to the moment. “No,” you breathe. He freezes, leaning back to assess your meaning. Had he been wrong? Was this not what you wanted? “Down the hall.” Fervor is back in your veins, reviving in his. Shuffling toward the guest room where you’d taken up residence, Steve carries you.

He carries you away from the door, from the memories. Away from the room you hadn’t touched since that horrible day. Away from the place you’d woken up, confused by the dirt in your bed, calling for your husband. Away from the spot where you’d turned the TV on, watched the news coverage. Away from the room where you’d screamed in agony at the empty spot next to you.  Away from where your husband’s ashes still mixed in with the sheets. Away from the tomb of the life that was. Away from a life that was gone.

All that matters is the man that was making you feel anything other than numb.

Morning has almost arrived when you find yourself watching Steve as he slept. Your head is propped on his shoulder, hand firmly resting over his chest. You needed the assurance of his beating heart to keep panic at bay.

Soon self-conscious - but not embarrassed - eyes rove your face. “Breakfast?” he suggests.

You weren’t here to fall in love. Neither of you were under that allusion.

But someone to shoulder this unbearable burden? Sure.

What you found together in the next weeks, months, years wasn’t quite happiness. But it was as close as you could get in the world you now lived in.

You meld into each other’s lives. You are present for each other. You are salves on the others’ heart. You find a new kind of normal. You finally face the master bedroom, you clean out old memories. You find a confidence bolstered by a man you hadn’t expected. You work hard to get better. Steve holds you as you cry. You hold him as he cries. He opens up, he bears his soul. Together you talk fondly of the ones you lost. You get to know the only people the other has left. He gets angry. He seeks you out to bring him back down to earth. You hate yourself for the hope he brings, the peace that floods your body when he’s near.

A dark, rainy night he appears on your doorstep unannounced; clean-shaven, more put-together than you’d ever seen him. Something was wrong.

“We need to talk,” his voice is deep, toneless.

The hope is throttled by dread.

You nod, allowing him to pass by you. You stand toe-to-toe behind the closed door.

He’s different. For the first time since you’ve known him, he stands tall, straight. There’s a purpose to his step, a reason glittering behind his determined gaze. Even though his jaw is set, you can sense his agitation.

“What is it, Steve?” you ask when the silence becomes too heavy.

“I’m sorry I’ve let this go on so long. We’ve reached a place where you have feelings that I just. . . don’t have. I can’t keep letting us do this when you’re going to end up hurt.”

Later you look back and wonder why you weren’t stunned. Why you didn’t rail against him, call him every name in the book, truly tear him down like you wanted. But you were calm, collected, even-keeled.

You can tell he’s lying.

You’ve come to know him too well not to tell. The twitch of an eyebrow, the shuffling of the feet. The barely-there eye-contact.

“Care to share where this is coming from?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “I’ve known for a long time. It was nice to have someone around, but I never let myself fall. I can get by on my own. And it’s not fair to you.” He reaches to scratch at scruff that isn’t there, instead moving his hand to rub his neck. “I’m sorry,” it quietly floats to you. Much like the first thing he’d ever said to you, you were only half sure he had said it.

Who did you lose?

Everyone. You?

Enough.

For some reason, he feels a need to say these things; to say that he never shared feelings you had fought for so long. You knew better. You’d felt the love in his eyes, felt it in his hands, felt it in his words.

What a wicked thing to say you never felt this way.

Your confusion dissipates when you finally pinpoint the energy he’s carrying with him.

Fear. Anxiety. Dread. Terror.

Something is about to happen, something is about to change.

As much as he’s saying he doesn’t need you. . . you know that right now the opposite is true.

“Alright,” you say much more steadily than you feel. “Do what you need to do.” You step closer, one hand reaching to rest on the back of his neck, the other tapping aimlessly over his heart. “Whatever it takes,” you murmur.

Steve knows that you know he’s lying.

He hates himself for gathering you up. He hates himself for breathing in your sweet scent. He hates himself for the blow he’s just landed. And he hates himself for staying when he told himself he would leave.

But he can’t leave, he can’t do what he’s about to do without saying goodbye to someone that has come to mean the world to him. Someone who was there for the end of his world.

He mutters your name like a prayer all night, etching you into his memory. Determined to carry you with him no matter where the next step takes him. Every possible moment you feel for his heartbeat. You memorize the pattern so it can play in your mind when you roll over to find the bed empty once again.

What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you.

You walk him to the door the next morning, feel his lips on yours one last time.

“Good luck,” you whisper against his mouth.

Those blue eyes flicker, forgetting the charade he’d started when he’d walked into your home yesterday. He wants you to hate him. Wants you to be furious, he wants to be the someone you can channel your anger toward. You only watch him, nothing but understanding on your face. “Thank you. I’m. . . I’m so sorry.” That was the only true thing he’d said since you last stood in this spot.

Nobody loves no one.

“I’m sorry too, Steve.” You squeeze his hand tightly before you swing the front door open.

Finally, tears trickle down your cheeks as you watch him walk away. Somehow you know you’ll never see him again.

You know him in his bones.

Whatever he’s set on doing, it’ll get done - no matter the cost.

[gwentoryfics]

Hot for Teacher, Part 4.

Genre | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

Pairing | Hongseok x Reader x Hyunggu (Kino)

Words | 9.8k

Summary | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

Warnings | Cursing. Masturbation. Underage drinking. Mentions of smoking. Sexist assholes. Poor choices.

Parts | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • More Coming Soon AO3   | 1 • 2 

Playlist | Spotify • Youtube

Note | Yay! First update on my new blog! Thank you as always for following and supporting me, you all have no idea how much it means to me every time I get an ask or a message. I love you all dearly. 💕 Also, I don’t currently have a playlist put together for this part but I will add links above when the playlist is ready!

You make it to the music building in record time, smoothly flashing your student ID and dashing up the stairs to the office. A somewhat familiar face sits behind the reception desk, but you can’t quite place him. He’s got dark hair that rests on his forehead, a thin nose, and a friendly smile.

“Hello, how can I help you?” He greets you as you beeline for the desk. You recognize his voice as the one you heard over the phone.

“Hi, I think you just called me? I’m _____.” You throw on a grateful smile. “I asked for those excuse card copies.”

“Ah! Right.” He picks a few papers off of his desk and holds them out to you. “Here you go.”

“Thank you so much.” You eagerly take the papers, gushing. “You have no idea how much this is going to help me.”

He laughs quietly. “Why do you need them so badly, if you don’t mind me asking? Your note sounded pretty urgent.”

You remember scribbling a note to him that may or may not have been laced with a few choice words. “Oh, sorry about my language.”

“No worries.”

“I’ve just got a professor who’s trying to make an issue of the fact that I missed a bunch of convocations last year. You know how they get.” You try to keep your explanation as vague as possible to avoid incriminating Professor Yang or yourself. Avoiding eye contact, you casually flip through the photocopies, frowning a little as they remind you exactly why you had to go home so frequently.

“Understood. Convocations are kind of a big deal. I’m glad that those copies will help.” His smile turned into a bit of a frown. “I’m sorry it took so long. They weren’t particularly easy to get access to.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You wave your hand dismissively. Sure, it had taken a little over a week (and that had resulted in you being quietly grudge-y in the back of the Physics classroom yesterday morning), but you have all of your evidence right here in your hands now. “I really appreciate you digging them up for me.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” The boy nods at you once and when he turns to his computer, you suddenly recognize his profile.

“Oh my God! Jazz band!”

His brow furrows and he laughs awkwardly. “Um, what?”

You shake your head to get your thoughts straight. “Sorry, I just realized why you look familiar. You’re the jazz band pianist!”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s me.”

A huge smile creeps across your face. You have so much admiration for the man sitting in front of you now, and you feel like an idiot for acting, well, like an idiot. “You’re such an amazing jazz pianist. It just, you’re just so good! You guys killed it at the first convocation.”

“Thank you! That really means a lot.” He easily accepts your compliment, as if he were used to being gushed over. But he doesn’t seem to be a dick about it - he’s just confident.

You explain yourself: “I play piano, too. I want to make it into jazz band next year, so I’m working really hard this year.” Why did you need to tell him that? He probably doesn’t care what a lowly sophomore like yourself dreams about.

He keeps a smile and a good attitude about it. “Ah. You know, there’s going to be a lot of competition for that seat.”

“Trust me, I know.” You’re sure that you’re far from being the best jazz pianist in the music department, but you try to stay positive. You’re at least good enough to be in the running. So why couldn’t you be the one to get the seat?

And then the pianist makes you an offer you absolutely can’t refuse: “Would you be interested in sitting in on a jazz band rehearsal sometime? I can chat with the director. I’m sure she’d let you.”

A rush of adrenaline bursts through your veins. “Really? Oh my gosh, that would be amazing. I would absolutely love that.”

“Awesome.” He smiles sweetly. “Can I save the phone number from your note? So I can get in touch with you.”

“Yes, of course. Please.” You nod a little too fervidly.

“Cool.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Changgu. It’s nice to meet you, _____.”

You shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Changgu.”

You feel surprisingly light as you make your way down the hall to Professor Yang’s office, but only because you’re now backed with proof of your innocence in the matter. Not that any of it is really that important, anyway, but you just need him to know that it was not intentional.

Well, that and the fact that you may or may not get to attend a jazz band practice. With Changgu, of all people. He’s everything you want to be - in a music sense, at least. You don’t really know much else about him. But hey, maybe you’d have the chance to get to know him a bit.

As Professor Yang’s office comes into sight, your smile fades and your steps falter. The music softly floating through the closed door catches you off guard - the sound of funk guitars and raw vocals.

It’s not just any music he’s listening to.

“Tell me something good…”

You freeze.

“Tell me that you love me, yeah…”

He is listening to the song you sang to him in the hotel that night. The song you specifically chose to set the mood. The song that, as far as you are aware, he had no knowledge of before you played it for him.

You remember coyly dancing and singing, remember the lustful look in his eyes as his gaze traveled down your swaying body. You remember the heat of his lips and the clutch of his hands - and suddenly you’re neck-deep in filthy thoughts of him.

Even worse, you can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling all of those things right now, as he’s listening to the one song that truly tethers you together.

Leaning against the wall, you try to take a deep breath and calm yourself. Your mind is racing and your heart is beating way too fast. Should you even go in there? Maybe you should just come back some other time. What would he say if you walked in on him like this?

...and then you smile the most mischievous of smiles.

What would he say, exactly, if you caught him listening to a song that had to remind him of you? Mr. Not-At-All-Affected-By-You couldn’t act all high and mighty anymore, could he?

Now that is something you’d like to witness.

Professor Yang has to still be attracted to you, at the very least. You don’t necessarily want to encourage that emotion by bursting in and making him face his feelings, but it’s all part of proving your point - that this situation wasn’t a scheme of yours, and that you’re not the only one to blame.

Taking just a moment to compose yourself, you let your lips settle into a line and you knock calmly.

The music grows quiet and Professor Yang calls out, “Come in.”

Boy is it a struggle to keep your neutral expression as you open that damned door.

And it’s even harder to stay neutral when he very visibly reacts to the fact that it is you of all people entering the room.

His eyes widen for a moment as recognition flashes across his face, and then he immediately scrambles to turn off the music completely. But you both know it’s too late for him to pretend like he wasn’t just blasting your sex music, and the acoustic guitar in his lap tells you that he was possibly even playing along.

Smugly, you say, “Good song, huh?”

Professor Yang purses his lips, not amused. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, actually.” You approach him coolly, placing your excuse cards calmly on his desk. “I brought these for you.”

He picks one up and eyes it as you take a seat across from him. “And why do I need these?”

“Because, Professor, if you’ll remember, you blatantly accused me of intentionally getting us into this mess. So now I’m back to clear my name. Clearly I was not at any convocations last semester, so I didn’t even know you existed until I saw you at the wedding.”

Rolling his eyes, he stands and places his guitar back on its stand. “Congratulations, you’ve officially taken this way further than it needed to be taken.”

“Hongseok, I’m serious. I didn’t do this to you.”

He prickles, his fox eyes pinching shut. “It’s Professor Yang.”

“Professor Yang, sorry.” It’s an honest mistake, the way his name so naturally slips past your defenses, and you hope it doesn’t set you back on your mission to reach a neutral ground with him. “I just need you to believe me.”

He picks up the cards and sits on the edge of his desk as he examines them. “You really want me to go through and match all of these dates up with the convocation dates?”

You scoff. “Obviously you don’t have to do that. The cards all specifically say that I was missing a convocation, and you can see the department head’s signature on it and everything. See?” You stand, pointing over his shoulder at the scrawled signature. You suppose that it doesn’t really look like more than a squiggle, so it could be argued that you had done it yourself, but you’ll fight as many battles as you need to. You’re going to get him to acknowledge you.

Professor Yang’s thumb swipes over the page as he reads one, then another, and another, putting the pieces together and learning the unfortunate reason why you so frequently returned home. His voice is quiet, soft, when he finally asks, “How is your family?”

Your mouth dries up. “Better. My father is in remission now.”

All of the weekends you had to go home, you were going to see your father. His stage three lung cancer made it so that you could never be sure how long he would be around. Any of those visits could have been your last. By the grace of something holy, his treatments had been successful. Hopefully it would stay that way.

Professor Yang takes a slow breath, and you can feel empathy pouring from him. “I’m glad to hear it. And I’m sorry you and your family had to go through that. Cancer is awful.” He looks down at you, his gaze warm and sincere.

As you lock eyes, you suddenly realize how close he is. You feel the heat radiating off of him, smell the familiar cologne lingering on his collar - bergamot and cardamom. Your heart pulses with desire and your throat tightens, as if he were a living, breathing aphrodisiac.

If he feels anything similar, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he just takes a step away from you, returning to the safe space behind his desk. You also step back, bumping gently into your chair and absolutely hating the way he turns you into a bumbling mess.

Professor Yang is much more considerate with your excuse card copies now, tucking them carefully away in his desk drawer. He clears his throat once and takes a seat. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

You sit, too. Sure, he had acknowledged (sort of) that the excuse cards are real. But you need him to verbalize your innocence. “Do you believe me now?”

He dismisses your question and repeats himself, a little less gentle this time. “Is there anything else?”

“Yeah, an apology.” You really shouldn’t be surprised. Of course he wouldn’t give in easily. “I’ll even settle for you admitting that you believe me when I say I had no idea who you were when we met.”

Professor Yang rolls his eyes in a rather childish manner, but damn it if there isn’t something hot about his irritation. “Fine. I believe you. Is that all?”

You know you shouldn’t ask; you shouldn’t string those words into an audible question. But, naive little thing you are, you do. “Why were you listening to that song?”

“It’s a good song,” he calmly answers, still looking away from you. You can sense that there’s certainly more to it than that, but you do believe that he does genuinely like the song.

“It is,” you murmur. You should really stop and leave it at that, but you can’t stand to let the air between you grow quiet. So you press on. “And you’re learning to play it?”

“Yes.”

Stop. Leave it there.

“What do you usually play on guitar? I know you’re not really into funk that much.” Your mouth runs all on its own.

Professor Yang doesn’t verbally respond - he just stares at you with a warning deep in his eyes.

But you can’t stop. Your anxious blabbermouth has taken hold and is making you ramble. “You like rock, right? I think you told me that, you know, when we-”

“Stop. Please, just stop.” Professor Yang cuts you off, shutting you up more effectively than your own brain could. “Don’t try to talk to me about that night. I don’t want to have that conversation.”

You blush hard, embarrassed by the foolish route your mouth had taken you. “Okay, then let’s just talk about music. Who do you like?”

“I don’t want to talk about that, either. I don’t want to talk about anything with you, _____.” His gaze hardens. “I think it’s best that we don’t have any sort of relationship outside of the classroom.”

“Even small talk is off the table? It’s just a simple question.”

“Nothing is simple with you. If this were simple, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“Answer the question and I’ll leave.” It’s a stupid bargain. It’s all so stupid. But at this point you feel like you have to make this conversation go somewhere, simply to save yourself from your embarrassment.

He purses his lips, considering whether he should give into you or not. Eventually he says, “Van Halen. Pink Floyd. The Rolling Stones. AC/DC.”

You nod stiffly, but you’re pleased that he responded at all. “Any Aerosmith?”

“Some of their early stuff.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I think that’s enough questions.”

You keep blabbing, almost like you don’t really want to leave. “You know, I went through an Aerosmith phase when I was a kid. Found my dad’s records and thought it was the best thing in the world.”

“Can we please be done here? I would like for you to leave.”

As you stand from your seat, you can’t help but feel the urge to lift some of the tension with humor, embarrassing though it may be. In an awkward imitation of Steven Tyler, you sing some of the lyrics from one of the most well-known Aerosmith songs - and of course, you throw in just a touch of air guitar. “Sing for me, sing for the years / Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears…”

And then, it all pays off as Professor Yang very visibly struggles to hold back a smile. He shakes his head, trying to regain his composure, but his voice is light as he says, “Nope. Get out.”

You start backing towards the door, but you keep up your act and go all-out for the biggest part of the song. “Dream on! Dream on! Dream on!”

“Oh my God,” he laughs, unable to hold it in anymore. He stands, chasing you out. “Get out of here! Go!”

As you hurry out the door, you jump up two octaves so you’re practically squealing, “Dream on! Dream on!”

All you get in response is a loud NO as he closes the door on you, but you still giggle. It’s so relieving to see him not pissed at you for once.

You smile to yourself. Absolutely worth it.

“I’ve got a quick question for ya. Maybe two, depending on your answer to the first.” Nailah hands you another freshly-cleaned dish to dry before dunking her hands back into the sink.

She is a fabulous cook and always makes sure to make enough dinner for both of you - as long as you help with cleanup and grocery shopping. You’ve offered multiple times to handle the cleanup entirely on your own, since the current arrangement still isn’t fair. But Nailah always insists that she can’t let you do it all by yourself.

“Sure, what is it?” You towel dry the mixing bowl and tuck it into a cabinet just in time to grab a clean plate from her.

“Are you friends with any Music Comp students?”

“Yeah, I know a few.”

“Do any of them have an interest in film scoring?”

You realize why she’s asking. “You need some music for a film?”

“Mhm.” She hums, scrubbing roughly at the cutting board in her hand.

“What’s this one about?”

“Well it’s not exactly a whole film, it’s just a scene for my directing class. The overall story is about a young woman who’s struggling to deal with the trauma of her past, and how that’s affecting her self-image as a queer woman.” Nailah rinses the cutting board and hands it off to you, looking dramatically off into the distance as she explains the story. “In this scene, she’s torn. She wants - craves - physical intimacy with her love interest, but she’s riddled with the guilt and shame that’s been instilled in her since she was a child.”

“That sounds exactly like something you would make.” You smile and dry off her hands, now that she’s done washing.

“Well, I am me.”

Nailah has always been open about her queerness since you met her last year. The day that you moved in, she was completely honest with you about her preferences and assured you that she wouldn’t hit on you or make you uncomfortable - she must have assumed that you might be bigoted, seeing as how you’re from such a small town. But believe it or not, you’re actually a decent human being who doesn’t give two shits about whether or not your roommate is lesbian.

Honestly, the weirdest part about your living arrangement is the age difference between you. Normally freshmen wouldn’t be assigned a room with a sophomore, but that’s how it worked out. Regardless of your ages, the two of you immediately struck up a friendship; you couldn’t have asked for a better roommate.

She squeezes your hands as a thank-you and takes off towards her desk, releasing her braids from the bun atop her head. “You didn’t answer my question, by the way.”

Right! You think for only a second, and a name immediately comes to mind. “You remember my friend Shinhye, right? She came over once or twice last semester.”

Nailah nods, stashing some supplies into her backpack and preparing to head out for class. “She’s in comp?”

“Yeah, and she’s really good. I don’t know if she’s ever done film stuff before, but I can ask.”

She shakes her head curtly. “I’ll ask. It’s more professional that way. Can I get her number from you?”

“Of course.” You get your phone out to read off Shinhye’s number (does anyone memorize phone numbers anymore?), and Nailah saves the contact info.

“You’re the best.” She pulls on her bomber jacket and slips into her combat boots. No matter how casually she dresses, she always manages to look fashionable. You may or may not be a little jealous of her look from time to time.

“You’ve got that right.”

Nailah snorts, rolling her eyes. “I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun!” You call after her, and you hear the door close as she exits for her night class.

You take it upon yourself to tidy up the kitchen area a little more, wiping down the stove and limited counter space. The kitchen is pretty small (you were still technically in a dorm apartment, after all), but you are lucky to have an apartment-style dorm in the first place. It is the perfect little space for you and Nailah, and you love the view you got every evening at sunset.

As you finish your cleaning, you feel your phone buzz multiple times in your pocket - it’s a series of texts from your cousin, Minseo.

Minseo, 6:54pm: Jiyoo finally put the wedding photos up on social, check it out! Minseo, 6:54pm: Honestly we looked so good. Minseo, 6:55pm: And so did your groomsman ;D Minseo, 6:55pm: How’s that going btw??

You groan. The last thing you need is to see him in that tux again, to see him on the exact night you stripped each other naked and screwed each other senseless. It’s a terrible idea to look at those photos and relive the night all over again.

But… despite your better judgment, you pop open your laptop and resign yourself to the bittersweet memories.

There are multiple photos that you don’t even remember taking during the reception, including one of you with the bride, her luxurious bouquet in your hand. But as much as you want to linger and admire your makeup and dress, your heart wants something else.

Hongseok shines brighter than anyone in the wedding party photos, his gorgeous smile drawing your eyes right to him. He looks just as handsome as you remember, with those sharp eyes and plush lips. And damn that tux fits him just right.

Your mind is filled with memories of that night, and you can’t help but notice the low burn of desire deep within you. You desperately needed to feel that good again… and Nailah just left for class, so you have the room to yourself for a while...

You slip into your shared bedroom and close the door (just in case). Luxuriously, you lay yourself back onto your bed, fingers sliding up beneath your shirt to cup your breasts as you remember his touch.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think that you really shouldn’t be enabling your lustful attraction by masturbating to the thought of him, but at the forefront of your mind you honestly don’t care. A little fantasy never hurt anybody.

All you can think about is the warm press of his lips and the sheer strength of him - and the way he made love to you like nobody ever has. He filled you perfectly, and you long to feel the stretch of his cock in you again.

Hastily, you kick off your jeans and shove your panties down your hips, pleased to find your folds already slick with arousal. Just the mere thought of him has you so worked up - you can hardly stand the pure want that you feel, like he is a drug you’re addicted to.

You let your hands and your mind wander, your fingers rediscovering every curve and fold of your body, your thoughts drifting into dangerous territory as you fantasized...

What would the look on his face be if you dared to wear a sheer shirt to class one day?

Or better yet, if you conveniently forgot to slip on a bra?

He’d be furious of course, because it’s simply not fair for you to be looking so deliciously sexy when you both know he can’t do anything about it.

Maybe he would do something about it.

And what would he do if you burst into his office with no panties under your dress, just like that night? Your arousal dripping down your legs, the scent of your sex filling the small room and driving him to madness.

Maybe he’d do something about it then, too.

You would never, never, do any of those things. You’re not that kind of girl; you don’t flirt with - or seduce - your teachers. The consequences are much too great.

But… what if?

This is the only time you let yourself really consider the outcomes of those fantasies, the only time you can truly indulge in the pleasure you get just from looking at him.

You’re absolutely overcome with need for him as your fingers dive into your slit, curling against your favorite spot. The only thing you want is to feel his rough fingers instead of your own, to wrap your mouth around the girth of his cock and hear him fucking moan.

You whimper softly as your fingers ravage your hole, your thoughts geared solely on the mental image of him shirtless and glowing with sweat. You want to lick each drop off of him, want to bite his gorgeously soft lips, want to ride him so good that he can’t help but fill you with his cum.

It’s so easy to remember the way his hair fell in his face as he pounded into you, the intensity with which his eyes pierced yours with each thrust. God, he is the sexiest man to ever exist and the memory of screwing him pushes you over the edge.

Frighteningly fast, you reach your climax. Your chest tightens and warms as you explode with pleasure, wetness spurting forcefully past your fingers. For a moment, you imagine that it might be his hot, sticky cum dripping out of you, his seed coating your walls and making you feel beautifully filthy.

As your orgasm plays out, you lay there in ecstasy - but it’s bittersweet. Melancholic, even. Because you know you’ll never be able to experience it for real ever again.

And then the fog lifts.

The ecstasy fades, and you realize that you were just fantasizing about having unprotected sex with your teacher.

Not only had you fantasized about it, but you actually squirted as you thought about him.

...and damn, was it hot to think about him completely raw inside of you.

You’re not that kind of girl.

And you really shouldn’t let yourself get carried away like that. Because if you know anything about yourself, it’s that if you allow yourself to consider something even a little bit, you may actually end up acting on it. That’s exactly how you got into this mess in the first place.

So this is the last time you’ll let yourself consider it.

After you take a moment to calm down and make peace with your decision, you roll up your dirty sheets and take a quick shower. Once you’ve taken your sheets downstairs to the laundry room, you call Shinhye, looking for a distraction.

“Yello?” Shinhye answers almost right away.

“Hey. What are you up to this weekend?”

“Procrastinating, probably. Why, you got something planned?”

“We should find a party. I feel like I want to get slammed.”

Shinhye doesn’t respond immediately. “Is Nailah coming?”

“I haven’t said anything to her. Why?”

“She seems cool. You should bring her.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You chuckle, remembering that Nailah called her earlier. “So start scouring campus for parties and let’s get wasted.”

“Hey, short stuff.”

You look up from your notes as Wooseok enters the practice room, only a few minutes late to your tutoring session. He was late last week, too. But you’re not the type to hold it against him, though, so you just shoot him a smile. “Hey.”

His hair is parted off to the side today, and it really suits him. He shrugs off his jean jacket and pulls up a seat across from you. “Those flashcards we worked on last week have been super helpful. But honestly, I’m still pretty slow at identifying the pitches.”

“That’s okay. It takes time.” You reassure him. “You’ll get it.”

After meeting with him for the first tutoring session last week, you discovered that he’s a surprisingly good pupil. He picks up on the concepts quickly, but the real issue is that he has trouble with retention. Hence, the flashcard and memorization exercises.

You spend the next forty minutes or so going over his theory homework and reviewing chord structures. Wooseok does well, but you can tell when he hits a wall and has to stop. The two of you call it quits and start packing up.

“Have you thought at all about how you’d like me to repay my debt to you?” He teases as he zips up his backpack. The smirk on his lips is so casual. What a natural flirt he is.

You ignore the suggestive look he’s giving you - you’re positive he’s just joking around. But he’s right, he does owe you since you’ve been helping him. You haven’t given it much thought, though. “I haven’t come up with anything yet, but I’ll let you know when I do.”

“Whatever you want,” Wooseok shoots a wink your way, and you laugh.

“Stop that! It’s not going to be like that, so calm yourself.”

He chuckles and pulls on his jean jacket, picking up his backpack and returning his chair to its original place in the room. “Suit yourself, little lady.”

Little lady? Short stuff? Where are all of these nicknames coming from? “You know I’m not actually that small. You’re just a giant.”

“I’m not actually that tall, you’re just bitty.” Wooseok playfully mocks you.

“Wow, I never thought of that,” you respond, sarcasm dripping from your words.

“And she’s got sass, too!” With an easy smile, he leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he waits for you. You respond childishly by sticking your tongue out at him, which earns you a bout of his bright laughter.

Once you’ve got your things together, you both head out. You don’t have too far to go, though, since your piano lesson is in about fifteen minutes. Wooseok walks down the hall with you.

���Any plans this weekend?” He asks, making small talk.

“Nothing set yet. You?”

“Just the usual, I guess. My roommate and I are throwing a party tomorrow night, so I’m guessing we’ll spend the rest of the weekend recovering.”

“You’re having a party?” His plans immediately catch your attention - and you knew exactly how to get your friends and yourself invited. “Okay, I think I know what I want as repayment.”

“Yeah?”

“My friends and I are looking for a party, so you should let us come over.” You shoot him your most charming smile.

“Totally. I’ll text you the details.” He splits off in the direction of the stairs. “But you don’t have to waste your repayment on that. You’re invited for free. So think of something better.” With that, he disappears down the steps.

Something better? You don’t know what that’ll be, but for now you’re just pleased that you found a party. You’ll settle his debt later.

After you and Kino get out of Aural Skills II on Friday morning (you will forever hold a grudge for the class, since it’s basically the only one in the whole school that meets on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday), the two of you book a practice room to work on R&B Ensemble music. When you get to his solo, you notice that he likes to pace while he sings it.

“Do you think you’ll do some choreography for this song?” You ask him. “I mean, you are a dancer.”

He stretches his arms across his body one at a time and rolls his neck. “You know, I actually started choreographing some movements to the song just to see what I might want to do. Wanna see what I have so far?”

“Sure!” You answer excitedly. “I’ve never seen you dance before.”

“True, I guess you haven’t.”

“Do you want me to play for you?”

“Nah, I’ll pull it up on my phone so you can watch.” He picks his phone out of his pocket, and laughs to himself as he navigates to the music. “Although I have no doubt that you could play and watch me at the same time.”

“Maybe once I have the song memorized,” you chuckle.

Kino sets his phone on his music stand as it starts to play his Bruno song, and he dives right in. The movements are simple enough that he can effortlessly sing along, but they’re so precise that he really, truly looks like a professional. His footwork is sharp, and the way he pops his hips is very reminiscent of Bruno himself - but with a little Kino twist.

After the chorus, he stops and faces you with a shy smile. “That’s all I’ve got right now.”

“Kino, that was so cool!” You gushed, clapping elatedly. “You have to do that for the showcase. It’s perfect for the song.”

“Thank you! I’m glad you like it.” He beams, a little more confident now that you’ve boosted his ego. “Do you want to see more? That’s not the style of dance I usually do.”

“Absolutely.” You don’t even hesitate to answer. You’re so curious to see what else he has in store.

He chooses a different song to play - “Shape of You” by Ed Sheeran. Almost immediately, you’re entranced by the way he dances. He’s really good, and the level of control over his movements is just insane.

It’s also kind of crazy to you how willing and comfortable he is to just drop everything and dance for you. The only time you feel comfortable dancing like that is after you’ve had a couple drinks. It’s really admirable.

He finishes his dance, and you start clapping for him again. “Did you choreograph that too?”

“Sort of. I just kind of made it up on the spot.”

“That’s absolutely insane. I had no idea how good you were!” You laugh. “I could never dance like that.”

“Sure you can.” Another song plays, and Kino gestures for you to get up. “Come on, I’ll show you a little something.”

He walks you through some cool footwork, and he’s so encouraging that you actually don’t feel awkward at all to be dancing in front of him. Even though you can tell that the movement doesn’t sit in your body as well as it does in his.

The next song to come on has a distinctly Latin vibe, and Kino reaches his hand out to you. “Alright, come on. You have to dance with me for this one.”

“But I don’t know how to dance to this music!”

“I’ve got you.” He smiles warmly as he takes your hand and pulls you toward him. He keeps some space between you so that you’re not flush up against him, and you both look down at your feet. “I’ll lead. So I’ll step forward with my left foot first, which means you have to step back with your right.”

You do as he instructs.

“Then you just step back together, one, two. Yeah, just like that. Then it’s your turn to step forward with your left - yes, exactly. Just a simple cha-cha.” You move together until you get the feet down.

“I’m too stiff,” you laugh, noticing the robotic way you move your feet.

“You have to loosen up your hips.” He lets go of your hand so both of his hands can secure themselves to your hip bones, and he does it so casually that you almost don’t notice the grip of his fingers. “So you just have to move your hips in time with your feet, like this.” He directs your hips from side to side. “Don’t fight it. Just feel the music.”

You hold tightly to his shoulders as he moves you, feeling unsteady under his hands. It isn’t until you look up at him that you realize how close he is. He meets your gaze, and like wildfire you see pink flood across his cheeks.

“Sorry.” Kino quickly releases you, taking a step back. “Dancers are just used to being manipulated like that, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by touching you like that.”

You blush, too, feeling awkward. “Oh, no, it’s totally fine. I mean, you were just showing me how to dance, it’s not like a big deal or anything.”

He lets out a short laugh, and it makes you smile. “Sorry,” he apologizes again. “I’m not always this weird, I promise.”

“You’re not being weird,” you reassure him. A moment of silence passes, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. You turn towards the piano. “Do you want to go back to practicing?”

He nods gratefully. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

As you resume your seat, you’re not sure what you’re feeling. Even though that was a somewhat intimate moment - and Kino is definitely a cutie - you can’t help but remember Professor Yang’s touch.

You’re such a lost cause.

You pick out your tightest jeans and a low-cut top for the party that night, and Nailah wears something similar. You don’t necessarily have the intention of meeting a guy tonight, but who knows. You could get drunk and hook up with someone, because that’s apparently what you do now. You’re just preparing yourself for that possibility.

You and Nailah meet Shinhye downstairs, and she’s wearing a ripped up pair of boyfriend jeans with a crop top - very nineties hip hop, but it suits her with her short hair and round glasses.

The three of you roll across the street to Plymouth and let yourselves upstairs. The security in this building isn’t as tight as your own, so it’s easy to slip into a throng of residents up to Wooseok’s room.

There must be at least fifteen other people in the room - which is a lot, considering that the apartment sized dorm room isn’t really that large.

It doesn’t take you long to spot Wooseok, since he towers over everyone there. He works his way towards you as you and the girls grab some drinks from the kitchen. You decide to start with vodka shots because you are NOT messing around tonight.

Wooseok throws himself around you in a gigantic bear hug, and you can smell the alcohol coming off of him. He slurs, “Shortie, you came!”

You laugh, giving him a pat on the back. “I told you I’d be here.”

He pulls away, a lazy smile on his face. “And you’re not so short today. Look at you bein’ all tall and stuff for once.”

“Yeah, heels will do that.” You giggle, showing off your three-inch footwear. “Wooseok, these are my friends, Shinhye and Nailah.”

He waves cockily. “What’s up, ladies.”

“This is Wooseok, my drummer friend.”

“Thanks for having us over!” Shinhye, your ever polite friend chimes.

“Of course, of course,” Wooseok brushes her off. “You girls get some drinks and get to dancing, okay?”

“Amen!” You reach for some more vodka, mixing yourself a screwdriver this time. Once Nailah and Shinhye have their own beverages of choice, you make your way into the living room to dance.

The music is probably louder than it should be, and it’s house music that you typically wouldn’t listen to, but honestly you don’t really care. You just want to get lost tonight. Besides, Shinhye and Nailah are having a good time dancing, so you have fun dancing with them too.

The three of you get lost in the booze and the music, and it’s exactly the distraction you needed. Just a fun night with the girls.

After a while, Nailah leans in closer to both of you and shouts over the music, “I’m gonna head downstairs for a smoke.”

“I’ll come with you!” Shinhye smiles at her. You know Shinhye doesn’t smoke, but whatever.

“I’m gonna stay here and get some more to drink.” You pat them both on the shoulders. “Don’t get lost out there.”

“We’ll be fiiiiine,” Shinhye drawls.

Nailah takes Shinhye’s arm. “We’ll be back in a few, okay?”

You just nod as they walk off, and then you make your way to the kitchen for another drink. There’s a group standing around in the kitchen all getting ready to do shots, and you join them, tossing back two more and mixing up another screwdriver for yourself. You’re certainly feeling the alcohol at this point, and you move back into the living room because the music is just calling you.

As you dance, you suddenly feel the warmth of someone behind you. Their hands come to rest on your hips, and you drunkenly look back to find an unfamiliar face. You stop moving, not really wanting to dance with this guy.

“Do I know you?” You ask, sass dripping from your voice.

“No, but you can get to know me if you want.” He pulls you tightly against him, grinding lewdly against you.

You cringe, trying to pull away from him. “I don’t want to.”

“Oh, come on. Just have a little fun.” His mouth is too close to your ear, and his grip is too strong. You can feel his hardness against your ass, and you absolutely hate it.

“No!” You protest, struggling. “Get off of me!”

Another voice speaks up. “You heard her. Leave her alone.”

You look up, simultaneously relieved and surprised to see who came to your rescue. “Yuto,” you breathe.

Still, the guy won’t let go of you. “Is she with you?”

Yuto doesn’t hesitate to lie for your sake. “She is, so I suggest you back the fuck off.”

Finally, the filthy hands release you. “You should keep a closer eye on your girl, man. She’s just asking for trouble.”

You turn around and spit at him. “I’m just enjoying myself, you perv! Sexist asshole!”

Yuto puts an arm around you, possibly to hold you back or maybe just to keep you from stumbling. But he doesn’t say anything else; he just stares the guy down.

The stranger huffs and leaves, and you relax into Yuto. You whine, “Why are guys such creeps?”

Yuto, however, doesn’t pay much attention to your question. He’s looking towards the entrance of the apartment, where there’s commotion. “Shit.”

“Really, what kind of sexist bullshit is that?” You continue griping. “I’m allowed to say no for myself, I don’t know why he’d only listen to you. Hey-!”

Yuto grabs your wrist and pulls you from the throng of people, yanking you into a narrow storage closet with him.

“What are you doing?” You buzz with anxiety. Is he going to try something? “Let me go!”

“_____, you’re wasted. Shut the fuck up.” He pulls the door shut, enclosing the two of you in darkness. “The RAs just showed up, so unless you want to get in serious trouble, you need to just chill and be quiet. Okay? Can you do that?”

You nod solemnly, noticing that the music is now turned off. You don’t want to get in trouble, so you suppose you’ll have to stay put. In a loud whisper, you warn him, “You better not try anything gross, Yuto. I’ve had enough of that for one night.”

“I won’t even touch you, okay? Now be quiet.” Yuto is expressionless as he presses himself as far away from you as possible.

The silence between you is endless as you hear the RAs moving through the room, writing everyone up. In hindsight, it was pretty stupid to look for an on-campus party, considering the rules forbidding alcohol.

Shit - Nailah and Shinhye!

“Oh my God,” you whisper. “My friends might be out there.”

Yuto glares darkly at you, bringing a finger to his lips to remind you to shush yourself.

Shit, shit, shit. You really hope that they’re still outside and that they didn’t come up in time to get busted.

This was all your fault, after all. You’re the one that wanted to go to a party, you’re the one that dragged them along.

All because of that damn Professor Dipwad.

God, what you wouldn’t give to be on him right now.

No! That’s not what you want.

Your cheeks flush. Why does alcohol make you so horny?

You peek up at Yuto, as though you’re concerned he might sense your thoughts. But he just looks towards the door, listening.

His jawline is particularly striking, and you’ve never noticed it before. His hands are surprisingly big, too, his long fingers curling around his biceps as his arms cross over his chest. Actually, he is pretty attractive. Or maybe it’s just that your vodka goggles are in full effect.

He may not have sensed your thoughts, but he definitely senses your stare. Yuto meets your gaze, his eyes firmly locking onto yours. The intensity of his stare makes your heart pound, and you find yourself unable to break away. Like you’re entranced.

Or you’re just drunk.

“You’re so-”

Before you can finish that thought (‘pretty’ is the word you have in mind), Yuto closes the gap between you, his hand covering your mouth to shut you up.

You return his glare with equal fire, but you don’t fight him.

It feels like an eternity before you’re able to leave the small closet, but eventually everybody leaves and Yuto determines that it’s safe to exit. The room is completely empty - not even Wooseok or his roommate are there.

“Wooseok and Minho must be with the RAs,” Yuto muses. “They’ll probably all be back to clean up in a few minutes.”

“That sucks,” you murmur, heading for the kitchen to get one last sip of something good.

“What are you doing? You’ve had more than enough.” Yuto grabs you by the shoulders and steers you towards the door. “Let’s get back to our building.”

“But I’m still thirstyyyy,” you whine as he guides you out the door.

The hallway is clear, and you’re able to slip downstairs without any trouble. You don’t see Nailah or Shinhye at all on your walk back to your dorm, and you hope they’re okay.

Yuto supports you whenever you stumble, your heels suddenly too difficult for you to walk in.

When you reach your building, he ushers you inside. “Just be cool, we have to get past security.”

You nod, and the movement makes you dizzy. He notices that you’re off-balance, and he places an arm around you, holding onto your waist to keep you from falling.

“You’re impossible,” he mutters as you both walk through the lobby, scanning your key cards at the security desk and making it over to the elevators. His arm is around you the whole time, and you relax into his warmth.

It’s a silent trip up to your room, and he holds onto you until you’ve reached your room. You open the door to an empty and dark apartment, meaning that Nailah still hasn’t made it back. Maybe she did get in trouble with the RAs after all…

You turn to Yuto, throwing a smile on your face. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Whatever. Just drink some water and go to bed, okay?” He rolls his eyes to seem unconcerned, but you still think it’s sweet that he’s taking care of you. He turns and heads into his room without another word.

You flip on the lights and collapse onto the couch, mind jumping drunkenly from thought to thought. Where are Shinhye and Nailah? Are they okay?

This is all your damn fault. If only Professor Yang worked at literally any other university, then you never would have crossed paths and he wouldn’t still be on your mind. Even now, he sits in the back of your mind, the memory of your night together resurfacing like it always fucking does.

The thing that’s really hateful about all of it is the fact that you have to pretend like you’re not still interested in him. That you have to just ignore that you’ve ever felt anything about him. It’s all a big lie, and you hate having to walk on eggshells around him.

Why can’t you just be honest?

And suddenly, you have an idea. It’s a terrible one, but let’s be honest - all ideas seem great when you’re drunk. So you pull out your phone and glide through your contacts, where you know you’ve saved Professor Yang’s phone number. It doesn’t even occur to you that it’s his office number and it’s also nearing midnight - all you know is you have to call him. You have to tell him.

You hold the phone to your ear, listening to each ring and hoping desperately to hear his voice on the other end.

No luck.

Instead, you get the generic voicemail greeting, and you should hang up. You should definitely just end the call and not blab. But… you’re drunk.

You’re quiet for a moment after the beep, not sure how to start. And then…

“I hate it. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you. I hate trying to hide the fact that I literally think about you every day.”

You’d like to think that your words are coming out smoothly, but in reality you’re stumbling and slurring.

“Literally… I just want you. I want you to touch me. I want to feel your lips and your hands and your body. It’s killing me that I can’t just… I want to get naked and fuck.”

And suddenly, you’re giggling uncontrollably. “That feels so good to just say it! Ugh let’s fuck, let’s just do the damn thing and screw everybody else. Nothing matters. Just you and me. You know I’ll be so good to you…”

Like vomit, every fantasy expels itself from you, about how you want to tempt him in class and feel him raw inside you. How you want to choke on his cock and ride his face. Nothing is held back.

You’re about to plead with him to give you just one more night together, but the phone buzzes in your hand, shutting itself off due to low battery. You just stare at it for a moment, grumpy about the fact that, 1) it turned off and 2) he didn’t answer. All you want is to just hear his voice. Maybe you should try calling again?

Nah… you’re tired, and you don’t know where your charger is. So you just collapse onto the couch, disgruntled, and you fall into an uneasy sleep.

You wake up in the morning with a churning stomach and a headache, but it’s nothing you weren’t expecting. Your neck is stiff from the uncomfortable couch, and you stretch carefully before peeking into the bedroom.

Thankfully, Nailah is snoozing in her bed. You’re glad she made it back okay. Your memory of last night is a little fuzzy, but you remember not knowing what happened to Nailah and Shinhye at the party.

You take a long shower to clear your head and fry up some eggs once your stomach is settled. When you sit down to eat, you finally plug in your dead cell phone. It powers on, and you’re flooded with texts and missed calls.

Nailah, 12:02am: girl where r u??? Shinhye, 12:03am: are you okay? Let me know when you get home Nailah, 12:05am: seriously answer ur phone Nailah, 12:06am: we’re looking everywhere but no one knows where u went

Shit. You start to remember some of the gaps from last night… Nailah wasn’t home when you came back, so she must have been out looking for you.

A couple more texts, presumably after they found you...

Shinhye, 12:24am: please don’t scare us like that again Shinhye, 12:24am: call me when you wake up?

And a few in between that seem a bit out of place…

City Boy (Kino), 12:16am: are you okay? lol City Boy (Kino), 12:17am: i think you must be drunk City Boy (Kino), 12:22am: maybe we should chat tomorrow lmao

What is that supposed to mean? You don’t have any record of texting him last night, and you don’t remember ever running into him. Maybe you were drunker than you thought.

You try to concentrate and remember an order of events from last night. Yuto pulled you into that closet during the bust, and then… he walked you home? Right! And the apartment was empty, so you didn’t know where Nailah was...

Oh, shit.

You called Professor Yang. And you left a voicemail.

Shit shit shit.

What had you said? Oh God, it better not have been anything stupid…

Wait, was it possible that you called Kino, too? Maybe you were just call-happy. You do get pretty chatty when you’re drunk…

With nervous fingers, you open up your phone app and check your recent calls to assess the damage. But you only see one call from last night - an outgoing call to Kino.

Oh dear Lord you misdialed.

Your heart races and you feel queasy as the realization hits you. You had thought you were calling Hongseok, which means whatever message you left was absolutely addressed to him. And if you at all mentioned the night you shared…

Shit! Now all of that was on Kino’s phone! And he has clearly listened to it!

You throw your phone onto the carpeted floor like it was burning your hand. What were you thinking??

Jesus Christ you’re screwed. You are so, so screwed.

You actually dread R&B Ensemble on Monday. You had spent the whole weekend ignoring Kino’s texts out of sheer terror (and getting lectured by Nailah and Shinhye, but you totally deserve that). You don’t know how much he knows, but you do know that you cannot have that conversation with him.

As a result, you show up a few minutes late to rehearsal, which earns you a slight admonishment from your teacher. You mutter an apology and take your place behind the keyboard, and you feel Kino’s and Yuto’s eyes on you the whole way. Wooseok is missing, and you wonder where he is.

During the break in rehearsal, Yuto catches your attention. “You good?”

It’s a simple question, and you nod. “Thanks for helping me get home. Saturday was a little rough and I think my friends might still be low-key pissed at me for disappearing, but I’m fine otherwise.”

He nods, not meeting your eyes. “You should watch your limits next time.”

You roll your eyes. You don’t need him to lecture you. Obviously you took it too far this weekend. “Hey, do you know why Wooseok’s out?”

“Yeah. He’s banned from extracurriculars for a few weeks as punishment for throwing a party.”

“Really?”

“He probably should have been arrested, considering he was supplying alcohol to minors. Himself included. But the school doesn’t want that negative attention.”

Jeez. You make a mental note to yourself to check in with Wooseok later - partially to see if he’s still up for tutoring this week, but also to see if he’s doing okay.

And then Kino’s suddenly standing in front of you. “Hey.” He’s got his usual smile on his face, and it sends a nervous chill down your spine. “Can I talk to you after practice?”

You find it hard to breathe - you’ll never be ready to have the conversation, but you can’t avoid it forever. “Sure.”

Somehow you manage to get through the rest of rehearsal, and you and Kino head out into the chilly night together. He doesn’t start talking until you get outside.

“So…” he starts. “Good weekend?”

“Quite the opposite,” you confess. “I went to a party that got busted, but luckily I didn’t get caught. And then I think I may have left you an embarrassing voicemail. But Lord knows I don’t remember what the hell I said.”

Kino laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, it’s definitely not anything I expected, I guess. You don’t remember it at all?”

“No, I honestly don’t.”

“Do you want to hear it?” Kino fishes his phone out of his pocket as you both come to a stop at the street corner. “Just to know what you said?”

You don’t particularly want to - you wish you could just brush all of this under the rug. But you know that you need to; otherwise, you’ll stress about the what-ifs for the rest of the foreseeable future. “Okay, yeah.”

He pulls up the voicemail and hands the device to you, which you hold up to your ear. You’re relieved to hear that you don’t once mention the intended recipient’s name, but you hardly get to feel relief. The voicemail is full of filthy imaginings and you’re absolutely mortified by the sexual picture you drunkenly painted.

Your cheeks are burning when you finally hand the phone back, speechless, and you can’t even bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“I’ll delete it now. I only kept it because I thought you might want to know.”

“Thank you.”

The two of you start walking again, and you can sense that he’s dying to ask more about it. You’ll have no choice but to answer.

“Um,” he laughs again. “So I guess my biggest question about it is… you know, since you were drunk and all, did you actually mean that?”

Your chest tightens, and you realize that his cheeks have grown pink, too. Of course he thought it was meant for him. You did leave the message on his phone, after all. But is it possible that he actually wants that message to be his?

Just rip the bandaid off. It sucks, but you have to be honest. You don’t want to lead him on.

“So… I was actually trying to call someone else. I didn’t mean for you to get that message.”

He nods briskly to seem unaffected. “You know, I kind of thought that might be the case.”

“I’m really sorry, Kino.”

He waves his hands to dismiss your apology. “No, don’t worry about it. And I promise I won’t get weird about it, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then he asks, “So, who is he?”

“Just an old fling. No one important.” You feel like he deserves a bit more info than that, so you continue. “There’s nothing between us. I just… I think about him sometimes, but nothing is going to happen.”

“Ah. I’m sorry about that. You, uh, seem to be pretty into him.” He struggles to hold back a snicker, and you playfully hit his arm.

“Knock it off!” You start laughing. “Don’t start joking about that. I’m still embarrassed.”

“But it’s the truth,” he muses, laughing and nudging you with his elbow. His laughter warms you, genuinely making you feel more comfortable. You’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks, but he already feels like a close friend.

This time an easy quiet falls between you as your dorm comes into view. How does he always manage to make you feel so relaxed?

Before you split off to go to your room, you turn to him and apologize. “I’m sorry I ignored you all weekend. I was panicked and embarrassed about the whole situation.”

“It’s okay. I totally understand.” Kino nods reassuringly.

You nod, too. “Okay. Cool.”

“Cool,” he echoes. His eyes search your face and he wears a warm expression. “Do you maybe want to do something next weekend? Like, hang out somewhere that’s not a practice room?”

That actually sounds like a really nice idea. You really like spending time with him, so why not? “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Awesome. I’ll make the plans then.” Waving cutely, he departs for his own dorm. You watch him leave, finally starting to relax after such a stressful couple of days.

Thankfully, Professor Yang would never hear that message. And the conversation with Kino went better than expected.

Maybe things will be back on track now, as long as you’re careful.

When you see Professor Yang in class the next morning, he acts like his usual self. He is all business as he rolls up his sleeves and scribbles physics equations on the chalkboard, blissfully unaware of the way you spend the whole class admiring his striking profile instead of taking notes.

Seriously, how could someone have such a great nose?

Shinhye, however, totally notices your gawking.

She scoots her chair a little closer to yours and leans in, murmuring under her breath. “He’s exceptionally hot today, don’t you think?”

You immediately redirect your eyes to your completely blank notebook. “That’s inappropriate.”

“You’re inappropriate,” she sasses.

She doesn’t know how right she is.

“Don’t worry,” Shinhye pats your leg under the desk. “You can copy my notes later.”

“Any questions?” Professor Yang speaks up from the front of the room, capturing your undivided attention again. He carefully avoids your gaze as he peeks around the room. No one speaks up, so he moves on. “Alright, then. I’ve graded your labs from last week, so when I call your name please come up to collect your work.”

You’re certain that’s code for I-still-don’t-know-your-names, and you try not to smile. Why do you think that’s cute?

He starts working his way through the pile, calling one student’s name after another. And when he finally says your name, he looks directly up at you and your pulse skyrockets. You hold his gaze for a moment before Shinhye gives you a gentle shove.

“Don’t be so obvious!” She whispers, nudging you to stand. “Get up there.”

You hurry to the front of the room, trying not to make a scene. Are you walking too fast? Do you look awkward? Can everyone see how hot your face feels?

When you reach him, you accept your lab papers without looking up at him, but you think that you are literally going to die when your fingers accidentally brush his. You restrain your squeal and rush back to your seat.

Shinhye leans towards you, struggling to hold back her laughter. “Oh my God you are so awkward.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, completely overwhelmed by this sudden bout of anxiety. You need to get over this crush fast, because clearly you’re acting like a fool around him.

You distract yourself by flipping through your lab to see what points you missed. But something doesn’t quite add up.

It’s not a surprise to you that you got some things wrong - you and Shinhye had struggled a lot with getting accurate decibel readings, so you figured some of your calculations were off. But when you total up the points you received and the percentage he scrawled across the top of your lab, the numbers don’t match.

He gave you a higher grade.

...did he do it on purpose?

Normally you’d let it slide if a teacher miscalculated your grade in your favor. Why not accept the accidental grade boost? But with him… this is different.

You told him you want to be graded fairly, that you want to end the class with exactly the grade you deserve. How would it reflect on you if someone noticed you were getting higher grades than what was warranted? What would they think you had done to convince Professor Yang to boost your grade?

Sighing, you sink further into your chair.

You’re going to have to chat with him again.

Post Script | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 5.

Update | Read Part 5 here!

All Rights Reserved © gwentoryfics. No translations, reposting, and/or modifying of the material is allowed without my direct permission.

[hollands-poppet]

Don’t Make Me Choose// Chapter 4

Mob!Tom Holland and Mob!Harrison Osterfield AU series

A/N: YOU GUYS! IT’S LITERALLY BEEN MONTHS SINCE I’VE POSTED! I’VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS CHAPTER FOR SO LONG, I THOUGHT I WAS NEVER GONNA GET IT OUT! BUT I’M SO HAPPY THIS IS COMING OUT. I LOVE THIS STORY SO MUCH THAT I’M TRYING MY BEST TO FINISH IT. -AMY 

Word Count: 4.3K 💛

Warnings: angsty, alcohol abuse, italics is flashback, I didn’t proofread this at all

Chapter 1  Chapter 2 Chapter 3 

playlist💛

-

For the past couple of weeks, Haz has been nervous to even be around his best friend and Y/N. He was nervous about randomly getting killed by his best friend because of what happened between him and his wife. The kiss that was shared between them was sacred at this point.

Harrison had spent the next couple of weeks Taking care of the hits that he was assigned and also going to therapy. I’m top of that he was stressed out that Y/N was going to tell Tom about what happened between them. But she also spared his life by not talking about it out loud in the kitchen a couple weeks ago. He knew that she wanted to protect him just as much as he wanted to protect himself.

It was wrong, the kiss was wrong. The thing that makes him question is mind is that he didn’t initiate the kiss itself. Y/N did. But she was also emotional and she was just acting on those emotions. Right?

Harrison type away on his laptop as he took notes on inventory that Tom needed that night.

And suddenly you got that it’s only always gets right underneath his throat. The itch that only meant that he wanted alcohol in his system. Fuck, he missed drinking so much. He licks his lip as he craves the taste of work on his tongue, and that’s when he remembers about his secret stash. And suddenly it’s like he became parched, he wanted some liquor.  

He got from his office desk and started to snoop around his office. Harrison remembered hiding it in one of the cabinets when he hears someone clear their throat.

“I already threw out the booze, mate.” Tom remarks as he pulls out a post it note and begins to scribble some important things down. While the brunette is still looking down at his pen and paper, the blonde brings his hand into his palm and squeezes it tightly. His support group said it would be normal to want to relapse but it didn’t mean he should.

Before Tom rips the post it note from the stack, he looks up and notices that his friend is lost in thought and decides to break him out of his train of thought, “You alright mate? You’ve been acting strange lately..have you relapsed?”

And to be quite honest, Harrison wanted to relapse so fucking bad. To Haz drinking alcohol and the fact that he didn’t have it anymore was like taking him away from someone that he loved. Not like he wasn’t already experiencing already with an actual person but alcohol sure came close to that, it numbed so much pain and he really did love it.

In Tom’s defense though, his best friend was acting quite strange and it was a mixture of things. It was Harrison trying to build back everything from giving into his addiction. If he could he wouldn’t have picked up that old fashion that one night at the bar that Bella had bought him. That’s where his problem really began because that same night he witnessed Tom and Y/N have their first kiss.

Their first fucking kiss really triggered Harrison and the more he drank that night it helped him forget. Well, at least temporarily just like everything he tried to drown out with his booze.

Haz clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck with his palm, “No, mate. I’ve just…”

I’ve kissed your wife.

And then Haz couldn’t even finish his sentence because he really did almost let it slip. He just took a seat in the chair in front of Tom’s desk and he buried his face into his palms. It was like all these loose ends he thought he had cut off were coming back but he never tied them, just simply put them to the side.

Tom got up from his desk because he knew that his best friend was feeling some type of way. Little did he know that his best friend had a deeper secret than he knew. He makes his way to the blonde’s side and rests his palm on his shoulder, “Listen…” There is a beat and a sigh escapes his mouth before he continues, “I’m not being hard on you just to be an asshole...I’m honestly only protecting you from hurting yourself again.”

I’m still hurting.

Haz stops bouncing his anxious foot as he notices his friend’s genuine concern for him. It made him feel only worse about picking up drinking so heavily but he knew his best friend had his best interest in mind just as he always has. That’s why he also can’t help but feel even more terrible for doing this to Tom.

And thats when Tom’s conscience begins to bug him because he didn’t notice the signs sooner. The brunette clears his throat as he adjusts his tie, “Haz, I just want to tell you something.”

Once the blonde hears those words, his palms begin to dampen in sweat because he thinks that Tom is suspicious. He thinks that Tom knows about what happened between him and Y/N but he could just be paranoid. Unless.. Y/N happened to spill the beans about what happened between them but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t even make eye contact with him the last interactions they had, he knew she was trying to protect him.

Tom leans forward from his desk and crosses his arms, “You know about Y/N…”

And Haz begins to pray in his head, he really thought Tom was going to shoot his brains out right here and right now. But that wasn’t going to happen, in fact the lead monster wanted to apologize to his friend.

But before he could, there was a knock on the door that almost startled Haz to immediately to jump up from his chair.

“Who is it?” Tom asks as he heads towards the door.

“James, sir.”

James was one of Tom’s main bodyguards, he was around but not really because he was always out on watch. And this was one of those moments that the head mobster knew it wasn’t good that he was knocking on the door. If he was, that meant bad news.

-

-

Y/N stares at herself in the life size mirror in her walk in closet, a beautiful off- the-shoulder sequin dress hangs on to her body tightly as she looks at herself over the shoulder.

“This dress is pretty basic compared to the one last year, Bella.” She says as she turns back at her friend who is sitting on the floor next to the 12 other dresses she’s already tried on.

“Well, this is all that Donatella was able to send in.” Bella purses her lips as she pulls out her phone, knowing that Y/N was going to make a request.

Y/N looks back in the mirror and contemplates the dress, “Can you see if Dior could possibly make something custom? Per the request of Tom Holland.”

And this was always the perk that Y/N loved about being married into the mob, her husband’s name could get her anything she needed.

Bella smirks as she begins to write it into her notes, “I’m sure they won’t mind doing this favor for Mrs.Holland.”

For some reason, that stung Y/N so much because she knew that she had cheated on her husband not too long ago. But why? Out of being upset? Or did she really truly love Haz? Was at an act out of spite for her and her husband’s pointless fight?

She didn’t know and she was on edge because she knew Bella and Haz had a thing or something like that. So, she didn’t even feel comfortable telling Bella anything and let alone Robyn because she would definitely spill the tea.

Y/N had to keep this secret to herself, and as insane as this sounds she knew she loved both of them...if that was even possible. But she couldn’t figure it out, she could never because it would only put her and Haz in danger.

It’s not like she didn’t love Tom, it was just another side of her emotions that she would never explore and maybe it was for the best. The universe brought her and Tom together for a reason.

“Y/N?”

And then Y/N is snapped out of it by her husband’s voice, and he is also accompanied by Haz who she has been trying to avoid since that night. The brunette makes his way towards her, “So, we’ve got a problem.”

Before he continues, he stops about in inch and inspects the dress for a quick second, “Is this the dress you’ll be wearing to the ball?”

Y/N lets out a small smile and turns back to the mirror, “No, it’s just not the vibe this year to be honest.” And she crosses her arms, biting her bottom lip in disapproval.

Tom creeps up behind her and wraps his arm around her waist, his fingertips slowly rubbing across her arms, “You still look gorgeous in it, darling.” His lips kissing her shoulder and his Chen resting right by her neck, it felt nice. This moment reminded her why she fell in love with him, his charm was everything.

She closes her eyes for what feels like forever because she’s so caught up that as soon as she opens them eye contact is made with Harrison. She could see the bitterness in his piercing blue eyes, his jaw clenching in jealousy.

At that point, Bella felt some time of need to excuse herself and even thought to take Haz our if there, “Harrison, can you help me with something?”

The blonde is knocked out of his trance by his on and off lover, “Yeah, no problem.” But he did have one, at least not with her.

Within seconds they were gone from the room, eye contact not being broken between Y/N and Haz til he was out of the room. Tom was too busy caressing his wife to even notice the eye contact in the mirror.

Y/N turns around still in Tom’s embrace, her hands crossing behind his neck with her fingers intertwined. “You said there was a problem, love?”

Tom leaves a kiss on her forehead and lets out a sigh, his lips pressing together tight.

“Remember that guy I dumped in the river about a few months ago?”

Y/N rolls her eyes and nods, “I mean, not my favorite memory but yes I do.”

Tom sighs as his hand starts to move up her waist, “Well, we unknowingly killed the son of my main enemy, love.”

Y/N pulls away, her hands still resting on his shoulders, “So what does that mean?”

Tom moves a hair strand out of her face and behind her ear, “It means that we need to be extra careful because we’re being watched. Harrison will be with you 24/7 when I’m not.”

Y/N immediately froze, she hasn’t been alone with Harrison for a long time..not since.. not since that kiss. It was going to be weird, so fucking weird.

“Are you alright, love?” Tom asks, he doesn’t even know what Y/N could even be worried about.

She bites her bottom lip, “you know, I can take care of myself.” And Tom knew that, he knew had married a tough, independent woman but he couldn’t take chances right now especially with a mob potentially just as dangerous as his.

“I know that darling but we can’t take the chance, I can’t risk losing you.” His hand caresses her cheek as he pulls their noses together, “I would never forgive myself if I lost you.”

Tom and Y/N’s eyes are locked as they both stare in deep into each other’s eyes. And this is how Y/N knew she was in love with Tom, the way he showed his love and the way he made love. She was a part of him now and if he she died, he died with her. She becomes a little choked up as she takes a small breath, “When are you gonna let me take care of you, hm?”

His hands pull her in closer, his grasp deep around her waist causing a chill down her spine, “Just promise me something, yeah?”

Y/N nods while their foreheads still touch, “Anything...what is it?”

“If anything happens to me, promise me you won’t mourn over me? You’ll move on, and even if I’m gone-”

In a second Y/N pulls away, the romantic moment over from the minute that Tom started speaking his thoughts, “No, nothing will!” Her voice rising a bit than before, “How can you say something like that?”

Tom runs his hand through his curls as one hand lays on his hip, “I just want to prepare you for the worse..you’re married to-”

“I know who I’m married to, and the person I’m married wouldn’t say these foolish things.” She begins to sob as the thoughts of even losing her husband flood her mind, she couldn’t believe this.

As she begins to release the water works, he approaches her “I’m not saying it’s actually going to happen, just if it does happen.”

Y/N stares at the ground as she contemplates his words, he was right. She knew who she did marry, a mobster who chased and was always being chased and being his wife came with that burden.

“No ifs, okay? Just don’t do that to me.” She moves into his arms again, “you can’t..you just can’t.”

Tom kisses her forehead and lifts up her chin, “I’ll never leave you.” His lips meet hers for the first time that day and they stay together like that for a moment.

-

-

Y/N and Tom made love that night, it was actually quite needed for both sides. And in fact, Y/N knew it was what she needed, it was more than confirmation of who she loved but it also opened her eyes to a lot of things.

And that first thing was talking to Harrison, and the thought of confronting him made her stomach turn every time because they were best friends. Although he was technically Tom’s best friend, there were times that Haz had been there for her when Tom wasn’t.

Not to make Tom sound like an asshole but just for random things for when he wasn’t there like taking her to the market, fixing up her makeup when it smeared or even just waking her up when she slept into late.

They got along so well and Y/N just shakes her head at the thought of even jeopardizing their friendship and lives for a second of lust. She runs a tube of a nude lipstick across her lips, her hair slicked back into a ponytail with a green dress that Tom picked out for her.

She didn’t have any other reason for getting ready was other the fact she was going to have tea and she planned to drink tea with Harrison. She needed to talk to him but she was so nervous that she needed some tea to calm her.

Y/N gets up from her vanity chair and begins to make her way out the door and the down the stairs. The outfit that Y/N chose to wear was a bit more than just casual but it was also besides the fact that always wanted to look good. She also wanted to live up to her husband’s style, and she really made an effort to look just expensive as him.

Anyway, she continued her way down the stairs and looked around below her, in search of her friend. Y/N could feel her palm sweating as her had slid down the banister, she knew what had happened between them was triggering this random sweat.

-

Haz casually sat in the garden of the Holland residence which he just so happened to live in and it wasn’t because he couldn’t afford his own place but he could never genuinely enjoy living on his own. The constant being called upon by Tom for jobs and quick hits always brought him back to his friends mansion. The two eventually came to an agreement for Harrison to just move instead because he was always there about 23 hours of the day.

Haz sits in his thoughts as he overlooks the sunflowers that are spread out over the green, full of life garden. He remembers so vividly the day that the sunflowers were being planted.

“But darling, sunflowers? It’s a little…lame.”

Y/N twirls in her nightgown that is covered by her robes followed by a silly eye roll, “But they represent happiness, Love.” She smiles as she gives a glance at her husband as she looks back at him from over her shoulder, the sun highlighting her cheekbones just perfectly.

Haz watches the two communicate from the distance, he could tell that his best friend was not vibing with the girly flowers but the blonde wasn’t opposed to them. He thought they quite nice actually, he continued to watch.

The brunette scratched behind his ear, “It’s just not my style.” Tom says as he begins to pull a cigar from his pocket, the disappointment that Haz could see from the side of her face as her back was faced to Tom really struck a chord in his heart. He knew that if he were husband that he would just suck it up but his friend was very opinionated.

“Mate, they’re already planted..you should just leave them.” Harrison interferes, causing Tom to stop lighting his cigar and staring back at his friend. Almost like a death stare and it was because no one ever talked back to him.

Tom locked his jaw and blew out a puff of smoke, “So, you think we should keep these flowers?”

Haz gulps as he looks at Y/N who is now staring back at him, and now back at Tom who is waiting for an answer, “I mean//everyone can use a little happiness sometimes...it could be good for your home.”

He takes a look back at Y/N who has a small smile across her face, she was happy that Haz had defended her flowers.

“Beautiful aren’t they?”

Haz turns around the moment that he hears the familiar voice that makes him melt each time, she sounded so perfect. He swallows nervously as he responds,”Very.”

Y/N smiles at his response and walks toward the table with tray of tea with milk and sugar, “Can I sit?”

He nods as the awkward silence continues to grow heavy in the air, he clears his throat as he tries to break it, “Please...sit.”

Y/N smiles as she sets down the tray of tea and

takes the seat across from him, “I remember the day you defended those flowers..” She pours herself a cup of tea as she reminisces about the memory, “They really do bring happiness, don’t they?”

Haz smiles as he adjusts his turtleneck and nods, “Yes.”

Y/N can tell that he is nervous so she decides to just come out and say what she feels. She sets down the pot of tea and intertwines her fingers, “Harrison, I know what happened between us was-”

His blue eyes widen because even mentioning anything out loud jeopardized their lives, “Y/N-”

“No, let me finish. I wouldn’t be talking about this if I knew it wasn’t safe.” She remarks and she was right, now that he was with her 24/7 until Tom would arrive that means right now they were alone. All the security would travel with Tom and Haz would stay behind except for some security who would guard around the mansion.

“I hate that it’s weird between us. We used to be really close and I really want to be there for you as a friend.” She sighs as tears begin to rise, “I really wanted to be there for you when you fell sick from your addiction but I just pushed myself away but I’m ready to put it all behind us and be friends again.”

Harrison could see the apologeticness in her eyes, and even in her tone. He wanted nothing more than to move on as well, “Thank you.. I really appreciate that, Y/N.” They both smirk as a tear rolls down her eyes, “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.” He says as he reaches for the tea.

The silence is no longer heavy, the energy is

right as the two adults make their teas to their liking. Y/N stirs her tea as the wind blows through her ponytail, “So..what’s new?”

Haz takes a sip of his tea and sets it down, “Oh you know, just the casual support group meetings on top of work but it’s been okay...Bella and I have been getting close again which…” They both make eye contact, Y/N has always know about Haz and Bella having a thing and how Bella has never been able to lock him down.

“I’m happy about.. Bella has been good to me while I have been recovering.” For some reason that stung Y/N, she didn’t realize that she could’ve been there for him whether they were together or not.

“That’s good, Harrison. I’m happy to hear that she’s been there for your recovery.” Y/N smiles as she takes another sip at her tea.

The blonde smiles, “Thank you..but what about you? Anything new?”

Y/N runs her tongue across her bottom lip as she nods, “I’ve pretty much adjusted to married life..I’m honestly just scared that something is going to happen to us..to all of us.”

He sits up straight as he leans in, “What are you talking about? I’m here to protect you, Y/N.”

She nods her head as her smile turns into a frown, “I know but I’ve heard you and Tom talk and…” she take a pause as she feels her throat begin to burn from wanting to cry.

The two make eye contact, he notices her eye color begin to pop as the red from her tears begin to flood her eyes.

“It sounds so awful but it sounds really bad this time.” Y/N sobs out and immediately rests her forehead on her palm right after, “I’m just scared.”

Harrison looks down at his tea and then back up at his friend who he knows is scared shitless. His instinct is to bring his hand to her face and lift it from her palm. Her cheek rests in his palm as he wipes a tear that run down her cheek, “I- Tom and I are not going to let anything happen to you.”

Y/N lets out a hopeful smile and she doesn’t know what happens next but maybe she worked herself up with her emotions that she suddenly becomes nauseous and a bit dizzy.

“What’s going on here?”

The two turn from their positions to find Tom walking toward the both, and Haz’s hand immediately moves away from her face.

Y/N gets up from her seat and walks towards her husband, “Nothing, love. Harrison was just saying my face looks a bit pale..” she leans into give Tom a hug and a kiss, “I’m feeling a bit woozy so I’m going to go lie down.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Tom asks as he brings his hands to her cheeks. She nods as she kisses his nose, “Yes, love. I’ll be upstairs lying down.”

She walks past Tom and even looks back to wave at Harrison which brings the brunette to look back at the blonde. For some reason, Haz begins to sweat and he knows it’s because he is getting nervous, he’s always felt that Tom suspected something.

Tom take the seat that Y/N was before and if Haz were to know the truth, he hasn’t suspected anything. But he did want to reveal something to his best friend.

“Listen Haz,” he blows out another puff. The two make eye contact as the wind blows through there stiff, gelled hair. “I just want you to know that, I never intended to marry Y/N.”

Haz’s heart stops dead in his tracks as he hears his friend fessing up. He decides to take another sip at his tea, not believing what he is hearing right now.

Tom continues as the sunflowers in the back move slightly as the wind blows, the aesthetic helping the energy stay calm. The brunette clears his throat as he looks at the flowers, not being able to keep eye contact with his own best friend.

“I know you wanted her first and I just never thanked you for letting me keep her.” Tom confesses as he looks back at Haz who is already choked up.

This was a lot for for Harrison because his best friend usually never fessed up to anything. It was almost a healing process for him as well, a huge open wound that is healing slowly. It was a big deal for both of them because of the fact they have been on different wavelengths and it was like Tom wanted to fix that.

Harrison cracks a smile, “Thanks man. And I’m sorry for being a mess and thank you for being there for me.”

Tom sets down his cigar on the tea plate and nods his head, “Before we all get mushy, we have a problem..”

-

A/N: AHHH!!! SORRY IF THIS IS ALL OVER THE PLACE! BUT pls let me know what you think is going to happen next!! feedback is always helpful, so please message me or whateva!! I love you guys! Goodnight/Goodmorning! -Amy💛

p.s not everyone that is on the taglist asked to be tagged but if you want me to remove you let me know!!

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[thosekidswhohuntmonsters]

Keeping Your Promises 

Summary: Thor is more oblivious with one eye than he was with two, especially when it comes to realizing how the people around him feel about him. With a push from Loki will Thor finally realize how the reader feels about him?

Word Count: 1660

Authors note: omg my first Thor imagine!! If you guys want me to write more Thor just lmk!!

**if you reblog or comment on my fics there’s a 100% chance I’d now die for you**

      As Loki walked past your room he stifled a chuckle. Leaning against your doorframe he asked, “Could you be more obvious, and my brother more oblivious”. Picking up your head from your book you turned to face him.

Baby you’re like lightning in a bottle, I can’t let you go now that I got it

You raised one of your eyebrows, pretending to play dumb. He didn’t budge, the look he was giving you made you know he had seen right through you. As the song continued he smirked.

All I need is to be struck, By your electric love

Baby, you’re electric

Reaching for your phone you skipped to the next song on your playlist. Without looking to him you softly said, “I thought you were the god of mischief, not the god of smugness”. Loki’s smirk grew, you were the only one he’d let toy with him like that.

“And I thought you midgardians were desperate to fall in love, and here you are denying it”. With that he left your room and continued to walk to his own. It was hard to tell who was smiling bigger, you or him.

Shaking your head you closed your bedroom door, and the second it was shut your mind continued to think of Thor. It had been a year since they’d returned from Ragnarok and had decided to live in the tower.

And it had also been a year since you’d first developed feelings for Thor. He had always made your heart skip a beat, but now given how much he’d grown emotionally you just couldn’t help yourself.

Thor had lost the most he ever had, but his heart was so giving that you would never know it. He constantly spoke of friendship and that “home” was rooted within people not places. It was like after all these years he’d finally found himself.

Although Thor remained oblivious to your feelings, Loki picked up on them instantly. He was used to people fawning over Thor, but none had ever had the character that you had. You weren’t another maiden, you were more.

Loki considered you one of Midgard’s only redeeming qualities, which was why he was so supportive of your feelings for his brother. Loki knew that the last person Thor ever thought about was himself, so it was hard to see when someone truly cared for him the ways in which you did.

He’d always believed his brother to be oblivious, but now more than ever. To make matters worse Thor shared your feelings, but was too unsure to act upon them. You were both lucky Loki refrained from locking you in the same room for 24 hours.

“Brother you’re staring, and quite possibly drooling”. Instantly Thor stopped leaning against the kitchen counter and stood back up straight. He tried to look casual, “Yeah well you’re also staring..staring at me..”.

Loki rolled his eyes at Thor’s lame comeback. He leaned a little closer, “The men in this house wildly outnumber the women, might be time you remember that”. Loki motioned his head forward, leading Thor’s gaze to you and Bucky.

Bucky was pulling you out of your glum mood by forcing you to dance with him. He turned up the speakers, “You know doll, dame’s used to line up just to dance with me”. As Bucky watched you slowly smile he knew he was getting through to you.

“Just dance with you?”, you teased knowingly. His loud laughter filled the room, and he pulled you a little closer. With a smirk he said, “That’s why you’re my best girl, you catch on quickly”.

Quickly he spun you out from his body before pulling you back into his chest. Placing both of your hands on his chest you rolled your eyes, “Okay consider me cheered up Barnes”. For a moment he held you there, not letting you escape his grasp.

Softly he whispered, “Good, because Thor over there is about to smite me where I stand”. While shaking your head you playfully pushed him back. Smiling you added, “Actually…wanna know what would really cheer me up?”.

Bucky finished your sentence, “Joe’s Pizza on 7th?”. You nodded your head, your stomach already beginning to grumble. Bucky motioned you to follow him, you both moving to get your coats.

For some reason Bucky stopped in the kitchen before going to the hallway with all your coats. He sighed, “You know what doll, I forgot that I’d promised Steve we’d train today. I can’t go get pizza with you I’m sorry”. You knew exactly what he was doing.

Loki realized too, “I would accompany you (y/n) but I can only stand so many midgardians at a time…but I know Thor doesn’t share these feelings. He loves Midgard and many of the people on it”.

As Loki turned to Thor his grin was enormous. After glaring at his brother Thor finally answered, “I’d love to go drink pizza with you (y/n)”. Biting your lip you tried to hold back a giggle but you couldn’t stop yourself.

Thor was amazed how you made even the smallest actions so arousing. You smiled, “Alright then I’ll show you the best Pizza this city has to offer…and we eat it not drink it. I mean you could drink it but-”.

As he heard the door close Loki turned to Bucky, “I do have to say that was well done on your part”. Bucky grinned, his earlier smugness returning within seconds. He shrugged his shoulders playfully, “It was a team effort really”.

Thor looked down at the food before him quizzically. He looked around him to see how other people ate the food, hoping to copy them. Slowly he brought his hands to fold the pizza, wondering for a moment if it was still alive and this technique helped finally kill it.

When the pizza crunched he jolted back a little bit, and as redness seemed to ooze from it he was convinced it had been once alive. Your voice brought his head back up, “If you don’t like it you don’t have to eat it”.

With that you began to eat your food, savoring every single bite. He watched you, “I thought you didn’t eat animals (y/n)?”. You raised one of your eyebrows at his question.

“I don’t..this isn’t an animal..oh my god”. As you pieced things together you laughed loudly. Thor was slightly embarrassed, but as he watched that beautiful smile of yours form every other emotion except desire left his body.

He smiled too, “Maybe I’m not as versed in midgardian culture as I thought”. You shook your head at his cute naiveness. Without thinking you let it slip, “No you’re cute”.

Knowing that you’d never get those words back, and he clearly heard them, you were eager to quickly move things along. Hoping to push away the moment you began eating the pizza again.

Thor noticed the blush on your cheeks, it was as red as what you’d told him had been the sauce. He now understood why it had felt like such a shift, with how you were reacting over a simple compliment it clearly meant more to you.

He’d heard you call many things cute, even Loki’s threats to destroy everyone in his worst fits of rage, so this cute obviously represented much more to you. Suddenly it all started to click in his mind.

Thor regained his confidence, “Hmm cute? Like how you look right now all flustered? You can tell me if I’ve used the term incorrectly”. Smugly he watched you blush even harder, and he felt Loki would even be proud of his boldness.

You knew that Loki was adopted, but right now Thor was mirroring that infamous smirk of Loki’s. Fumbling you managed to get out, “Uh..no you got that one right Thor…”. He nodded his head, his smile only fading as he took another bite.

You went to take another bite of your food too, but you just shook your head. Smiling you sighed, “I guess there’s no going back now huh?”. Placing down his pizza Thor held your gaze.

His smile was enormous, “No”. As Thor watched you bite your lip in contemplation he felt his heart race. He had seen women do the most obscene things while trying to get his attention, but you nearly had him begging on his knees without even knowing it.

You thought over the past year, and how much you all had lost. If there was anything you’d learned it was that nothing was promised, not even your next breath. Thor clearly liked you, so you needed to stop the voice in your head and finally act on your feelings.

“You know Thor, one day I’m going to get you all hot and bothered and see how you like it”.

It was a little more daring than you’d planned, but you liked the immediate reaction your words had caused. He was a fucking god, and here you were making him smirk wildly with your words.

“Oh I think I’ll quite enjoy it love, I just hope you keep your promises.”. Thor ended his sentence with a wink and continued to eat his pizza. Quickly he looked up from his food, watching your cheeks flush with color.

Thinking over his words you nodded your head, there was no going back now. Summoning all your courage you looked directly into his eyes, “Don’t let my innocent eyes fool you, I’m a woman of my word”. It was your turn to wink before continually to nonchalantly eat your food.

“I swear on Odin’s beard you shall be the death of me (y/n)”. Thor groaned while taking another bite, and you wondered if it was because of the delicious pizza, or you. Smiling to yourself you realized that the next time Thor made that noise around you, he wouldn’t be eating pizza.

——————————————————————————

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