#bro i hate to mess something up so mug

[idk-i-want-mcl-content]

:p personal

[hunnysnoops]

ミ★ 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒦𝓎𝓁𝑒 𝐵𝓇𝑜𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓋𝓈𝓀𝒾 𝐻𝒞𝓈 ★彡

(+some general)

MASTERLIST

Doesn’t crush often but when he does, he crushes hard

Hot take- we would not choose a study date as a first date

^ I see him as the kinda guy who dates with a long term goal in mind and would want to get to know someone well off the bat

^ Bro is not messing around- he would want a first date where the two of you talk a lot and he can get to know you before committing

^I think his ideal first date would be a movie then a cafe/restaurant. Movie first so there’s a couple hours to ease the awkward first date tension and then coffee/food to talk about the movie and eventually branch the conversation out

He sends those cryptic texts like “be alert…” when there was mugging in town or something

Tags you in every post he sees. You’ll wake up and check social media to thirty messages in your inbox and they’re all from Kyle

The kinda guy to be like “Did you look at the post I sent you about the guy at the bus stop?”

Got his account banned on Twitter and went absolutely ballistic while you tried to calm him down

Runs Hay Day like it’s the navy

Definitely the type to be hooked on his phone until it dies and then complain that you’re on yours “Bro, let’s just talk about the political and economic state of the world right now…”

This might be another hot take but I don’t think he would want a childish partner, he want to be your boyfriend not your dad

^Having to zip up your coat, tie your shoelaces, or cut your food- I don’t think he would mind doing it a couple times but repeating offences would irritate him

Not big on pet names

^ I think he would be one to call you ‘bro’ ‘man’ and ‘dude’ a lot just out of habit but would probably just call you an abbreviation of your name if anything

^ perhaps babe on very rare occasion

HATES PDA

^ I fear I may have many hot takes in this post

^He would be pretty touchy in private but in public? Hell no

^ talks shit about couples who can’t keep their hands off each other in public and absentmindedly wrinkles his nose in disgust

^ the only PDA he would accept is hand holding or a quick hug

Calls and FaceTimes you out of the blue but will immediately hang up if you’re busy or with other people and call back later

He is either the most sound sleeper ever or he wakes up at the drop a pin- either way, he always ends up slinging his lanky arms around you

He’s weirdly good with hair and would have no problem braiding yours or styling it

Super supportive aspiration wise

^ sports games? He’s the loudest in the crowd. Theatre? He’s on the edge of his seat watching. Art? He’s looking at your creations like they’re in a museum.

If you have bad habits (smoking, drinking, etc.) he would try to ease you out of them but if that fails it would definitely cause conflict in the relationship

Has his moments where he snaps at you

Fights wouldn’t be often but they would be big

He would enjoy playful banter and someone who challenges him to improve

I think he would enjoy a lot of the lower beats of the relationship like staying in to watch movies, cooking together, walking and talking, silently enjoying each others company, etc.

He posts Instagram carrousels and every single one has a picture of you in it

Doesn’t even entertain people who try to flirt with him “No, thanks.” “I’m dating someone.” “I’m good.”

Shows you Reddit posts and complains about how obviously fake they are

Gets irritated by bad acting in movies “He called her Courtney Dove, fucking idiot.” “Why does she chew like that?” “Her accent sounds fake.”

Has a secret TikTok account and doesn’t know that you watch his videos on a fake account

He is well aware of rage bait but it still makes him mad because so many people fall for it so he’ll end up commenting anyways

Easily jealous

^ if he sees you talking to another guy he doesn’t trust he’ll insert himself into the conversation and pretend he knows what’s going on

Checks up on you a lot

^ He just has to know that you're okay, he has to be sure that you're safe and that if something were to happen, you would call him without thinking twice.

He wants to communicate but he’s lowkey really bad at it and can’t get in an argument with you without yelling

I imagine him as a runner

^ he’ll probably run to your house at ungodly hours, drink some water, give you a kiss, and keep running

^also lovvvves to show you his stats

He’s really good at cooking and always takes control when you two are cooking/baking together

Didn’t want to dress up on Halloween but you ultimately coerced him into doing a corny couples costume

Has a longer skincare routine than you do

He’s one of those guys to pretend to hate the reality shows and soap operas that you watch- he’ll peak from his phone, then stand from behind the couch and then he’s fully invested in the plot

[redskull199987]

👤yo bro bestie my main man,how bout a William Afton/gn reader where Reader is at Aftons office to get a job and Willy Billy is just messing with them and they're really shy and just get embarrassed super easily.Afton offers them coffee and they take it even tho they don't like coffee.Reader isn't at his office for the first time.Like in THE MOVIE where Mike is at his office.Could you do som with that scene and a silly reader because I need it.(Mathew Lillard Afton if you didn't get what I was getting at because I'm rambling)

Career Counseling

William Afton x gn!reader Request Word count:1.2k Warnings:angstyyyyyyyy, but not overly angsty, my friend William here is just teasing you, he ain’t biting, Movie spoilers obviously Summary: After failing at the last job he assigned to you, you find yourself back at the office of your career counselor…Steve Raglan

Masterlist

You were back at his office. The last place where you wanted to be. Or did you? You weren’t entirely sure of what you wanted. After all, you weren’t even able to hold onto a job for more than a few months. 

So, here you were again. Back on the creaky old chair in front of his even older wooden desk with the small name tag on it, that seemed to constantly remind you of your failure. Why else would someone spend so much time at a career counselors office? Surely, there wouldn't be another reason.

Your eyes were following his every movement, as he looked through your papers again, his back turned to you. He adjusted his glasses every now and then, until he finally turned on his chair, facing you again. You quickly straightened your back, your hands slightly squeezing the armrests of the chair. Mr Raglan gave you a small smile, before taking a look at your papers again.

You felt your heartbeat pick up, as his eyes wandered over the last page: the report of your last job. A job he had picked out personally and just for you. And you had messed it up. It was the easiest task really. All you had to do was stand guard at an office. But you managed to fall asleep during work, giving some stupid punks the chance to break in and steal anything and everything of value.

“You havin’ trouble sleeping?”

His question caught you off guard. You looked back up at his face, but he was still eying the Papers.

“Well, I-I kinda always had them, so…”, you stammered, fumbling with your hands and looking back to the ground.

“Honestly, I feel like you aren’t even trying.”, he only smiled and dropped the papers to his desk. He neatly folded his hands and looked at you expectantly. 

When you didn’t say anything, he continued to elaborate:”You are back at my office for the..what is it now, third time? I give you the easiest jobs and yet, here we are again.”

It took you a few seconds to fully process what he had said and when you finally did, you knew that he was right. He really did give you the easiest jobs known to man. Jobs with literally only one task...and you failed at them.

“Coffee?”

His question successfully caught you off guard again and you gazed up at him with a confused expression on your face:”Sorry?”

“Uh, would you, would you like some…some coffee. I made some coffee.”, he asked again, getting up in the process and walking over to the small table behind you.

You only looked after him for a second, before finally answering:”Uhm eh no, I mean sure. Sure, I would like some.”

With a smile, Mr Raglan handed you a steaming mug of coffee and quietly sat back down behind his desk.

You had no idea why you said yes. You hated coffee. It was part of your sleeping problem and yet, here you were, sitting in front of your career counselor with a steaming mug of black coffee in your hands. You just tried to ignore it and took an experimental sip. And immediately you remembered why you hated coffee. The taste and smell triggered something inside you, that made you want to spit the coffee back into the mug. But as Raglan looked at you again, you gave him a reassuring smile and quickly swallowed the coffee, before putting the mug down in front of you, on his desk.

“So, I have to be brutally honest with you here, Y/N.”, Mr Raglan continued after a few seconds of silence,”Given your track record, your options are now severely more limited than they were the last two times that you were here.”

“I know, I know.”, you nodded,”Like I said before, I’ll take anything, anything that you got for me.”

“You know, it’s not that easy.”, Raglan smiled and took a sip of his coffee, all the while still looking at you. All you could do was nod, feeling incredibly small under his watchful gaze.

“I…I know I messed up big time, b-but I promise you, this time, it’s gonna work out. It has to. I got nowhere else to go.”, you explained with a shaky voice, not even daring to look at him.

With a smile, he only looked at you for another minute. Right, as you were about to get up to leave, he ushered you back in.

“I got a job for you.”, he explained,”Come on. Sit sit sit sit sit.”

You looked at him slightly confused. Mere minutes ago, he had told you that you were out of options and now he was making you a job offer?

“Okay ehm, what is it?”, you asked, after you sat back down. Raglan leaned forward on his desk and you quickly did the same in order to listen to him attentively.

“It´s a security gig.”, he proposed,”Similar to the last one you had. Full disclosure: it’s not great. Right? High turnover, that’s what we call it in the business, but you get to be your own boss. Sort of. And you only have to worry about one thing. Keeping people out. And-and you know, keep the place tidy.”

“That’s two things”, you assessed with furrowed brows. Was he really going to give you another job as a security guard? When you had failed so miserably at the last one?

Raglan could only shrug at your remark:”You want the job or not?”

You thought about it for a few seconds, while he looked at you expectantly.

“How’s the pay?”, you questioned further.

Raglan answered faster than you thought:”Not great. But…the hours are worst.”

He did say, the job wasn’t great, but this lousy? You decided to ask further:”When exactly?”

“I take it then, that you want the Job?”, Raglan answered with a counter question instead. You nodded, motioning for him to continue.

“Let me give you a little backstory then.”, he smiled,”This place was huge in the ‘80s with the kids. It’s been shut down for years. The only reason they haven’t given it the old wrecking ball treatment, is the owner’s a bit of a…Well, he’s kind of a sentimental guy, I guess. Just can’t bring himself to let it go yet.”, 

He gave you a small chuckle, while looking to the ground like he was lost in his memories,”Yeah…Had some trouble with break-ins over the years. Drunks and vagrants mostly. Not ideal. Security system’s dated but fully functional. Floodlights on the outside. Cameras inside and outside. Fair warning: the electricity is a bit…iffy. Anything happens, there is a breaker in the main office. Just flip it. Uh, I guess, that’s about it. You know, the rest is pretty easy. Just keep your eyes on the monitors and keep people out. Piece of cake.”

After he finished his explanation, the two of you sat in silence for a minute, while you thought the whole thing over. On the surface, the job did seem fairly easy. Just like he said. But you couldn’t help yourself, feeling a bit…suspicious of it. Why had he only told you about it now? He could’ve told you the last two times you were at his office. Why now?

“So, what do you think?”

For a third and final time, his question pulled you out of your thoughts. Raglan looked at you with anticipation. Thinking about it one last time, you finally made your decision.

“When can I start?”

[sakurabutterflyart]

Take a Break Sweetheart 🧡💚 [COMPLETED](Delta Dawn x John Dory)

(WARNING: ENGLISH is not my first language)

John Dory is Delta's bestfriend. Who's obviously hitting on her. But as time went on, they've become inseperable. Even after so many rejections, they somehow still get along, also despite being so different yet similar in some way. Though she can't see why. There's something about John that she felt a sense of comfort around him, where she can be herself around him.

Delta stared at his bestfriend, preparing coffee for the both of them as she continue on her work as Mayor in Lonesome Flats. The blue haired troll caught the lady staring at him, then gave him a soft flirty smile, causing her to scoff at his goofiness.

"What's with that look? Are you finally falling for me Ms. Mayor?" He gave her his most charming smile, that most Brozone fans will faint at the sight.

"In. your. dreams." She leaned in her palms, rolling her eyes as she looks away from the handsome troll. Though she admits, she can't deny that he has charming looks that can  make every girl swoon. Which almost got her too.

Ever since he came to the village, her exhaustion disappears simply by having his presence or company.

As he placed down the coffee, the red haired troll immediately stop writing all of her paperworks to take a little rest. She yawns, making John Dory look up noticing the fatigue of her eyes.

"Uuuh my dear Mayor,  how many hours did you sleep last night?" John Dory asked, narrowing his eyes. As she saw her shrug.

"Ummm, maybe 5, 3 or..." Delta mumbles as her voice gets very high pitch, clearly hiding something.

"Ms. Delta Dawn, did you sleep last night?" He asked again, getting her cornered.

"Uh... no?" She hesitantly answered, seeing his face ready to scold her, causing her to be a little angry about it. "Hey! Don't give me that look Mr! I'm the Mayor and Sheriff in Lonesome Flats! Don't expect me to just go around sleeping."

She scolded back,  as she took a sip of her coffee. Helping her ease her temper, by relieving her sleepiness.  The pop troll sigh, as expected from her best friend. Well that's what makes her hot anyway, her strong personality with a heart to look after her people is what also made him fall for her. But still...

"Look Delta you should really go to sleep, you haven't slept for 3 days now." He said worriedly.

"What? I did fall asleep, I took an occasional nap wherever and whenever I can." She argued back. "Plus I can't afford to rest right now. I have some fences to repair, some thieves to catch and also a niece to look after, to pick up from school and make dinner. "

John watch as Delta rub her head, stress showing on her face by just thinking of what she has to do for the following days. Becoming more worried that if she's even gonna make it through the entire day.

He sigh, took a deep breathe and whispered,  "You leave me no choice sweetheart."

He approached his beloved friend, walking behind her. She was confuse until he felt him slide his hands throughout her palms to her coffee mug to grab it, while his other hand grabbed her shoulder. Which made her heart jumped.

The women was used by her friend's touchiness, especially because pop trolls loves to hug every hour.

Both of them never really hug often. But John Dory enjoys physical touch, especially with fellow country trolls with his patting at the back, some high fives, handshakes and also some bro hugs. Both of them shared some physical touch too, with his hand kissed greetings, holding hands when he guides her to somewhere,  some back patting, also playing around with her hair to mess with her, tickles her so she can get annoyed to chase him around town and ocassional hugs too. She acts like she hated it, but she secretly likes it.

But this one's a little different, John Dory was too close, she felt her face burning by too much physical contact.  "What are you doing?!"

The women yelled. John Dory gave her his cocky grin, placing down the coffee and pulling her away from her desk preventing her to grab it. John Dory then lean in and place his head on her forehead, feeling her face's temperature. "Your face is heating up, you really need to rest now lady Sheriff."

"I'm heating up because you're too close, Mr. Idiot Detective!" She yelled, but receiving a smirk from him.

"Oh so you're telling me that you're falling for me Ms. Delta." He raised his eyebrows in flirtation,  causing Delta to lightly punched him.

"Stop messing around you idiot, I need to get back to work.  " She gets up, but realized her body is too weak to get up, falling back to the chair. She saw the man's face formed into an anxious expression, which somehow made her insides felt touched by his caring nature. 

"Woah, easy there." She felt the blue haired troll, starting rubbing her head, massaging her all the way to her shoulders. She can't even protest, it made her feel good from all the exhaustion.  Then she sense that her chair was pulled to the coach. John Dory then lifted her all the way to the coach, laying her down, with pillows and blankets  being placed.

"John Dory... I can't-" She muttered, feeling her eyes drop when she sense the softness of the pillow, ready to fall asleep.

"Shhh..." He sat down, holding her hand. "You need to sleep, I promise I'll wake you up soon."

"B -but what about... the... village... the thieves... my niece?"

"I'll take care of them." He whispered.

"I swear.... John... Dory, if something... happens in this village.... I'll kick your bloody face." She threatened,  making John Dory internally gulped, yet she's still very  beautiful even when she's angry. Internally laughing at the thought.

"Don't worry, I got this m' lady."

She finally let's go and lose consciousness, sleeping peacefully.  John Dory watched his friend fall asleep, admiring her beauty, sighing in relief that she's finally resting. Hesitantly stroking her hair.

"You're so stubborn." He said to her, lovingly gazing at her. He didn't want to invade her personal space and wanting to respect that.  But he can't help it, he place her beautiful red hair aside and gave her forehead a quick peck. "I love you... Ms. grumpy lady,"

He giggled then got up and left, proceeded working on her desk. The scarlet haired woman was actually awake, feeling her heart screaming in joy from what he just say. She opened her eyes, and look at her beloved friend doing her work. She was a little worried of what's gonna happen, but she trusted him, cause she's known him for almost a year now, he's been helping her around the village. He's also been able to raise his brothers on his own and being able to work at the band, while managing finances in a young age.

"How did I get so lucky..." She thought. 

"I love you too,  idiot..." She whispered, drifting off to sleep.

[k-kizkhalifa]

oh have an excerpt from a fic i am working on bc i really loved this scene. ugh. draco being an adult. harry being a little nervous and uncomfortable. (probably posting the first part later today).

bro "kizinold anon" said the word: pink, and i said: lets write a WHOLE FKN FIC.

anyway, here is this:

Harry walked back down the hallway, thirty minutes later to find his whole den a mess. Draco, with his sleeves rolled up, was standing at the coffee table that he cleared off by quite literally just swiping everything to a pile on the floor, with Harry’s cup of coffee in hand  taking a drink. 

“What the fuck is this?” 

“Piles, organization, whatever you want to call it,” Draco answered after he swallowed, “why haven’t you told anyone about this?” 

“You all are so busy,” Harry shrugged, as he looked down at the coffee table. He eyes drug over Draco’s neat handwriting, Dementor Attacks. Werewolves Missing. Trolls Traveling. A piece of parchment sat above all else that read: North. 

“You think it is nothing?” 

“I plan on doing some asking around,” Harry lifted a shoulder, not meeting Draco’s look, “I’ll take care of it.” 

Draco frowned, “you know we’re all pretty capable wizards, though I do question that Boot, bloke, sometimes.” 

Harry chuckled, “why do you question Boot?” 

“He’s…” Draco lifted a slender shoulder, smiling, “not always friendly, let’s say.” 

“What?” 

Draco shrugged, “anyway, the point I’m trying to make, Potter. Is that you have a pretty capable team. Oh, Creevy is a shit show too.” He sighed, “you have about four of us, in office at all times, that are pretty damn good at what we do.” Draco couldn't really speak on the other team that they rotated at Azkaban with.

Harry smiled, “I know you all are good at what you do, that’s why I get to focus on these things.” 

“Is this about obligations outside the Ministry?” 

Harry sighed, and reached out taking his coffee mug from Draco, before he took his own drink and handed it back, pressing his fingers to his temple. “Everyone has their lives, they deserve to be able to go home and live them.” 

“I feel, just speaking out of hand here, Potter, but that means you get to live life outside of the Ministry, as well.” 

“I do,” Harry looked down at the table again, “so, it’s a lot of movement.” 

“It is,” Draco answered, “felt anything in that scar of yours, lately?” 

“Uhm, no.” Harry rubbed at the scar at the mention of it, “as far as I know, even if it was something to do with Voldemort, whatever part of him was inside of me is dead now. Right? Like that’s why I’m standing here, talking to you, Draco.” 

“Right, of course.” Draco nodded, “no, I haven’t felt anything either.” 

“I wasn't going to ask.” Harry said quickly, his eyes still trained on the papers, “I don’t imagine it’s Voldemort. I would like to think I managed that.” 

Draco chuckled, rolling his eyes, “right, of course.” He moved around Harry’s den, taking another drink of the coffee, as he sat on the edge of the armchair with a tired sigh. “Didn’t Weasley and Boot just take down that small group?” 

“A few weeks ago,” Harry nodded, his eyes drawn to the pink bag. He hated the fact he thought it, again. The thought of Draco Malfoy being the one to wear that pink lingerie set. He turned, forcing himself to look at the papers and willing his erection to just go away. “Why?” 

“Did they say anything? About things like this?” 

“Oh,” Harry cleared his throat and walked over to his briefcase, finding the report and pulling it out. He looked down at it, willing himself to just focus on reading it and not on the fact Draco Malfoy wouldn’t be wearing the pink lingerie set, but that his girlfriend would, and there wasn’t anything Harry could do about it. 

“Well?” 

Harry jumped, before shaking his head, “uh, sorry, Ron’s handwriting….” He sat the report on his desk, “looks like it was just a group of kids thinking about doing black market trades.” 

“Oh,” Draco frowned, “I’m sure they were beaten all to hell.” He added, quietly, finishing the coffee. 

Harry glanced over at the word choice, “what did ya mean Boot wasn’t always friendly?” 

“He’s a little heavy handed,” Draco lifted a shoulder, “okay, so, these reports have started coming in over the last few weeks, right?” 

“Yes, just a bit now.” Harry moved, sitting on the couch opposite Draco, watching the blonde think as he tried to work through it all. 

“What’s North? Besides cold?” His lips turned down, his eyes closed, and then he stood up and looked around. Harry watched him, confused, as the blonde seemed to make himself comfortable with the layout of Harry’s house. He grabbed the coffee mug, walked through the living room, and into the kitchen. Harry turned to watch him, wondering if Draco was like this everywhere he went. He heard him pouring himself another coffee, “cream?” He called, but before Harry could answer he heard the ice box open. 

Harry sat back, on the couch, and then Draco was next to him holding out a warm mug of coffee, just the way it had been. Harry noticed it was a new mug, Draco keeping the one he had been drinking out of. The one, really, Harry had been using before Draco appeared on his doorstep. 

“Azkaban,” Draco said quietly, moving to sit next to Harry, rather than across from him. “But, what is on the island these creatures could want?” He frowned, “aside from the prison?” 

Harry took a drink, trying not to look at the blonde who was making himself very comfortable. He frowned as the words settled around him. “I mean it is very well guarded.” 

Draco nodded, “I’m aware. Have you been out there lately?”

[raibebe]

D-3 Love Shot

Genre: fluff Words: 1.272 Prompt: hockey player Jeno x female reader Warnings: none

A/N: Day four of Jeno’s birthday celebration and the first sfw fic! I know it's kinda short but I hope our sweet yet shy hockey player was able to make someone smile!

previous< | Jeno birth celebration | >next

“You’re up awfully early,” Jaemin grumbled when he stepped out of his room, his sleeping shirt askew and with more than one questionable stain on it. “Had to get some stuff done before class,” you answered cryptically, “Coffee is already done. Don’t forget what I told you yesterday.” “Yeah, yeah. Be sneaky blah blah. Don’t read the note or you will murder me,” your roommate waved you off, raking a hand through his messy hair. “Jaem…” “I know, I know. No skipping classes. Being very secret about slipping Jeno the note. Otherwise, the whole surprise is ruined or something.” “Love you,” you smiled, quickly picking up the box of lunch prep you had been working on to stuff it into your backpack. “Yeah, yeah, go smooch your boyfriend for his birthday or something,” Jaemin laughed, cheering with his coffee mug. 

You had this whole day planned out for weeks and prepared little notes with small love letters on them to slip Jeno all day, even roped Jaemin into it to make it perfect. Of course, Jeno would know the notes were from you, unlike back when he was the one slipping you these little notes, but it was the thought that counted, the feelings you wanted to make him feel. 

The first note Jeno would find, you had already hidden yesterday when you had picked him up after practice for a quick dinner and slipped the note between his hockey gear. He had noticed that you had been extra giggly after, teasing you about it but ultimately he just smiled along with you, kissing you sweetly when he bid you goodbye at your doorstep after pouting when you had sent him home instead of inviting him in. 

For the second note, you needed to hurry up. The plan was to make a short detour to one of Jeno’s favorite cafés and pick up something sweet for his breakfast to sneak it into the locker room of the stadium. Praying to whichever entity was listening that you wouldn’t accidentally run into any of his teammates in a state of undress, you speed-walked over campus to make it in time. Maybe it would have been smarter to ask Winwin or someone else from the team for assistance. But it was too late for that now. Peeking into the stadium, you quickly found Jeno’s midnight blue hair that you had just helped him redye a week before when it had started to fade into a more minty color. Smiling, you carefully closed the door again to not make any sound before sneaking into the locker rooms, immediately finding Jeno’s bag that he had carelessly thrown onto the floor, his clothes a crumpled mess on the bench behind. Shaking your head, you quickly at least somewhat folded his clothes so he didn’t have to go about his day in messy clothing before you pulled out the second note you had written, placing the bag from the café on top. Smiling to yourself, you quickly got out the third note to hide it between the pages of Jeno’s notebook so he would find it when he took it out for his next class. 

“Bro, I hate morning practice,” you heard a loud voice just outside the locker room door. “And yet, you show up for every single one,” another voice replied, followed by a burst of laughter that you knew very well. Panic of being caught made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you sprinted to the second exit, not caring if the door slammed shut behind you as you took two stairs at a time so you wouldn’t be seen even if one of the boys was to run to the door to look out of it. Panting harshly, you speed-walked away from the stadium and to your own first class of today. While you had been thinking about this plan for a very long time, it might still have a flaw or two when your phone rang with Jeno’s specific ringtone, a beautiful picture of him smiling right at you. 

“Good morning,” you tried to sound cheerful and absolutely not like you had just run up a flight of stairs. “Mooorning,” Jeno pulled out the first syllable of the word. “Is your practice over already?” You tried to rope him into a conversation. “Yeah, coach let us off early. Did you by any chance sneak into our locker room?” He cut straight to the point. “No?” You lied, trying your hardest to sound very confused, “Why would I sneak into your locker room?” “So you didn’t just run out when we were coming in?” “Why would I first sneak in and then run back out?” “I don’t know, maybe so you could bring me breakfast?” By now you were able to hear the smile in your boyfriend’s voice which calmed your furiously beating heart at least a little bit. “And leave a very cute note for me?” “If I had time to see you after your practice, I would have stayed and not ran away,” you tried to deny it one last time now that you were sure, he wasn’t mad. “Absolutely sure the sweetbread wasn’t from you?” “Croissant,” you corrected him immediately before realizing that he had caught you in the act when the sound of his laughter rang loud through your speaker. “Come back, sweetheart,” he laughed. “You weren’t supposed to find me,” you whined but turned back around to instead walk right back to the stadium, your literature class be damned. “I can pretend, I didn’t find out,” Jeno simply giggled, “And we can have breakfast together.”  “Go shower before I change my mind.” “And you stop pouting,” he added before you could hang up on him.

“I can’t believe it took you two notes to catch me,” you whined when Jeno stepped out of the stadium, his hair still a little damp. “Not everyone can be as sneaky as I am,” he simply laughed, wrapping you up in a hug, “I do appreciate your effort though. And the letter was really sweet.” “Happy birthday,” you sighed, separating just enough from him so you could press a sweet kiss to his lips. “Don’t be disappointed,” he laughed, quickly pecking your pout. “But it was supposed to be special for your special day.” “You’re making it special, secret love letters or not,” he reassured you, catching your lips in a languid kiss to get his point across. 

“I don’t think I can give them to you when I can see your reaction though,” you mumbled, hiding your heated face in his neck to hug him close. “Why not? You know I won’t laugh.” “I’ll get all shy and flustered anyways.” “So I don’t get to read the rest of what you wrote for me?” “How would you have felt if you saw me reading your notes?” You pouted. “Well… There was a reason why I gave you notes instead of talking to you directly,” he admitted, pink dusting his cheeks. “See?” “But I want to read them. I really do,” he pouted right back, making you giggle fondly. “Maybe if you come to dinner with me? I’ll throw Jaemin out and we can try to cook something.” “I can read them while you take a shower if you don’t want to see my reaction,” he proposed. “Or I will just keep sneaking you more.” That made him laugh fondly, quickly kissing you again. “You can try but I will not let you out of my sight anymore today,” he promised, intertwining your fingers. “You’re on, Lee Jeno,” you grinned, playfully narrowing your eyes at him. 

[crescentchat]

here me out: modern influencer au where thorne is a famous podcasting bro and cress runs an anon commentary channel that gets really popular. cress used to be a fan of thorne but makes a video critiquing his new content that blows up. thorne then catches wind of this, gets pissed, and asks her to be on the show so he can try and defend himself. but when they finally meet, something weird happens and yeah i’ll let you write the rest😏

Wasn't sure about this prompt but then i started writing in and fell completely in love! might continue too. thanks for suggesting!!

"God, Thorne, stop bouncing your leg. You're making the table rattle." Cinder said, accompanied with a jesting flick to his head.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Thorne did not stop bouncing his leg, however. In fact, he added more drama to his nervous ticks, raking his fingers through his hair and rocking back and forth.

Cinder still paid no mind to his antics, setting down her mug of coffee on the table and adjusting her mic accordingly. "What are so nervous about?"

"What am I nervous about?" He parroted.

"Yes, that's what I asked."

He scoffed. "Well, I don't know. Have you ever been in the same room with someone who hates your guts?"

Cinder quirked an eyebrow. "Does an abusive step-aunt count?"

"Oh, um, yes," Thorne stuttered. "But I guess. Did your best friend ever invite her to your podcast to talk about why she hates you though?"

"You're overreacting so hard right now. The Shell does not hate you, she said she used to be a fan."

"Yeah! Used to be a fan! Now she's biding my downfall..."

She rolled her eyes to the sky. "I don't know. She said she didn't like the vlogs you were putting out with those other guys. That doing this was a lot more-" Cinder cleared her throat, "-intellectually impactful. Which I agree with by the way. And I think you agree with her too."

Thorne cringed at himself. He hated those vlogs more than anyone else in the room- but it really brought in the money. He thought Cinder would understand until The Shell contacted him and said he was excited to meet them.

"Chill. I talked to her over the phone a few times, she seems really sweet despite her video. Also she's coming all the way from Canada, so do not be more rude than you already are."

As if on queue, the door to the recording studio swung open. "I think that's Cress and Jacin. Let's go say hi."

Thorne stood up from his seat, straightening his shirt. "Cress? Who's that?"

"Oh, that's her real name. Crescent Moon." Cinder said, pushing the door open that lead into the tech room.

"What kind of hippy-dippy name is-"

He looked at two pairs of blonde heads taking off their coats. Jacin's familiar bleach-colored (and frankly gross) ponytail, but then a new shade. Honey blonde hair, twisted into one long braid cascading past her shoulders.

His words caught in her throat when he looked at her face though.

Thorne wasn't expecting a troll by any means, but definitely wasn't expecting someone this utterly adorable. He wondered why she didn't show her face in her videos- she could really pull in some monetary gain with a face like that.

Her face turned red, but she held out her hand. "Hi."

He flashed a signature grin. "Nice to meet you, Cress."

"Oh. You know my name."

"Of course I do. I do my research."

"And you sound like a creep-" Cinder said, nudging him with an elbow. "I told him your name, like, 3 seconds ago. Your identity is safe with me."

"You invited me here and didn't know my name?" Cress said, pressing her lips together into a thin line.

Okay, she was a blushing mess a few seconds ago but was suddenly getting confrontational. It was making Thorne a little nervous. Adorable on the outside, sure, but just as scathing as her video.

"No, no. I invited you without telling him. A bit of a surprise."

She let out a little 'aaahh' in understanding before Jacin loudly started fidgeting with the technology.

"We were having trouble with Cress' bag at the airport, so we're a bit behind. We go live in 5 minutes though and I need to set everything up." He said.

"Ah, yeah. Here, I'll show you around."

The space wasn't huge, so the tour was really just Cinder pointing to either side of the room and leading them into the recording room. When they sat down and adjusted the mic accordingly, Cinder explained a general overview of what it was going to look like and all Thorne could do was awkwardly stare at Cress.

Soon, too soon, Jacin started counting off. "We're live in 3... 2... 1... and..."

___________________________

The podcast ended, after an hour or two of talking. Thorne doesn't know how long, this girl was making him loose track of time. He was starting to develop a little crush on her.

They were still engaging in friendly conversation, even after it ended, and Jacin had left for home a long time ago. Cinder was still there, though on her phone, sometimes adding in input.

Cress was great though. He really wished he had watched more than the one video about him on her channel. She was so intelligent, and had an oxymoronic air of graceful awkwardness. Even so, she was still well spoken.

Okay, maybe it was a bit bigger than a little crush.

"How long are you staying in New York?"

She laced her fingers together and propped up her elbows, resting her chin of top of her hands. "Just a week."

"Got any plans for the night? I was gonna third-wheel on Cinder and her fiance, but if you tagged along that would make it less awkward for them."

"It wouldn't be awkward for you?"

"I never make anything awkward," Thorne said with a wink.

"I know a few people from our high school who would disagree with that." Cinder butted in.

"Don't listen to her," Thorne jokingly waved his hand in dismiss. "Come to dinner with us."

Cress blushed, and smiled with pearly teeth. "Alright."

___________________________

[duskholland]

The Fame Game (Part Eight) - Tom Holland

Summary ↠ Time is ticking, and Tom can’t quite comes to term with it.

Warnings ↠ Angst, Tom is really stupid, nsfw smut scenes (as in part six, it’s outlined with line breaks so you can avoid it if you want). 

Word count ↠ 5.7k

A/N ↠ Yikes.

EIGHT: Time Is Ticking (T)

Tom’s back in LA, and he’s missing you. 

It’s been a while since he’s seen you. Several weeks, since he’d flown over to New York for fashion week. He’d had a great time, and owes a lot to your team for allowing him the opportunity of walking the carpets by your side. As much as he’d tried to understand the world of high-fashion, Tom hadn’t quite grasped the point of watching a line of identical models strut down the catwalk in obscure outfits, but he knows he’d sit through it all again if you were at his side. Tom knows he’d do almost anything for you.

It’s hard, now. There’s less than a month left before your relationship is dismantled by PR. In order to stir up some doubt about the status of your union, Tom’s under strict instruction he’s not allowed to interact with you publicly anymore. No Instagram stories, no tweets. No tagging you in his favourite memes because the fans would see it. And of course, Tom just sends the memes through DMs, but it’s different. It’s different, and it feels like hiding, and he hates this feeling of impending doom.

Tom is being crushed by the weight of what’s to come, and he really, really does not want your relationship to come to an end. 

“Chin up, moody. Wouldn’t want the wind to change direction and leave you stuck like that.”

Tom grimaces, looking up to see Harrison grinning at him, a brightness in his eyes that makes Tom bristle. He’s so deep within his brooding that the sight of someone feeling so happy makes him annoyed.

“Shut up,” he mutters, bringing up a lazy hand to flip him off. “You’re such a bully, Harrison.”

Harrison rolls his eyes. “Would a bully fly all the way to LA, just to keep you company?” He replies.

Tom snorts. “You’re my assistant, Harrison.” He smirks. “Why don’t you be a good one, and run off and make me some tea, eh?” 

“Oh, you’re a twat.” Harrison hesitates, but then much to Tom’s amusement, he stands from the sofa and stretches out his arms. “I will make tea,” he says, “But only because I want some too.” 

“Whipped.”

Harrison turns around when he reaches the doorway, raising an accusing eyebrow. “Rich coming from you, Tom.” 

Tom doesn’t particularly want to linger on that, so responds by lying down over the large sofa and yawning as he pulls a blanket over his figure. He’s staying in a large rented house in Hollywood, working on his new film. It’s a rare day off, which means he’s spending his time getting harassed by Harrison and trying not to let his thoughts descend down same rabbit hole he’s been circling since he realised how near your relationship’s expiration date is.

Tom hates feeling powerless. He hates that there’s no way out of this. It’s not like he can ask to extend the contract - what right would he have to do that? He’s sure you’ll be eager to get back into the dating game, keen to leave him behind. The arrangement has done so much for your image already, Tom’s almost certain you’ll be out of it the moment you can. But he’ll miss you, and he’ll miss openly tagging you in memes and watching the fans coo over your relationship, and he’ll miss walking down red carpets with his hand on your lower back. He’ll miss you beyond anything he could comprehend, and that thought is truly terrifying.

“A tea, for Mr Hollywood.” Harrison reappears, carrying two mugs of steaming brews. Tom smiles, looking up from the sofa to watch as his friend clumsily places one of them down on the coffee table, a line of brown liquid spilling over the top.

“You spilt a bit just there,” Tom points out, grinning mischievously when Harrison snarls at him. 

“Anyone ever told you that you’re a proper wanker?”

Tom laughs as Harrison sits down on the edge of his sofa, pushing Tom’s feet off the cushions. “I’ve heard that once or twice, yeah,” he replies, thinking of you, and you, and you.

Tom can’t stop thinking about you.

There’s a few moments of silence, and Tom can feel Harrison gearing up to say something. He has that perplexed expression on his face - his eyebrows pulled together, eyes shifting around almost guiltily. 

“Are you okay?” Harrison asks, after what feels like an eternity of watching him open and close his mouth. “You’ve been a bit… stressed, recently.”

Tom shrugs, finally sitting up so he can start drinking his tea. “I am stressed.” His fingers go to the bridge of his nose. “Everything’s so messed up.” 

“With Y/N?” 

Tom shrugs haplessly. “I’m not allowed to see her.” 

Neither of you had known that the last time you’d be seen together, happily, would’ve been a restaurant date last week. Tom hadn’t known as he’d pulled out your chair that it’d be the last time he’d perform the action, hadn’t known as he’d played footsie with you under the table that it’d be the last time he’d make you laugh. Management plan to reunite you in four weeks for your ‘break up’, but the circumstances then will be far different to the night you’d spent together, drinking wine, dining fine, and holding hands across the table. Tom would have done so many things differently if he’d known that would’ve been the last chance he’d had to kiss you.

Harrison raises his eyebrows. “You’re not allowed to be seen with her,” he corrects. When Tom looks at him blankly, Harrison reaches out to hit at his knee. “Mate, you’ve got a day off today. What’s stopping you from seeing her?” 

Tom blinks a few times. “But… They said we aren’t allowed to.”

“And? Fuck them. We can work something out.”

Tom takes a sip of his tea, looking up at Harrison over the brim. “Love you, bro.” 

In the end, it turns out to be a lot more complicated than either Tom or Harrison had anticipated. The house they’re renting is tucked up in an exclusive part of the Hills, and the gates are always lined with paparazzi. If they were to spot you entering the district, it’d be reported that the two of you were on perfect terms, violating PR’s golden rule. 

So, Harrison goes out in his car, picks you up, and makes you hide in the backseat when you go past the gates. Tom stays behind, but he’s there to greet you when you fall out the back of the car, grimacing and stretching out your sore muscles. You’re in a pair of sunglasses and there’s large hoodie pulled up over your head, and you light up when you see him. 

“Hey,” you greet, hobbling over to Tom. You press your lips to his cheek, and the touch makes him smile. 

“Hi, darling.” One of Tom’s hands goes to your shoulder, and the other pulls down your hood and pushes up your sunglasses before he has time to really think about it. He just wants to see your pretty eyes again, and his heart softens when you blink up at him, smiling warmly. “Sorry about Haz. I hope it wasn’t too uncomfortable for you.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to look at where Harrison’s sitting in the front of the car. Seeing both of you staring, he waves sheepishly.

“It was alright,” you say. “I mean, hurt a bit. He made me hide in the footwell. But it should be worth it.” You smile up at Tom, almost shyly, rocking back on your feet. “Harrison’s going out for a few hours, but he said he’d take me back home afterwards. So…” You trail off, stepping a little closer. Tom’s breath hitches as your hands wind around his neck, and all he can focus on is the scent of your sweet perfume. “What are we going to do?”

Tom starts off by giving you a grand tour of the house. You gasp and coo as he guides you around, and you don’t shake off his hand when he slips your fingers together - in fact, you only seem to sink further into him, leaning into Tom’s arm, cheek on his shoulder. Tom loves the feeling of you so close again, but it messes with his head. There is turmoil wrestling in his heart, and it’s growing worse by the second.

“So, that’s the place,” he finally says. You’ve finished up the tour in the kitchen, and you’ve made yourself at home sitting on the polished marble counter. Tom watches as you swing your feet, your customised converse hitting off the cabinets. “What do you think?” 

He doesn’t know where to stand, what to do, where to look. There’s a hot flush at the back of his neck, and Tom finds himself nervously standing back against the cupboards across from you, trying his best to meet your eyes. He doesn’t know why he’s finding it so hard to look at you, but the tightness in his chest is almost painful. It’s as if his body knows that heartbreak is inevitable, and it’s trying to do everything in his power to rebel against it. 

“Pretty swanky,” you reply. “The bachelor pad to rival all bachelor pads.” You stretch out your hands, looking at Tom curiously. “Why are you so far away?” You ask, almost a whine. “Are you hiding from me?”

Tom realises he’s cowering in the corner of the kitchen and makes a very conscious effort to loosen up. When he sees you’ve still got your hands outstretched, he moves forwards and takes them, linking up your fingers and hoping you can’t feel his sweaty palms. 

“Just…” Tom trails off, trying to sort through his feelings. You roll your thumbs over his knuckles, and he settles between your legs, pressing up against the counter as he tries to decide which of his emotions he should part with, and which he should keep close to his chest. You bring one of his hands to your mouth, and Tom’s breath hitches as you kiss gently over his knuckles, looking up at him with warm eyes. “I’m glad I could see you again,” he says slowly, a little distracted by the way you’re continuing to kiss his hands, over and over. “I wasn’t sure we’d be able to meet up again, before the breakup.”

You hum, finally moving his fingers from your mouth. You drop his hands, and Tom rests his palms on your knees. In return, you drape your fingers over his shoulders. 

“Yeah,” you agree, voice quiet. “I’m glad, too.”

There’s silence between you, and Tom can feel your mutual despondence. It’s hard to put into words the feeling, but in your eyes is a weakened sadness he can feel in his heart, heavy and unrelenting.

“Hey.” He squeezes at your knee, and your lips quirk into a slight smile. “At least we have today, yeah?”

“Mm, true.” You seem to shuffle around on the counter, pulling Tom a little nearer. It’s so easy, how you’ve got your arms draped around his neck, your fingers playing with the tips of his hair. Tom stays still as you bring one hand up to his face, tapping with a few fingertips over the warm skin of his forehead. “What’s going on up here? You seem a little off.”

Tom’s smile becomes forced. Of course you, like Harrison, have picked up on his turmoil. You’ve always been able to see right through him.

“Just thinking.” When you raise an eyebrow, Tom bottles it. He can’t talk to you about it. Not when it involves a conversation to do with feelings that will become redundant and unnecessary in four weeks. Your fates are sealed, so what’s the point opening up when doing so will ruin your last day together? “Thinking about how beautiful you are, love. Did I tell you how lovely you look today?”

You seem to like that. Tom smiles genuinely as you bite your lower lip, your hand slipping down to cup his face. He’s so close to you, he can almost count your eyelashes. 

“I know you’re just saying that to change the subject, but I appreciate it anyway.” You pause, your eyes alight with something Tom can’t quite place. “You have so many freckles, Tom,” you add, thumb passing over his cheek. “They’re pretty.”

“Thanks,” he replies, voice softer. There’s a warmth in his face, spiralling out from each point of contact, and Tom can’t stop looking at your lips. He wants to kiss you, just for a moment. Just a moment of your lips together, light and easy, like always. He craves it. “Can I kiss you?”

A small smile breaks out across your face, and you nod quickly. “You don’t need to ask, Tom. I like kissing you.”

Tom’s cheeks are hot and his throat feels dry, but he nods. “Okay,” he says. It’s a little awkward now, but you share a laugh, and he knows you feel some of the discomfort in the air. Tom clears his throat, and then closes his eyes, leaning in.

You kiss, slowly, but it isn’t light and easy like he’d wanted. There is no escape from the turmoil in his heart. Tom’s hands slip up to your waist, resting on the curves of your figure as your lips move together, but the whole time you’re connected, Tom feels at odds, conflict rife in his chest. Part of him wants to kiss you forever, but another wishes he’d never touched your lips because he knows he’ll need to pull away in a few hours, and that’ll be the end. He wishes he’d never known how nice it was to feel your lips on his because the pain of knowing he’ll never feel them again is like a sledgehammer to the heart. 

“Loosen up, Tom,” you murmur, your mouths still together. You pull away, pressing your forehead to his, and Tom feels you run your hands through his hair. You smell of sweet flowers. “You’re thinking too much.”

He chuckles, the sound coming out through his teeth. Tom tries to unclench his jaw and takes a moment to look at you. He tries to compartmentalise, tries to sort through his feelings, and shelf some of them for a few hours. He doesn’t want to spend your last day together worrying over the future - he wants to spend it wrapped up in you.

“You always know what I need,” Tom murmurs. He smiles at you, and this time it’s easier.

“I try my best,” you respond, your lips mirroring his. Tom kisses you again, and his arms curl around you properly this time. You sink into him, your hands slipping down to hold his back as you push yourself closer. It grows heated quickly, and Tom feels you whine into his mouth when he drags his tongue along your lower lip, his body humming to life with dazzling electricity as he tries to drink it all in. Drink you all in.

“Mm, Tom.” You pull back, breathless, and Tom notes with a smirk that your pretty lips are puffy and inflamed. Your eyes dance with lust, and Tom jumps as you reach down and slip your hands beneath his shirt. Your fingers are warm against his skin, and Tom lets you pull him nearer. “G’nna miss kissing you,” you admit, murmuring. “I love kissing you.” You pause, and Tom’s heart is in his throat. “I love your lips, too. And your hair.” You lean in, kissing Tom’s cheek before nuzzling your face against his head. Your hands drop away from Tom’s back, and he holds you in a tight hug, his eyes watching the way you turn away from him as you bury your face in his chest. “I love your hugs as well.”

“Seems like you love a lot of things about me.” His voice is weak, slightly clipped. 

“I do.” 

“Funny, isn’t it?” Tom’s still hoarse, his voice failing him. 

“What?” You peel away from his chest to look at him, eyes wide. He sees insecurity floating around in your gaze, and he feels a little like he’s shattered you. “What’s funny?”

Tom gulps. “Just, uh, how much things have changed.” He shifts his hands up to your face, cupping your cheeks and trying to coax a smile back onto your face. “Wouldn’t have thought we’d be capable of feeling anything other than hate towards one another. Crazy how a few months can change so much.”

You’re scrunching up your nose, a line forming between your eyebrows. “Well, I suppose.” Your softer tone has gone, replaced by a more rigid sense of finality. Tom gets the very prominent feeling that he’s somehow managed to ruin a special moment, and he fumbles to correct his mistake.

“Anyway,” he mutters. He inhales, and on the exhale, his lips twist back into a slightly suggestive smirk. You sit up straighter, clearing your throat as you toss out your hair and move your hands back to his waist. “I don’t think we were finished kissing, were we?”

Somehow you end up in the living room, kissing, and kissing, and kissing. Tom feels sixteen again, full of teenage jitters and nervous hands. His palms are sweaty and he can feel the flush on his cheeks, but you don’t seem to care.

**** sfw has left the chat ****

No, you seem perfectly content exactly where you are - which just so happens to be half-naked, laid out over the curves of Tom’s sofa. Somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom, he’d suggested you bunker down and take a break on the couch, which had spiralled into this: you, bare from the waist down, in only a lacy bra up top, legs spread as Tom burrows himself between your thighs. His hands are on your hips, holding you down as he runs his tongue through your slit, moaning as he watches you unravel above him.

It’d escalated quickly. What had been a few eager kisses in the kitchen had surged to something far greater, and the second Tom had pulled at your waistband and heard you whine in response, he’d been fucked. He’d decided, after the last one night stand, that he’d never take on this activity with you again - not without clearing the air and figuring out which page you were on, but… Well, he couldn’t help himself. What was he supposed to do, stop with his tongue on your clit to ask you if you’d like to dissect the ins and outs of your relationship? As if.

But he knows he has to. Knows it in his bones. Tom is only too aware that today is the last chance he has to make things clear to you, and he’s finally resolved that he’s not going to blow that chance. He just might stall the conversation with a few orgasms first, though.

“Fuck,” you whine. Your hands are buried in his curls as you guide his movements, and Tom lets you use him as a prop. He’s learning your body, mapping you out with his hands and his mouth, and he’s delighted to slip two fingers into your wet heat and feel you cry out in pleasure. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.”

Tom hums, his mouth sucking around your clit. Sounds of your arousal fill the air as he fucks his fingers into you, opening your passage until you’re moaning.

“Tom, Tom.” Your voice is like music to his ears. The loveliest sound, lilted like an angel. He brings his gaze up in response, and Tom feels his cock twitch as he takes in the sweaty glow on your face, the lust in your eyes. “So- so good, fuck.” Your breath hitches and Tom hums against your cunt. “Wait, wait, I don’t- No, I don’t want to cum like this.” You’re pulling at his curls, and Tom immediately pulls away, letting his fingers draw back from your entrance. “Don’t look so worried,” you add, voice breathless, “Just wanna cum with you inside me.”

“Oh.” Tom’s head spins as you pull him above you, and he lets you drag off his shirt. As you run your fingers over his chest, he lets a small curse fall past his lips. “Not got any condoms in here, love,” he mutters. “I’ll have to go and find some.”

To his surprise, you follow him as Tom stands from the sofa, your hand slipping into his. Your other goes up to his mouth, and Tom laughs as you wipe the mix of spit and arousal from his lips before leaning in to kiss him, tenderly. Your mouth lingers on his for a moment, and Tom smiles at you.

“Lead the way, movie star.”

After cursing you out a fair amount, Tom leads you up through the large house. He has to stop every few moments, overcome with a giddy desire to kiss you or run his fingers through your hair, or just look at you, and as he lays you down on his bed and boxes you in with his arms, he feels a deep swell of appreciation for you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters, speaking beneath his breath. Tom groans as you spread your legs and shuffle down the bed, and you push his hips until he’s settled between your thighs, his cock pressing up against your entrance. Tom’s head dips down, and he can’t quite look at your face as he scatters his lips across your collarbones. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“Oh, shush,” you say, giggling when Tom playfully nips at your skin. You’re running your hands over his back. “I’m lucky.” You twist some of your fingers into his hair, and Tom knows exactly what you want. 

“Are you ready?” He asks, drawing a line up to your ear with his lips. Tom’s already taken the time marking up your neck, has enjoyed hearing your small whimpers of enjoyment as he’d staked his claim over the column of your throat, disregarding all the warnings from PR. Your voice like honey, mewling for him. He loved hearing those sounds. 

“Yes.”

You come together, your figures intertwining as Tom fills you with one slow thrust. He grabs your hands, linking your palms together as he grunts, setting a pace that has your eyes rolling back. It isn’t fast by any means, but there’s purpose behind his actions, an innate desire to please you. He pays close attention to the movements of your body: the gyration of your hips down to meet his, the arching of your back, any hitches in your breath. Tom wants to know every part of you, and you’re spread open like a book for him. 

“Love it,” you whimper, your face a picture of pleasure. The hand not joined with Tom’s slips between your figures, and Tom adjusts himself so you have access to your clit. He wishes, briefly, that he would’ve been able to unravel you on his tongue earlier, but when you cry out and clench around his cock, he knows this is better. This is so, so, so much better. “So good, Tom.” 

His lips move over your skin, kissing you, and after a while of Tom paying special attention to the base of your neck, you tug at his curls and bring him back to your face, kissing him. There’s a sense of deep understanding between you - mutual enjoyment as he works you up with deep, fulfilling thrusts. Tom kisses you until he runs out of air, and fucks you until you’re whimpering. 

“Feels so fuckin’ tight around me, darling,” he murmurs. “Gorgeous girl.” Tom wishes he could find a way to immortalise this moment. “Are you going to cum for me, lovie?” You nod, and Tom pecks your lips a final time. “Go on, then, sweetheart. Let go.”

Your climax triggers his own, and Tom feels you spasm around him as he spills into the condom. You cradle his cheek in one hand, and you moan into his mouth as you move together, bodies perfectly in sync. Tom’s almost shaking, his body on fire as he gradually slows down, his eyes full of a shaky film of tears. His length slips out from you as he pants for breath. 

**** sfw has entered the chat ****

Like last time, Tom finds respite on your chest as he recovers, your hands finding home in his hair as you soothe him with your touch, calming him, grounding him. 

“Fuck,” you exhale, voice a breathless whisper. Tom tilts his head, looking up to meet your eyes, and he quickly blinks back the tears that hang thick in his gaze. “Are you alright?”

Tom nods. He’s got a lump in his throat, so is quick to pull away from you fall beside you, sinking into the mattress with a shaky sigh. One of his hands rests on his stomach, the other linking with yours.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking over at you. When he sees the concern in your eyes, he kisses the back of your hand softly. “Think I need a tea, or something. Feeling a bit weird.”

You quirk your eyebrow, but hum. “Well, tea can fix almost anything,” you agree. “I can go make you one, if you need to rest.” You’re up and standing before Tom can stop you, and he realises you’d managed to carry all of your clothes to the bedroom. As you start to draw them back on, he pulls himself together.

“I’ll come with you.”

After a brief stop in the bathroom, and with a pair of loose grey sweats hanging low on Tom’s waist, he follows you back through the house, into the kitchen. His mind is spinning at a thousand miles an hour. Now that he’s had you - kissed you, held you, loved you - there’s nothing left. There’s nothing left to stall with, there’s nothing left to lose. Time is ticking by, and one glance up at the clock confirms that he only has about ten minutes until Harrison comes back. That realisation drives a wedge of anxiety into his heart. 

“You take it strong with no sugar, right?” You call out. You’ve poured the hot water into two mugs, a deep line carved between your eyebrows as you prod at one of the teabags with a metal teaspoon. 

Tom looks at you. He looks at the way you carefully poke the teabag and the way you seem to glow. He remembers the feeling of your hands roaming over him, the sounds of your voice in his ear. He thinks about how happy his heart feels whenever he’s around you, and how stark that contrast is compared to how he used to think about you. Tom’s insides clench as he thinks about the contract, the relationship agreement, the clock that’s counting down on the wall, and he can’t take it anymore.

“Eh? Tom? No sugar, yeah?”

Tom can’t keep it inside any longer.

“I love you.”

What?!

“W-What?” You drop the teaspoon with a clatter. Your eyes are wide, posture stiff all of a sudden. Complete and utter shock sticks to your features.

Tom finds himself stammering, his brain catching up, slowly, to the furious beating of his heart.

“I- I love you.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, doesn’t know where to look. “I…” 

You look shocked. Tom isn’t sure he’s ever seen someone so astounded before. Immediately regret pangs in his chest, and he finds himself cursing himself for opening his big, selfish mouth and ruining everything between you. He can see your eyes darting everywhere, resting on the front door, and he panics. 

“-No… Wait, no.” 

“No?” You have a hand on your hip now, your face the picture of hurt confusion. 

Tom’s hands clench into fists at his side, and he knows he’s made a mistake. He had been prepared to ask you to stay, to tell you he wanted a relationship. He had not been prepared to tell you that he loves you, least of all because he himself hadn’t considered the possibility until he’d blurted it out. Why’s he picked now, out of every other moment, to profess this love for you, infuriates him. You’re looking at him, flabbergasted, and Tom can practically see your fragile friendship disintegrating before his eyes. 

“I mean- I- I got confused. Sorry, Y/N.” Tom’s running a hand through his hair, his face on fire. “Sorry, I… The feelings get confused. The- The lines between what’s real, and fake. Especially with the- the-”

“The sex.” You’re almost nodding now, stroking at your chin, but Tom can see the pools of hurt in your eyes. “It gets confusing, doesn’t it?”

Tom manages a tight laugh. “Yes. Yes, it gets very confusing.” You’re in agreement, but he knows you aren’t on the same page. You are so far from the same page, he wonders if you’re even reading the same book. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s... okay.” You rock back on your feet.

A silence descends between you, and Tom can’t say a thing. Can’t think a thing. His brain is trapped, moving between you, and you, and you, and his heart. Does he actually love you?

Tom hasn’t ever contemplated the fact that he might, actually, love you. He knows he wants to be with you, knows he does not want you to walk out of his front door - but love? Maybe it’s crossed his mind, once or twice. Or a few times. 

Staring at you now - at the way your eyes are full of tears, and your hands are shaking at your sides - Tom feels it. With a sick, twisted stroke of fate, he realises he’d been speaking from within. Tom realises that he loves you.

It’s been the small things. The way you are so competitive, the ambition that you bring to everything you touch. Tom remembers the day he’d gone to the cinema and found himself in pieces over your performance, in admiration over your ability to take him to another world. He thinks about your trip to London, and how easily you’d slipped into life with him - his family loves you, his dog adores you. He adores you. 

Shit, Tom adores you. He loves your smile, and your laugh, and almost every single thing about you. And he’s absolutely fucked it. 

“I’ve made things really awkward now, haven’t I?” Tom mutters, scratching at the back of his neck. He hopes you can’t make out the outline of his heart, beating painfully quickly in his chest, but you seem to be avoiding looking at him. He doesn’t know what to do: backtrack and tell you that he, for a second time, spoke inaccurate feelings? Tom knows that’ll just further hurt your friendship, add insult to injury. It is so clear from your demeanour now that your view of him has soured.

“Yeah.” Your phone buzzes on the counter, and you scramble to pick it up. “Harrison,” you mutter, still avoiding Tom’s gaze. “He’s outside. I’m going to go.”

The path to the front door winds by Tom and he manages to pull himself together just fast enough to reach out and grab your arms, stopping you in your tracks.

“Love.” You aren’t looking at him, even as Tom brings a hand up to hold your cheek. You flinch away, and he immediately drops all contact with your figure, feeling guilt hang heavy in his heart. Tom doesn’t know if he should keep talking or just shut up. He doesn’t want to do more damage by laying out his heart for you, doubts you’ll even care. “I’m sorry.”

You finally look up at him, your jaw set resolvedly. 

“It’s fine,” you say. “You’ve never been the smoothest, Tom. You put on a big act in front of the cameras, but I know you.” You reach up to pat his shoulder, but quickly move off as if the contact hurts. “I know who you really are.” 

It’s cryptic and layered, and Tom’s still puzzling it as he watches you walk around the living room, collecting your things. 

“Do you want to stay?” He asks. You look up as you pull on your jacket, shaking your head. 

“No.” You slip your phone into your pocket. “I don’t think we have anything left to talk about, Tom.”

He can’t get a read on you, beyond the fact that you’re hurt. Tom wonders if you’re near tears because both of you know this is the last time you’ll be privately together, or maybe if you’re mourning the loss of your friendship. He knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that his stupid big mouth, with his confused, contradictory statements have tainted the last eve of your relationship. He isn’t sure clarifying it would make it better, even. Your reaction to his initial declaration of love had been one of shock - and that in itself had told Tom all he needed to know about the likelihood of reciprocation. Maybe that rejection had spurred him on to shoot himself in the foot.

Or maybe, simply, he’s a fool.

“Bye, Tom.” 

You’re at the door now, halfway over the threshold. He isn’t sure if you’re going to turn around, until you do, and toss out a brief, broken smile. He realises you’re wearing the shoes he’d decorated. 

“Bye, Y/N.”

As the door clicks shut with a crisp, cold sound, Tom slumps against the counter and bangs his fist on the marble top. Above the noise in his head and the ache in his chest, one very prominent thought rises to the surface:

He’s fucked it - Tom has fucked it. He’s confused his feelings, and in his attempts at speaking from the heart, he’s managed to tear down the entire structure of your friendship. Your friendship - which has taken five months to construct, and a mere five minutes to completely shatter. With no more scheduled encounters with you before the breakup, Tom knows he hasn’t even got time to fix it. 

Tom knows, above everything else, that he has steered your relationship straight into the rocks, and he has done that all by himself. This is completely his fault, and he doesn’t know if he can fix it. But he knows, too, that he has a responsibility to try - a responsibility to try and stick these messy, broken pieces back together. He doesn’t want to lose you.

He knows he needs to try. 

↠ next part

[lauras-collection]

beyond being friends | part 1

Harrison Osterfield x Holland!Reader

|| Masterlist || Series Masterlist ||

Summary: What happens when you suddenly realise you’re attracted to your brother’s best friend?

When you and Harrison cross the line between friendship and something more, it makes everything more complicated than the average ‘being more than friends’ relationship. Because he’s your brothers best friend and you’re all living together.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of toxic  (ex)friendships, smut in future chapters

A/N: THIS IS NOT A DRILL! It’s finally here! Can you believe it, because i can’t. I hope you like it!

special thanks to @duskholland​ for coming up with the title so i could keep the BBF abbreviation without downright calling it Brother’s Best Friend and being BBF’s biggest fan since the first time i told you about it 🥺

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️

You always thought that when you’d eventually move out, you’d move into a small flat in the city centre or student housing for uni. But you never imagined moving into a house that’s a literal five-minute walk from your parents' house with two of your brothers and their best friend. With Tuwaine moving out because of his new job, a room in Tom’s house became available and since Sam had his own place close to his cookery school, you’d been the first person to be asked to take the room. And you jumped at the opportunity.

You liked to be around your parents and Paddy, but you did crave a bit of the independence your older brothers seemed to have. Granted, Harry and Sam were only minutes older than you, but they never failed to remind you of that. Either way, you were now no longer living with your parents and it filled you with a sense of pride. 

Okay, you didn’t have to pay rent, just part of the additional costs, which was not really part of the typical experience when moving out, but you won’t complain. There has to be a benefit to your brother being an international movie star, right? 

“How do you feel now that you’re the only one living in this house who isn’t a Holland?” Tuwaine asks Harrison who’s leaning against the kitchen island his arms crossed over his chest.

“At this point, he might as well be” Sam interjects before Harrison can even open his mouth. “I swear he spends more time with our family than I do” 

“That’s because you’re too busy becoming the next Gordon Ramsey” Tom teases and nudges Sam’s shoulder. 

“Funny” Sam looks at him with a deadpan expression, you can’t help but snigger. 

“Hey, you’re the one who’s away for the majority of the year” You jump to Sam’s defence. Because if one of the Holland siblings is too busy for anything it’s Tom.

“Fair enough” Tom raises his hands in surrender. 

“How long was it that you’re leaving next time? Six months?” Harrison raises one eyebrow.

“Oh c’mon, it’s only four” Tom rolls his eyes with a chuckle. He’s laughing, but all of you know that he hates being gone from home for so long. That’s why he takes someone with him most of the times. This time, Harry will join him in New York, leaving you and Harrison living alone in the house.

You knew it was going to be rare that all four of you would be staying at the house at the same time, but it was still sad to think about. All of you are family people, you love to be around the people you love. And with Tom’s job sending him all around the world, you didn’t get to see him a lot. 

“I’m gonna miss you guys” You pout and Tom immediately comes over and gives you a hug.

“I’m gonna miss you, too.” Soon you feel another pair of arms wrap around you, without looking you know it’s Harry. And then the other boys join as well and you’re one big pile of people hugging in the middle of the kitchen.

*

“Morning” You mumble as you shuffle into the kitchen where Harrison is currently making himself a tea. He looks at you over his shoulder with a grin and you wonder how someone can have so much energy in the morning.

“Good morning, sunshine” He has to bite back a laugh and you only manage to grumble something unintelligible. You’re not really a morning person. 

Yesterday was as draining as a day of moving can be and then Sam stayed over because he drank a little too much and he kept kicking you during the night. So you’re certain you look like a mess but you don’t care, it’s not like Harrison has never seen you like this before. 

“Tea?” Harrison offers you a mug and you take it from him gratefully.

“Thanks” You let out a sigh as soon as you take the first sip. Harrison makes a mean tea. It’s got the perfect temperature, too.

“Rough first night?” He asks and pours himself a cuppa as well.

You must pull a face because Harrison is looking at you amused again. “Sam kicks in his sleep when he drinks” Both of you move to the table in the dining room. You let yourself fall into one of the chairs. “I swear he woke me up with a kick every five minutes” 

“Sucks to be you” Harrison laughs as you glare at him. You’re just about to give him the finger when a well-rested Sam enters the room. You can’t even react as quickly as he’s got your mug in his hands and drinks your tea.

“Hey! That’s mine!” You attempt to grab the mug from him, but because he’s a little shit he pulls it out of your reach and you’re too tired to fight for it. You watch dumbfounded as he goes back upstairs, with your tea.“I hate you” You call after him and slump down in your chair. 

“Hmm, you love me” Sam calls back. Of course, he’s right, but right now you’re not his biggest fan. You’re about to get up to make yourself another cup but Harrison beats you to it. 

“I’ve got it” 

“You’re already my favourite housemate, you know that?” You call after him and you hear him chuckle. Not long after, another perfect cup of tea is placed in front of you. 

“You’re the best” 

“Hey, what about me?” Harry comes strolling into the living room, his hands placed on his chest in mock offence. 

“You never make me tea in the morning, so you’re not even part of the competition.” 

“I’m wounded, sis” 

“Get over it, bro” Harry sits down next to you and ruffles your already messy hair. You don’t even muster up the energy to complain. Why are your brothers such a pain? Why can’t they be as lovely as Harrison who makes you tea without you even asking for it? 

“You look like shit,” Harry says as he rests his chin on his hand and looks at you.

“Thanks” – you glare at him – “That’s because I didn’t get any sleep because Sam kept kicking me” 

“Brutal” Harry doesn’t sound one bit sympathetic. 

“He’s staying in your room the next time he’s drunk” 

Harrison just watches the two of you with amusement while he sips his tea. 

Sam was right when he said that Harrison might as well be part of your family. For almost ten years he’s been Tom’s best friend now and you couldn’t even really remember what it was like without Harrison in your lives. You’d been twelve the first time he came over and to say you had a little bit of a crush on him would be… accurate. He’d intrigued you. With his blue eyes, blond hair and that little smirk he still had today he’d been the cutest boy you’d ever seen. 

Of course, he’d never seen you like that. What fifteen-year-old boy was interested in his best friend’s little sister? And you eventually grew out of that crush. Your high school friends on the other hand didn’t. And maybe that was why you were no longer interested in him. 

It took you a while to realise that the main reasons they always wanted to hang out at your place were Harrison and Tom. But when you did you felt a little lost. Was the only reason you had friends your brother? Was that all you could offer them? Because as soon as you refused to host any more sleepovers at your place you were quickly disregarded from the group. 

Now, a few years later, you could see that you’d rather have no friends than those girls, but at the time it was hard. The good thing about having four brothers, though, was that you’d never be without friends. Your brothers were your support system. They cheered you up and dragged you along to whatever mischief they were up to. And when Tom’s career took off and your old ‘friends’ tried to reach out to you, you just rolled your eyes. 

You were happy that Tom had found such great friends in Harrison and Tuwaine. Friends who were there for him and not his popularity or fame. Tom was a great judge of character and that was one thing you’d always admired about him. While you were a little naive at times and trusted people blindly, he knew who he could count on. And now, all of you were a tight-knit group of people you wouldn’t give up for the world.

 That’s why you aren’t even the slightest bit worried about living in the house with Harrison for four months. You’re close friends. What is there to worry about other than household chores? Living with him should be plain sailing, right? 

A/N: thank you for reading!!! this part was a little introduction to the story, I promise there’s going to be more happening in part two! I’ve got so much planned for this and I hope you’re as excited for the next 11 parts as i am 😅❤️ 

want to be tagged? you can find the link to my taglist form in my bio

mutuals that might be interested (I’m just gonna tag you for this first part): @terrifictomholland​ @stuckonspidey​ @selfcarecap​

everything taglist: @spidermanlondon​ // @averyfosterthoughts​ // @duskholland​ // @tutuabby28​ // @missevrythingg​ // @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​ // @thenoddingbunny-blog​ // @emilykjh​ // @clara-licht​ // @hollandfanficlove​ // @calltothewild​ // @crybabyalexxx​ // @hazardosterfield​ // @calsthomas​ // @quaksonhehe​ // @geminiparkers​ // @thirzaholland // @tombrina​ // @outshineallthestars​ // @serendipitous-amor​ // @soincredible​ // @trustfundparker​ // @localfangirlx​ // @writertoo18​ // @r3ader // @viagracex​ // @skamlover200​ // @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ // @wehavetomakeourheartssitstill​ // @thearchersupremacy​ // @itstaskeen​ // @camimndess​ // @allyz​ // @technosoot​ // @fanficscuziranout​ // @parker-hollandx​ // @givebuckyhisplumsnow​ // @dangerouslovefanfic​ // @ertherealrose​ // @i-married-a-pineapple​ // @miraclesoflove​ // @bi-girlwrites-2000​ // @seasidetom​ // @katcontrreras​ // * @determined-overthinker​ * // @fallingforfics​ // @destinedbooklover // @parkerpeter24​

bbf taglist: @m-a-r-i-n-t​ // @mrs-hollandstan​ // @unicorn-princess-1999​ // @mimisparkle12​ // @bearsbeetsbarnes​ // @annathesillyfriend​ // @sydsquibbles​ // @vapingisntmything​ // @littlebookbengal​ // @quethekillerqueen​ // @love-makes-all-things-beautiful // @swiftmind​ // @pearly-pisces​ //

harrison osterfield taglist: @hjoficrecs​ // @lolychu​ // @hazardosterfield​ // @hollandbroz-n-haz​

series taglist: @softholand​ // @svturtles​ // @cloverrover​

[mammonsvulva]

Hi there! I just discovered your page and i loved the bachata headcannon!

On that same line, can you do a female latina headcannon? Like, more specifically, Colombian, you know, an MC that's like normally fluent in english but when mad she just burst on angry spanish screaming session with latin curses and a strong accent and also just getting really mad if deemed as Mexican by default? I'd love that! Thank youuuu (also feel free to ignored this if it's not of your fancy)

I hope you have a great day!

Of course! I really hope you like it! :)

(I tried to incorporate things some of my relatives say as Colombians please don’t hate me🥲)

The Brothers + Datables and a Latina MC with Colombian Habits

Lucifer❤️

Lucifer has always been amused by the boldness MC portrayed, that is until Mammon pissed her off

MC actually f*cking explodes, calling Mammon “culicagao” (like a bratty kid) and a bunch of profanities out of rage

Actually leaves Lucifer surprised, who could she hate so much that she’d put a curse on them?

Is actually kind of scared to speak up after she went silent, kinda just stares at her like “what the fuck do I do”

“I’ve told Mammon A THOUSAND TIMES. IM NOT F*CKING MEXICAN”

(Oooohh Mammons gonna get his ASS WHOOPED)

“MAAAAAAMMMMOOOOONNN????”

Mammon💛

Could learn a thing or two from MC, had some strong clap backs

Is counting his money when OUT OF NOWHERE MC just starts incanting a literal curse

Literally has his quaking in his boots dude, like he’s genuinely terrified

He can’t keep up with anything she’s saying and feels like his time to die has come

Doesn’t say A WORD when she calms down, jumps when she starts apologizing for reacting like that

“W-w-what happened? ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )”

“I LOST 10 GRAND IN BLACK JACK! ITS FUCKING RIGGED!”

Is genuinely more cautious for a while, kind of traumatized him

Mammon thought it’d be a great Idea to take her to meet one of his witches, MC already didn’t like her but listen to this

First thing the witch said was “Aren’t you that Mexican transfer student or whatever?”

(‘Oooh Ms. Girl you fucked up’)

Leviathan💙

Wishes he could have MCs confidence, ‘how does she respond like that 0•0’

He’s reading Manga while MC just lost on the same level for the 5th time

Accidentally shifts to his demon for he got so scared

Has to whip his tail up and grab the controller before she could slam it, genuinely terrified for his well being

Once she calms down she goes to give him a hug, to help with her frustration

*PANICS* “I-I can h-help you with that level, if y-you want..”

MC watches as he beats it with ease and heaves a sigh of relief, literally such a stupid game

Gets just as offended as MC when somebody said “I went to Mexico on vacation once, what was it like growing up there?”

Will let her handle it and he’ll be her Moral Support <3

Satan💚

Loved that MC was always ready, he was like that too being the Avatar of Wrath

Is genuinely amused when MC burst out swearing because she got a bad grade, he actually thought it was hilarious

Thinks of like a game to keep up with everything she’s shouting, makes her more upset

“What the fuck are you laughing at juemadre de la-“

“You’re Hot when you’re mad, Did you know that?”

Makes her go silent immediately, why is he like this, making people wanna act up on DIAVOLO

When they’re BOTH mad at something it’s like a f*cking BOMB RAID bro

They both just keep adding more, even when Satans speaking a Demon Dialect and MC is speaking Spanish LMAOO

When an arrogant soul decides to purposely mislabel MC as Mexican, the fool needs to count his seconds with MC and Satan both getting on his ass

Asmodeus💞

Has always liked the spunk MC had, it entertained him to watch her bicker with his brothers

Surprised, but not happy AT ALL with the fact that MC could blow up like that

Gets on MC for lashing out, “MC! THIS IS TERRIBLE FOR YOUR SKIN, DO YOU WANT WRINKLES?”

Gets MC to tell him what made her loose her cool like that

“That stupid b*tch from class posted saying “That Mexican transfer student isn’t pretty enough to be this annoying”

Almost explodes as bad as MC did

“MS. GIRL SHE SAID WHAT? Lemme hop on Devilgram and end her career real quick💖”

Devilgram post- Asmodeus 19:34: “Aw sweetie, Not everybody can be as gorgeous as MC and muah, but don’t go trying to drag her in the dirt with you. Filthy🥱”

No mercy on the haters💔

Beelzebub🧡

Like Asmo, found it entertaining to see MC bicker with his brothers every now and then

MC just couldn’t keep calm anymore when she messed up the recipe she was working on AGAIN

Beel becomes more concerned than scared, ‘Is she ok? :(‘

Gets up to hug MC, hoping it’ll help calm her down a bit

She explains that she kept ruining the dessert no matter how hard she tried

“MC, it’s ok to do it wrong, because it helps you learn how to do it right :)”

She’s tried again, except this time with Beel to help her :)

Gets upset when someone defaults MC as Mexican, knowing how much she hates it

He may be a teddy bear but man don’t f*ck with his Chef

Belphegor💜

Thought MC was amusing with the way she made sure everyone knew she wouldn’t take any BS

MC just happened to stub her toe while Belphie was sleeping, and now he’s awake, and heated

“What the f*ck happened?”

Is actually more concerned than upset, she wouldn’t lash out like that for no reason

When MC explains that a picture of her in the RAD Catalog still ended up being there even though she made it clear she was against it

“Oh, MC- you look good in every photo, I wouldn’t be upset about it”

Assures her it’s not a big deal and then invites her to come take a nap with him

Will mean mug the f*ck out of anyone who assumes MC is Mexican, because he finds extremely disrespectful (as it is)

Might commit homicide if they keep saying Mexican but I ain’t no snitch

+

Diavolo♥️

At first took MC as disrespectful, but learned it was only when she felt she was being disrespected (then by all means, go off)

Surprisingly, Diavolo speaks Spanish, but he still kind of struggles to keep up

He’s just laughing the whole time too, like MC isn’t furious

Later, MC calmly explains just some random student pissed her off again

“Who is this student you say? Do I need to have a chat with them as the Demon Lord of The Devildom? :)?”

Dia actually admires how passionate MC is about her home country, agrees that it’s disrespectful to mislabel someone

Because he can, Dia starts to learn about Colombian culture and throwing parties just for MC

Starts saying shit like “politas pa la rumba!” (I’ll buy beers for everyone¿) just to sound cool to MC

Barbatos💟

Barb doesn’t understand how someone could be so beautiful but so hostile sometimes, overall doesn’t really mind though

Is surprised that such things could conde from MC, kind of chuckles thinking about it

He figured he should try and step in to calm the situation

“Is there anything I can do to ease you, MC?”

It ended up being that Diavolo was completely ignoring her and brushing her aside when he never did that with Solomon

Asks if she’d like him to talk to Dia about it, since he may approach it better than she will

Barb will quietly correct anybody who believes her to be Mexican, just so MC won’t have to deal with their arrogance herself

Takes his free time and makes dishes from Colombia, or Colombian themed cookies or cupcakes to make MC happy :)

Simeon🤍

Is trying to teach MC better ways to respond to idiots, more Angelic ways

When MC blows up for the first time in front of him, the literal shock she sent him into omfg

*GASP* “MC?! WHY ARE YOU SAYING SUCH VILE THINGS?”

Like, HELLOOO? SHE DARES TO SAY SUCH THINGS IN AN ANGELS PRESENCE?

Helps to calm her down after showing distaste for her words

“You’re lips are to beautiful to speak such sinful things”

Will go on to give MC a long but kind lecture about why exploding like that is bad for her Aura and whatever

Will politely make it known that someone was wrong for assuming MC is Mexican, does get a bit irritated though

He now goes up to MC when she’s getting upset, to remind her to breathe and comfort her with a deep hug :)

“See? It’s ok MC~ just breathe in and out for me, ok? :)”

Solomon⚛️

Will piss MC off on purpose just to see her pop off, he LOVES it

Literally her #1 cheerleader when she blows up, adding on to what she’s upset about

“Period MC” “No way she said that! What a fugly b*tch” “Right, she’s just a hater”

Hypes her up all the time, even when she’s obviously in the wrong

Sol needs ALL the tea, pulls up like “who we talking shit about?”

Will get on someone’s ass just because, now think about when someone mislabels MC😳💥

Gives MC a sense of pride hearing him say “Cagué” when he messes up a potion, he obviously picked that up from her

Luke⛅️

Gets kinda (really) scared when MC becomes a little aggressive

Actually bursts out crying because he was scared MC was mas at him

MC traumatized this kid so bad, he ran to Simeon like he was getting chased be some demons

“M-m-mom is really m-mad and *sobs* I’m s-scared *sobs more*”

MC IMMEDIATELY feels super bad because she scared away his soul

Simeon, having talked to her about it already, mouthed “Apologize now.” In a very not polite manner, kinda scaring MC too🚫🧢

Has MC apologizing PROFUSELY, trying to explain it wasn’t Luke’s fault

Once he calms down, they go to bake cookies like usual, except this time he’s sniffing the whole time :( 💔

I really hope this fit what you asked for :( </3

[demwhore]

summer (l.ty)

pairing┃boxer! lee taeyong and college student! OC ft. Doyoung, Mark, Johnny and Taeil + mention of Bang Chan and Namjoon genre | fluff, slight angst | boxer! au warnings | slow-burn, language, mention of ass ( i know taeyong has none but alright), lots of banter, physical injuries, mention of blood, violence, mention of steroid usage, making out in the boxing gym, too much plot but aight, smut (for those uncomfortable, the smut is placed at the very end; the note indicates mature content, read at your own risk ) subtle sub!-dom! themes, unprotected sex, fingering, eating out, penetration, biting, marking, creampie, edging it’s not really that dirty but it’s just passionate lovemaking word count | 25k

synopsis | 

“If two people are meant to be together, they will eventually find their way back.” 

Or in which, you are stranded in your university due to summer classes and you had a little reunion with your ex that you last saw two years ago.

a/n | this is part of @neo-cult-ure‘s summer collab!  taglist | @cinanamon @jaesmintea @jungcity @seongghwaa @mjlkau @neoyoungho for helping me with proofreading.  tags | @ethaeriyeol @yuta-nakitamoto​ @suhweo @neocity-sarai @jaeminsmainbitch @the32ndbeat @bumblebeenct @cloudynakamoto @solecize @moonlss @ceruleanskies @tzuqui @jungjeffr3y @neo-shitty @o-schist​

muse | and this is based on the song summer by calvin harris, long flight by taeyong, call out my name, earned it by The Weeknd, pillowtalk by zayn, love me harder by ariana grande. there are literary quotes from The Notebook by nicholas sparks and The Great Gatsby by fitzgerald.

“The cows didn’t deserve this sight. You look like a moving potato sack.” 

That one familiar voice, laced with precise mirthful nuance immediately stops you from your attempted zumba dances. Your head automatically snaps towards the door where he is currently leaning at. Even without looking, you could see the tugging of his lips that belonged to your one and only grumpy roommate and unfortunately best friend, Doyoung. 

This is one of your routines, dancing carelessly in front of your open windows, to entertain the cows from the farm your dormitory is located at. They make such a great audience though, unlike the people from university. 

People who? You don’t know her. 

You lean over the table to shut down the speaker that blasts electronic music. 

The morbid greetings are never new to you anymore. In fact these greeting exchanges are normal, and an inside joke no one will understand but you and him. 

Doyoung looks like he recently woke up from his grave. With a sullen face and eye bags that are too dark, it stands out amongst his pallorness. Being a pol-sci student surely makes the stunning Kim Doyoung a disaster. 

He enters your room with coffee in hand and plops himself comfortably on the blue plush seats you two had managed to haul at the local thrift shop. This is Kim Doyoung with his disheveled morning look—his curly hair and baggy sweatpants but hail thee heavens, he still looks majestic and it’s unfair. He gulps a mouthful of his morning coffee. At this point you have made the conclusion that coffee is what kicks him in the morning, if not, daily. 

You gawk at the tall boy before you, bracing yourself for his never ending list of snarky remarks —about you, your ridiculous pajamas, the cows which you don’t understand either, college, his debates, how emotional the girls are in his department and it pisses him off, how capitalism sucks, do soulmate exists? And if yes, it’s bullshit and what not. Nevertheless, you do understand his points since both of you share a deep seated bond and a like for misanthropy. Despite his ear-splitting and sometimes provocative rants, it had never failed to boost you. Albeit you hate early morning scolds, Kim Doyoung and his banters are an exception. 

“Potato who? I am an exceptional dancer.” You grin while whipping your hair dramatically. 

On cue, Doyoung’s eyes roll heavenwards. What a dramatic king. “How is that even possible?”

You shrug. “They moo-ed at me longer than their usual moo-s. Look!” You point at the brown cow staring back at you while nibbling grass. 

Doyoung didn’t bother to peek at your window. Instead, he shakes his head in dismay while sipping again on his black coffee. “You need to seek help, you’re unbelievable.”

“Me and the cows just have a deep-seated relationship and they are far more supportive than your grumpy ass.” 

Doyoung didn’t answer you. He shifts again in his seat, his long legs folding in an uncomfortable angle. Doyoung winces as he settles his mug on the table just adjacent from the plush seat. He gives you a concerned look, “Anyways, enough with the cows. How is your major going? You look dead.” 

“So are you.”

“I’m stunning, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Bickering with him will be a waste of a time. 

It's 8:30 am and truth be told, you are not ready to go to your university especially when the impending torment awaits for your arrival. 

Your lips tug upward, an acrimonious smile painting your lips. If there’s something you want to talk about early in the morning, it would rather be about politics, rabbits, anything but your college department. The attempt in pulling an all-nighter yesterday night isn’t enough to lessen the never ending stack of paperwork your professors are demanding and talking about it would just fuel up your frustrations. “If the team won’t cooperate in the defense,” you sigh. “Summer.”

In an instant, Doyoung’s lips tugs into a shit-eating grin. Those smiles that hold such malice that shouts ‘you’re a worst case’. Being the sinister human being he is, he didn’t waste this opportunity to throw you his judgement. “For what I know college students should never be… negligent.” He drags out those words slowly like reciting to a child, making sure you do understand what the hell he is talking about and giving full emphasis on the last word that he said. 

You immediately retort back, defensive. “I am! I mean… I am not!”

“I am not saying you are… but your groupmates.”

“They are…”

His feline eyes are as dark as his hair while he studies you. He’s feigning fake enthusiasm while raising his brows up cockily. “Yeah?”

You inwardly let out a whine. “Yeah. Now. Shut up Kim Doyoung.”

He chuckles. “What? I’m not saying anything!”

You huff. “After all this crap, I will seriously go out for a vacation,” you pause. “And I won’t tag you in, bitch!” 

He rolls his eyes, “How despicable.”

“Seriously though, I don’t want to spend my time in university, it’ll kill the remaining sanity left in me.”

Overly confident, you want to smack the shit out of him. He shrugs. “I know. Good thing I’m an ace.”

You roll your eyes and throw your plushie towards his direction. But the devil incarnate has the deities on his side because the pillow didn’t budge nor hit him at all. 

“Excuse me, mister right. Sorry to pop your bubble but remember? Your professor is still frustrated at the bull crap you pulled.” Your lips immediately tugging upwards upon the memory of him blabbing out incoherently to you like a child, intoxicated with alcohol while flunking classes. All of it because he’s, according to him, an ace. 

“And what was that you were yelling at the corridors?” You try and recall the song he keeps on yelling in the top of his lungs while the people are shooting him dirty looks, “Young, dumb, young, young, dumb and bro-oh-ke…”

You wheeze while clutching your stomach. Good thing he got a nice voice, but still it was embarrassing. As if on cue, the stressed-out, disheveled Kim Doyoung wipes his face dramatically in humiliation. You’re both entertainers in your own ways, but he makes himself really stand out without him even trying. 

If Kim Doyoung’s life is a movie, you’d literally spend your dollars to watch him over and over again. 

“How’s your horse?” And you burst into fits of laughter. 

A distressed groan escapes Doyoung’s lips upon the memory. “Can you please not?” 

You shake your head no, still laughing upon the memory. He glares in your direction, his hawk-like eyes staring back at you with such vexation.

It’s a mistake for him to actually choose to drink rather than preparing for a major presentation that he messed up with big time. While drunk, he answered his professor’s inquiry with, ‘I don’t have a thing for voyeurism though, my horse is not down for it’. His professor is too infuriated at his answer and his laid back attitude, she gave him a big fat 60% mark as payback. What a damn ace, truly, ace of all clowns. 

“I just hoped the case study could help me. I didn’t know that the case presentation was worth 60% of my grade!”

“You should join a pageant sometime.”

“Fuck, no.”

“Well, you’re famous as well as your answer. Imagine the school paper desperate just to have your comment published?” You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. 

His suggestive answer spreads out in the university like wildfire. If you could remember the quote, “Attention Ladies! Doyoung is quite reserved as his ‘horse’ is quite shy”, no public canoodling!

Doyoung is so furious when he sees the whole article, that he wants to sue the journalism club for defamation. But they immediately bribe him with a percentage, because the profits were surprisingly high because he’s featured in. Kim Doyoung is quite popular unlike you. He is a Pol-Sci student, and that made him proactive about social issues that you sometimes wanted to shut him out. He never stops talking about capitalism. And not to mention his fanbase— he has the looks, brain even if he barely uses it, and part of a famous sorority house. High number of admirers are really expected. 

He makes a face. That’s what you get when you enter one of your classes intoxicated with gin and bullshit. Yolo, Kim Doyoung. 

“Stop laughing,” he scowls. 

Doyoung clears his throat and diverts the subject, “Have you tallied the responses?”

“Oh, shit.” You shift yourself in your bed. A ballpen strikes your ass and a ruler snaps in half the moment you tried to move again in your spot. 

You wince. “I told Regina about it, and guess what?” 

“Spill.”

“She fucking forgot about the methodology. I’m going insane!” 

You stand up and grab the print-outs of your unfinished research paper. Doyoung brings the cup to his lips while watching you scurry back and forth in your room. You leave your room, only to return once again to gape at your best friend. The lack of sleep is taking a toll on you early in the morning, and all you want to do is to wrap yourself in your fuzzy blankets and binge watching Netflix. After all, it’s exciting to watch with the academic deadlines chasing after every episode you attempt to watch. 

Your best friend’s lips instantly curl upward and you register that the words he’ll be spatting out will slap the shit out of you “You still have to interpret the results, though.”

“Bloody hell.” You groan loudly. 

He grins smugly. “I really hope you won’t bawl your eyes out, but you still have a big nut to crack open.”

You were about to retort back but something had hit you. Your face painting an aghast expression, you cussed again, “Oh shit, the math homework?”

“Bingo.” His smirk widens at your stressed out face. “And the deadline is today.”

Why do you still have maths in your course? It’s ridiculous. 

Despite him being annoying at all times, you are still happy that Doyoung is at your side. He is a blessing in disguise. He somewhat remembers all the things you have mentioned to him like homeworks and other things and makes fun of you because you‘re such a fucking goner. Having the habit of doing something at the drop of a hat then to procrastinate and cram it all out like a madwoman. 

You manage to get through this bad habit of yours when your ex helped you back in the day. But now that he’s gone, all your mannerisms are flooding in like crazy. 

You heave a long sigh of frustration. “Why, why, the hell did I choose to watch Riverdale instead of doing my maths?”

You stare at his dark orbs dancing with pure amusement. 

He shrugs at your outbursts. “I have been telling you. You’re too distracted.”

You, per contra, immediately run to your bed and grab the nearest paper lying on the end with a  bold ‘biochemistry’ printed on the topmost part of the paper. You toss the paper to Doyoung’s direction and continued on doing the searching operation of your long-lost math homework. 

Doyoung clicks his tongue, finding the scowl on your face entertaining. “I just saw that paper! Now I can’t see it!” 

You stomp your feet in annoyance.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. He knows exactly where this will go. He counts.

Three. Two. One.

You wail. “Kim Doyoung! I cannot find it!”

“You should learn to search using your fucking eyes! Jesus Christ, you’re unbelievable,” he sighs, running his lithe hands through his raven locks. From the sound of his sigh, you know he’s tired of dealing with your constant bullshit.

“You have your eyes for a reason. For searching! Don’t use your mouth, Y/N,” he paused. Your homework is on the table.” Then he pointed at the coffee table.

“You’re lucky I’m being nice here. I’d rather hide that paper from you and watch you fail because you just lost a fucking piece of paper.”

You grimace, “You’re one hell of --”

You see how Doyoung’s face morphed in a whole 180 turn before the blink of your eye. From being calm to sinister. He mumbles, his tone so deep and malign. But you can hear him, “If you continue on. I will never, ever, help you with your essays. Carry on your GPA.”

What a hypocritical bitch. 

Doyoung exactly knows how and where to push your buttons. 

A whirlpool of emotions washes over you, and panic is the main cherry on top. It’s been an unspoken rule among both of you, that if ever who’s at rock bottom, the other half shall lift the rock no matter how heavy it is. And unfortunately, you're the rock and Doyoung has been helping you all through this time to somehow pass and manage your assignments. He’s been complaining how he is suffering from back pain due to carrying you all over the place. 

You huff, clenching your fist to control the forming irritation in your gut, “For the sake of my peace, I wanna punch you. But yes, thank you, bitch.”

He mimics you, “Welcome bitch.”

Approaching his seat, you plop yourself comfortably on the floor. “Now how do I do this?”

Doyoung tilts his head to the side to cast a greater view of your paper and his face immediately scrunches. “Mean and deviation? I have taught you how to get them, right?”

You groan out. “I forgot.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Of course you forgot about it,” he curls his lips to a frown. “But remembering handsome boys, you ain’t slick… wait… what’s my name again?”

“Gross.”

He snatches the paper from your hold with a scowl and begins scribbling the answers. He mumbles loud enough for you to hear, “You weren’t like this when he was here. You’re too distracted.”

You frown upon the mention of your ex. Doyoung is right, you suck up big time when your ex left you to pursue his career. 

Doyoung hands the paper back to you. Glancing at your homework, he had answered the first two numbers and the rest were blank. Your mouth presses into a thin line while attempting to answer the rest, following the solutions and steps of Doyoung from above. 

He lifts the mug to his lips and gulps the remaining coffee. A vibration from his pocket catches his attention. Doyoung fishes for his mobile phone and his eyes almost bulge out upon the text he just received. The screen illuminates his slender face. 

[from TY Track] [9:15] I’m coming home from Busan. See you at your university. How’s Alpha chi Omega? I missed them as well. 

Glancing from your peripheral vision; you know he must’ve received some dirty text again with the way his eyes bulge out of his sockets and a faint blush of pink that has been kissing his cheeks. You were not sure from whom though but it could be from the lists of girls in your mind that you’ve once texted out to ‘fuck off’ as per Kim Doyoung. 

It happens daily and you are somewhat forced to answer them back because he’s been begging you to get rid of them. His ways of swatting the girls are really insurmountable. There is this time you thought he’s sending in dick pic (you almost threw a victory dance) but in reality he was just sending a picture of his beautiful middle finger followed by blocking or sometimes a ‘get lost, I don’t like you’.

You grin at the thought of Doyoung dirty texting but it’s borderline impossible. The amount of suitors is surprisingly high for a grumpy Kim Doyoung but he dismisses them all. You don’t know why he doesn’t open up opportunities for commitment, but it isn’t your business to mess with. After all, you couldn't blame them, his whole frat boy demeanor is really a lovely sight to look at. 

His mouth opens then closes followed by his eyes widening like he couldn’t believe the sight at his screen. You let out an airy chuckle while computing for the mean. “You got yourself a fubu? Shall we call in Alpha chi Omega and celebrate?”

His brows automatically furrow while hiding his phone away from your sight, in defense. Your conclusions forming like endless swirls in your mind at the sight of him being so, aloof. You shoot out a grin. 

“What the fuck? No!”

Your brows automatically shoot upward and you raise your hands still grinning widely. “Woah, chill, lover boy.”

Never in Doyoung’s life he plays cupid, because he thinks love is ridiculous. But he might as well play one for the sake of two broken hearts still yearning for each other. Doyoung knows he’s still not over you and you are still thinking about him even if you don’t admit. 

[doie] [9:26] See you hyung. I will show you around.

Two months and two weeks prior to Taeyong’s homecoming. 

Ragged breaths resonate around the boxing circle. The crowd is expectant, holding in their breath while watching the neck to neck fight. 

Chan is lying on the floor, his chest rising heavily with every breath he takes. His coach is yelling profanities from the farthest corner, urging him to get his ass up and fight. He hears the muffled rambunctious screaming of the crowd and the loud EDM music blaring inside the gymnasium followed by the irritating ringing in his ears. 

With Taeyong’s strike on his right ear, his balance fucks up and he can’t bring himself on his feet. Chan’s eyesight is getting worse, seeing occasional stars here and there. If it wasn’t for the gym’s blinding spotlight and camera flashes, he would really think that he got blind. Despite the large ring they are currently in, the atmosphere feels heavy, thick, and choking. The place stinks of cigarettes, sweat and blood. The floors were slightly wet with their perspiration. There’s overall tension, but violence is above it all. 

Taeyong wipes the blood that spluttered from his mouth from Chan’s jab. He runs towards the corner where his team is at. Taeil immediately scrambles to his feet to get inside the ring to wipe off his sweat. Taeyong feels extreme exhaustion while staring back at Taeil under hooded eyes. He is running a tongue over his mouthpiece and rests his head on the ring’s metal post. 

The referee enters the ring with a mic in hand then approaches the younger boxer. The referee pounds his fist onto the white mat, yelling numbers, “One!”

A pause. Then there is another pound. This time with much more force than the previous pound. “Two!”

Chan’s eyes flicker open at the countdown. His bruised eyes widening at the sound of his coach’s constant fire of profanities. Get up Bang Chan! Get the hell up! And so he did. Before the referee could shout the last number, three, Chan slightly jerks his shoulder, lifting his gloved hands then he tilts his torso to his right, raising up to his toes completely. Chan wobbles slightly while setting his posture up in full defense mode. 

The referee makes a dash, excluding himself from the ring. Taeyong walks towards the center, his stance is set with his gloved hand raised up for defense. Chan’s appearance is rough. With blood covering most of his torso, there are occasional hues of yellow, purple and blue lingering on the younger boxer’s cheeks and eyes, one of his eyebrows split open blood pooling down mixing with his sweat, his plump lips is swollen and busted as if he had been stung by a bee. 

Taeyong approaches the opponent carefully. Defense still high and not breaking eye contact. He knows how jumbled Chan is. Continuing on pushing himself further will just cause him harm— both mentally and physically. Due to Chan’s swollen right eye he can’t see Taeyong clearly. Throwing out jabs clumsily. 

After contemplating for a few, Chan throws a counterpunch but Taeyong is quick enough to throw a combination that interrupts the younger mid-way. Chan musters his remaining strength to launch out a strike but Taeyong immediately dodges and springs forward to throw a blow on his jaw. 

Chan can see spirals swimming in his vision that made him pause. With a disarranged mind, all he could do was to clinch on his opponent’s shoulder, breathing hard, bodies colliding with each other. The referee immediately steps in, breaking them apart. The crowd roars with both enthusiasm and dismay. 

Taeyong made the final move, shooting his last blow on Chan’s stomach that made the young boxer fall with a loud thud. The crowd erupts with extreme exhilaration. 

The emcee’s voice booms through the gymnasium’s speakers. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen after twelve rounds of action we go to the scorecards. We have a unanimous decision in favor of the winner none other than boxing’s pride of Seoul, Lee Taeyong! The one and only, current WBA welterweight champion of the world! Lee ‘Kingpin’ Taeyong!”

Taeyong approaches Chan’s figure at the other side of the ring and gives him his warmest regards. Taeyong watches the intimate moment shared between the Aussie and his significant other. As sweet folks say, loving kisses can wipe out exhaustion. Touché. 

Taeyong is sure that the younger boxer has potential and could make his boxing career stretch far with an obtained score of 116. Taeyong is in Chan’s situation once, losing then going home with a fucked up face. Everything is consuming— especially in boxing. Fatigue, face, dignity— but it is all about the commitment. It took Taeyong several eyebrow cuts just to achieve his current position. Before he was well-known as the Kingpin, he was once a loser. With high pressure, diamonds are formed. 

Victory is so sweet. Yet the Kingpin still feels empty. He misses those moments when he was still a nobody; someone will run inside the gym just to pepper him kisses and him dodging cause he’s all sweaty. Or the steamy make out sessions usually in his Mustang after every class. The late night sex in his room. He wants to turn back time, he missed experiencing it all, everything. It hurts for him to admit but he missed someone that is dear to him. Someone that is his life. Those memories cease the moment he decided to choose this career, boxing. He thought, was it worth it? Is selecting boxing really did give him the utmost happiness? Was it worth exchanging you for this career? After his several attempts of questioning himself, Taeyong couldn’t still answer whether all of this makes him happy or it’s just complete bullshit. 

His team jumps in the ring full of excitement. Taeil is showing him an ear to ear grin while wiping off his face. Taeyong winces as Taeil is too overwhelmed, vigorously wiping over his cuts. “Hyung, I’m not a car, stop wiping my face like a wiper.”

Taeil giggles. “Oh. Sorry.”

His manager approaches him, sliding the heavyweight gold belt over his shoulder. The manager leans over to whisper a strong ‘congratulations’. Taeyong nods back, unable to contain his glee. He grins at the crowd and pumps his fist in the air. The crowd are screaming for his name and his victory.

All hail, Kingpin. 

“Taeyong.”

Taeyong’s eyes flicker shut. It’s only been five minutes since Taeyong submerged in the cylinder shaped chamber full of ice, but for him it feels like forever. The water stings and the cold is there, but it eats away the soreness nevertheless. Taeyong grits his teeth, fucking five minutes feels like eternity. He tries to divert his attention to anything but the stopwatch clipped on the cylinder’s edge.  

A voice calls him again. Taeil. “Taeyong.”

The boxer breathes. “Yes. Hold on.” 

The timer beeps. Taeil approaches the cylinder bath to snatch the beeping device.

 Taeyong rises to his full height with the water swaying after him and the ice floating around the bath. Taeyong grips the edge and jumps out. 

Taeil approaches him with a towel in hand. The boxer grabs the fluffy fabric and wraps it around his bare torso still shivering from the aftermath of his post-match routine. The soreness from the fight subdues. Taeyong holds the fabric to his head to towel dry his silver locks. 

Taeil begins, “There’s something the manager will tell you.”

Taeyong shoots out a look towards him, his face immediately contorting into confusion.  “About what?”

Taeil shrugs. He plops down to the bench and drops the athletic bag. The steel bench creaks as he rummages through the bag and throws a pair of boxers, sweatpants and a black tank top towards Taeyong. 

The boxer grunts, snatching the clothes mid-air with his right hand. “Geez. You could’ve handed it to me, hyung.”

Taeil faces him and settles the bag. A tired sigh escapes his lips. “I’m not in favor of what he’s gonna say to you.”

Taeyong’s brow furrows. “Why? Wait, what is it about?”

Taeil leans back on the wall and closes his eyes for a moment. “You’re familiar with the gung-ho McGregor aren’t you?”

Taeyong’s eyes narrow as he tries to recall the familiar name. Damn, Chan’s smack must’ve shaken his brain. “The suspended boxer?”

Taeil nods and crosses his arms. “He’s actually back and wants to hold a match with you.” 

Taeyong fidgets on his spot awkwardly. Water droplets drip down his chest. It’s fucking cold. For heaven’s sake he’s just in his black boxers. 

“Can I change first?”

Taeil shakes his head and holds a finger to shut him out. “This is an important matter, kid.”

Taeyong scowls. “It’s fucking cold!”

He stops bickering back upon the sight of Taeil’s glare. Taeyong sighs, “We rejected them, right?”

“Yes. But backstage, Alexis’s manager opened up the matter to the manager again.”

Taeyong’s brows knot. “I just got into a fight. Can you talk it out with the manager?”

Taeil grimaces. “You know how my words don’t have an effect on him.” 

Taeil continues on, “Besides, you are never the alibi type. If there’s a fight, you fight. That is how they know you. So it won’t work, unless you got pregnant? But that’s borderline fucking impossible.”

Taeyong didn’t argue back since Taeil has a point. Alibis are not really favorable especially in the world of boxing, unless you’re at death's door. 

Taeil continues. “McGregor’s team promised a percentage if you let him win.”

“What the fuck?” Absolutely never. 

A knock disrupts the two. Taeil straightens himself while Taeyong readjusts the towel resting on his hair. 

Manager Oh enters the room. The two male cannot read the gloomy look on the manager’s face as the atmosphere is quite tense. 

The manager gulps and begins to speak. “I reckon Taeil has told you about the matter,” the manager pauses. “We’ll accept the deal. The fight will be pushed through.”

Taeyong’s ears piques as he begins to feel annoyed. “Without consulting me? If it wasn’t for Taeil hyung, I wouldn’t know.”

Manager Oh breaths. “They promised to sponsor everything for your UBT.” He halts again, trying to select the right words to cajole the boxer. “That’s your goal, right?”

The Universal Boxing Tournament is something elite, big, and wild. It isn’t just Taeyong’s goal but every boxer. The payments in the matches are double the fee he usually receives. Although the chance of fighting in the big event is at Taeyong’s palm, it left him in a state of deep conflict. He’s done being the sparring partner— or a punching bag of someone else. He’d establish himself and the idea of stooping down just for the benefit of others greatly dismays him. 

Taeyong strokes his nape. “It is one of my goals— dream, even. But I’m not sure, manager. I’m done being a punching bag.”

Manager Oh rubs his eyes. “I know…it’s just that McGregor is coming back and having a match with you could guarantee popularity for him.”

Taeil shakes his head in dismay but he never utters a word. 

The boxer is still unconvinced. 

The manager sighs. “He’s cleared of steroid usage.”

Taeyong squints. “What if he does it again pre-match? Then that cancels the match, what about the UBT spot they’ve promised?”

“You don’t have to worry about that… we have a written contract.”

Taeil shakes his head in disappointment. This rash decision of the team is what they'll be regretting later especially when an informal agreement is raised up. It won’t guarantee a spot to a big fight that easily. It’s like chasing dust. 

Taeyong inquires further. “When is this?”

“Next month. We'll grind to prepare you.” 

Taeyong knows how sicko McGregor can be in the ring. He has seen some clips of his matches. But if it means being in UBT, he’ll go.  “Alright.”

The manager stands up, brushing his pants. “We’ll move locations. I have a gym near the University you graduated from.”

The kingpin will return to the place where he started from rock bottom. It suddenly fills him with nostalgia. His two managers left the room for him to do his thing. Taeyong quickly grabs his phone and texted Doyoung, notifying him of his upcoming arrival. 

[Compose Message to: doie] [9:15] I’m coming home from Busan. See you at your university. How’s Alpha chi Omega? I missed them as well. 

His phone screen illuminates his striking face as he waits for a reply. Taeyong settles his phone down on the counter to ruffle his hair but Doyoung already responded. His phone vibrates. 

[doie] [9:26] See you hyung. I will show you around. The boys (and someone xD) will surely be glad to see you. Aja!

Taeyong grins. He’s excited to go home as well. A thought lingers on his mind, who’s the ‘someone’ Doyoung is referring to?

The sun is ebbing its way to daylight. It is the day of your defense or as Doyoung calls it doomsday or the Purge. Doyoung left you instructions on how to answer the panel smoothly without having the impression that you’re clueless.

He never spoon feeds you rather letting you do everything on your own. For this defense, he told you to shut up and not blab anything unless asked. And he adds, ‘answer straight to the point and don’t fucking sugarcoat’. Professors grill students until you could no longer retaliate, they are spawns of satan and you are so sure of that. 

This defense is the most stressful thing you encounter in your whole college life. An abomination, breaking people apart. Recitations are an exception though as you could always adlib like the stunt Doyoung pulled in his major classes.

The moment you set foot on the university grounds, you hear the cacophony of deafening alarm bells, signalling the students of the start of the first period. You sigh. Despite having to practice the day before (and practically being scolded and grilled by Doyoung), you still can’t calm your nerves. Your face immediately scrunches at the thought of summer classes. 

The sun is shining through the large oval in your university. Beads of sweat glistening on your forehead. Swarm of boisterous students walked side by side. talking about the same exact thing that has been swimming in your mind lately-- summer. Alas, the whole semester of dread is coming to an end and you cannot longer wait to wear the pink leotard Doyoung jokingly bought you for your birthday. You head straight north passing by the department of physical education. You see the soccer players, in their mighty, flashy maroon uniforms, running over the field. You immediately recognize the familiar figure of Johnny and the way the curvature of his ass sticks out of his shorts. Not that you really enjoy ogling at his ass though but it ain’t just another ass. It's Johnny Seo’s ass, popular, might as well stare at the divine sight before he charges everyone for it. You know of the big guy since you’re living in a small world, he’s friends with your best friend and a good pal of your ex boyfriend. Everything around you will always connect with either Doyoung or your ex.

Johnny has a reputation like Doyoung though. But unlike your best friend being known as a snob, Johnny is known for his massive dick and palpable cockiness in bed. He senses your stare and cranes his neck around to face you. His teammates behind him huddle together to ogle at the female their captain is looking at. He smiles at your direction then waves at you enthusiastically from the field. Lips curl into a smile while giving him a wave. You hear rambunctious woos and boyish whistles from behind when you continue on walking towards your building. Boys. 

The familiar mint green building is now in sight. You hug the folders close to your chest like it’s your armor while taking a sharp turn. It leads you down to the right wing but as soon as you are about to enter, a large signage of  ‘use the main door’ blocks your way. Your annoyance reaches its peak level while shooting daggers at the locked door. You contemplate, if you were to make a dash for the main door that is a meter away from here, you’ll be late for the first period. And professors always makes the tardy students sing in front and never in your fucking life will do that. 

A shout startles you in your place. “Son of a bitch!”

“What the hell are you doing there? Go to your room, dumbass.” Talking about the smart shit that just arrives with his sharp voice lacing with its usual deep suave and timbre that pierces your eardrums early in the morning. His building is just right beside yours. So whether you like it or not, Doyoung will be in sight to annoy the shit out of you like he usually does.

You turn to him. Going to the canteen to eat is tempting but the thought of disappointing Kim Doyoung and his efforts going to waste bites you off. “I’m nervous.”

The female students are eyeing both of you— most are stinky glares from his fangirls. You take a sharp breath and hoist up the strap of your bag properly. 

“Just remember what I’ve told you. And don’t abash yourself.” He ruffles your locks and you immediately swat his arm away. The squeals of the girls from behind obliterates both of your gossamer thin patience and remaining one brain cell. Needless to say, you walk up the pathway towards the main door of your building.

The thick choking atmosphere welcomes you. The happy color of mint green from its interior doesn’t conceal the melancholy of the people inside. You hear an upcoming call of your name, but you couldn’t apprehend it clearly because of the continuous murmurs in the hallway. “Y/N!”

You let out a groan of abhorrence as you whip your body around upon the call. But there isn’t a familiar face to chit chat with so you proceed forward but the wind knocked out of your lungs when you were suddenly yanked from behind. 

You are about to throw profanities when Dia’s face comes to view greeting you sweetly, “Hi, Y/N!” 

You attempt to smile but it looks like you’re suffering with constipation with all your teeth gritted together, “Hey!”

Dia begins. “I can’t wait for the sem to end!” She beams enthusiastically while clinging onto your arms. You struggle to climb the stairs with her hips hitting you sideways. 

“Me too.” You exhale while gathering your thoughts. Your minds a mess with the conclusion, summer outfit and the swarm of murmurs of the students in the stairwell. “I plan on getting a tan though or skinny dripping, I don’t know.”

“Oh my! Yes!” she laughs while tugging her lips out almost lost in thought. “Alpha chi Omega is actually planning on a homecoming party.” She smiles cheekily that is way familiar for you. You immediately grin at her being such a saccharine babe.

You raise your brows. “Who’s coming home?”

She shrugs. “I dunno.”

You frown while lost in thought . “Then how did you know about it?”

Dia waggles her eyebrows, a mischievous glint lighting in her eyes. “Of course. I keep tabs on the packing king, Johnny Seo.”

You grimace. “Huh? Packing? Where is Johnny going? I thought it’s a homecoming?”

Dia rolls her eyes heavenwards. You are being so impossible. “Packing as in walking around with a huge dick. My god, are you from the 90s?” 

“I’m not. I just don’t go around ogling at... what you call him? Packing Prince.” You make a puking face. 

Dia laughs while you mumble under your breath, “You are unbelievable.”

She clicks her tongue and leans in while shushing the words near your year, “I’m not though… hey you wanna know what’s unbelievable?”

It piques your attention, “What?”

“Johnny has the bomb-est ass ever. Like a hundred over ten, would recommend.”

You retreat back and scowl. She laughs at your impending disappointment. But she’s right though, in fact you saw a sight of Johnny’s ass early in the morning. Bomb it is. You shake your head, but a smile is tugging your lips upright, “Whatever you say so.”

Dia is still laughing, spreading positivity in the already sullen hallway in the ground floor. It didn’t last long as you both part ways upon the sight of room 402. You huff, trying to recollect your breath. Stairways will be the cause of your death. Your classmates are either feigning optimism or just dead tired. A voice booms out, alerting the class. You glance and see the person behind the said misery. 

“Groups one, kindly present in front. Get ready groups three and five. Say hi to the panel of judges.” 

“What in the fucking world?”

“You should have seen it coming.”

“The biggest bugbear of my life is spending summer in university instead of the beach!”

Doyoung gives you a nonchalant look. He immediately pays a visit to your building upon hearing your never-ending cusses at the call a while ago. He stands by the door of your room while his arms are crossed. 

He begins, “At least you’re alive, though.”  

Doyoung’s lips curling into a mischievous smirk. He cannot hide the fact that he’s impressed that you didn’t undergo a breakdown unlike your classmates and your control towards unyielding resilience. 

“I’m not close to being alive. I am deteriorating!” You groan making sure to imbue your tone to complete sarcasm. You thought that the research defense is the endpoint of the semester, but it wasn’t since the professors have something bigger to offer-- more diabolical. The dean of your college disseminates the mandatory summer classes on all year levels to avoid the crashing of major subjects with organization stuff and to somehow lessen the unit overload. The idea is beneficial albeit disheartening especially for those students who already had plans for the summer like you. What a sweet summer in the university. You shoot him out a look, “How are you alive? Despite all of this?”

“Heavy workload and org stuff is the thing that haunts every student. My professor has consulted me about this matter beforehand,” he grabs his phone and glances at it. His chinky eyes widen and he clears his throat. “We’ll be pushing the brave run next sem.” 

“Is that the annual event of your sorority that you’ll be running around in the campus, naked?”

Doyoung hisses. “Shut up. It should be kept a secret,” he shrugs. “But, yes.”

Another fact why his sorority is famous among the female students of the university. The brave run is an annual event held by his sorority, which symbolizes "a selfless offering of one's self to the people of the country.’ Running around naked with a mask to conceal their identities. And it’s going to be Doyoung’s first run. He fidgets in his spot while looking at you then at his phone. You cast him a doubtful look, “Do you need some privacy or whatever?”

He looks straight from your shoulder. “No, no. Stay put.”

“I wanna sit. I was standing for hours in front a while ago.”

Doyoung presses his lips in a thin line. He lamely mutters. “I will show you something.” He keeps on fidgeting in his place while glancing sideways. It deeply concerns you because he’ll look at his phone then will grin afterwards. Doyoung never grins. What in the world?

He certainly knows something that you’re completely oblivious about. His phone buzzes again. 

[from TY Track] [1:15] I thought your building is white one? How come you’re in a green one? You have a girlfriend from the nursing department don’t you? Ayeeeeeeeee. [1:19] im at the third floor lobby,, where are you?? I’m starving!!

Doyoung is on the fourth floor. Currently playing cupid. 

He gives you a look with a shit-eating grin lingering on his slender face. Not that he looks unpleasant to the eyes since he’s far away from it but rather handsome. But it greatly aggravates you because since that one message he received this morning, he just won’t knock it off with the annoying grin of his. You really need to know who the hell is responsible for his change of demeanor. 

Doyoung is the most misanthropic person you know and he always frowns. Unless he’s with his male friends or with you. Let he’ll freeze first then you’ll see him smile to his ears. He holds a finger near your face, “Wait here.”

You swat his wrist away but before you could knock him off, he’s already marching down the hall. 

“Kim Doyoung! Wait!”

You let out an exasperated sigh while playing with your lace to kill out boredom. Dia whistles to capture your attention. You return back inside your room to fix your things and to entertain the sulky Dia. She pouts, “I’m seriously starving! Let’s go to def!”

Def is the university’s cafeteria where both you and the guy who made your heart pound, met. 

“Okay hold on. Let me sign the attendance sheet for a while.” You approach the class secretary seated in front. Your back is against the door and a familiar figure looms near the door frame—looking lost. 

You’re playing in a full deck. Unaware of the guy who’s once your life, standing behind you. 

Taeyong and his team leaves Busan early at four in the morning with the yellow and pink hue of the sky slowly creeping along its way eating out the velvety dark skies. Taeyong drags his feet heavily against the grey pavement with his athletic bag hoisted on his shoulders. The early morning wind gives a chill blow that prickles the skin of the boxer. 

Taeil is walking behind him with his daily black coffee in hand and face sullen due to drowsiness. The team is moving at a fast pace and occasional long sighs are heard. Taeyong gawks at the team moving dumbbells, mats, gloves and belts in their black van. 

“Does your sorority know you’re coming home?”

Taeyong stares at his manager. His lips tugging upwards. “Yes. I’ve texted one of my friends and suddenly they’re throwing a homecoming party for me.” Taeyong’s chest vibrates with laughter. 

Taeil’s lips tugs upward in mischief as he knocks the hood of the van breaking the deafening silence of the early morning. The team immediately scramble inside the van like ants fighting off with seats, dirty banters and shades being thrown against each other. 

“I’ll sit here!” “It’s cold in that spot, I didn’t take a bath!” Another spits. “The handsomest is gonna seat beside the Kingpin.” Another voice holler. “Oi. Oi. No!”

The manager let out a tired sigh while adjusting the shoulder bag on his right shoulder. He reaches for his back pocket and wipes the droplets of sweats on his temple. “Let’s go, before these guys kill themselves.” 

He calls out with a stern tone rolling out of his tongue it immediately calms the chaotic boys, sheepishly fixing themselves while uttering incoherent apologies. They begin filling up with the manager taking the empty spot beside the driver’s seat. The rest scatter themselves on the spots they deem as comfortable. 

Taeil shoots Taeyong a knowing look and juts his head towards the empty seat beside him near the driver’s seat. Taeil reclines his back on the leathered seats and heaves a long tired sigh. “It’s good to be back. I wish they were preparing roses for your comeback. It felt like Disney, like for shits really.”

Taeyong grins. “Doyoung and Johnny told me about it. Alpha is scrambling like ants.”

Taeil’s voice lowers for a second. His thoughts are swimming in an endless swirl of abyss. “Fighting with McGregor could cause you collateral damage.”

The boxer rests his hand on his nape and closes his eyes for a moment. He knows. He whispers, “I know. May the odds play with my side.”

“This is not about the odds now, he could destroy you, I’m serious!” Taeil scoffs while scanning the view of the early and still asleep city of Busan. “Namjoon fought with him once, and the boy went home with broken ribs and hand fractures,” he trails. “It’s still early to back out. I’m really worried.”

“I am already destroyed, hyung. Ever since I chose this over engineering and leaving like I could really live through all of this…”

“Hyung, if I back out… all of these would just be a whole damned joke.”

“Please…don’t take McGregor easily.”

Taeyong attempts to dismiss the growing anxiety in his chest. One step at a time. One punch at a time, one round at a time. He sets a self mantra. “I won’t.”

The heavy traffic greets them the moment they make their way to the city arriving exactly at twelve.  Upon arrival, the team immediately unloads their baggage on the gym’s connected apartment while the manager nurses several calls about the match with the upcoming weigh in, face off, and budgets. 

Taeyong glances at the gym’s interior. It's a rundown one with a large ring in the center, barbell and dumbbells on the floor and a large mirror from across where he is standing. The lights flicker above him, casting a warm glow of yellow on his face. Taeil squeezes his shoulder, surprised at how he’s so rigid. Taeil begins, “Johnny gave me a call and he said that you should get your flat ass in the university.”

Taeyong throws his head back, mortified. “What? Okay, fat ass.”

Taeil rolls his eyes. “My ass is bomb.”

Taeyong raises his brows. “Squatting?”

“Yeah. Every night, wanna see?”

“I have my own ass.”

“Yeah…a flat one, unfortunately.”

Taeyong grimaces. “My ass is ‘bomb’ too.”

“Keep on dreaming flat ass.”

“Don’t be rude!”

The familiar name of the university greets Taeyong the moment he arrives. Doyoung notifies him of his whereabouts; in the medical department. Taeyong furrows his brows, just when did Doyoung shift his course? He said he’d die being a polsci student. 

Taeyong carries himself towards the familiar sidewalk of this university where he graduated highschool and was supposed to study engineering at. 

However his fate makes a whole turn when he’s casted by an agent when he’s buying bread from the downtown pancake house. And it all just happens just like that, him leaving all of a sudden, ending everything at his loved one’s disposal. 

His boxer facade falters as soon as he steps foot on the familiar grounds. With him here, he isn’t the Kingpin rather just the ordinary Lee Taeyong. He moves agilely, a thing he learned in boxing. His skin shimmers under the hot glimmering sun with his perspiration glistening against his forearms. Taeyong’s doe eyes scans the tall college buildings, looking precisely for a ‘tall building that is colored green with a bunch of people wearing white uniforms’ as per Kim Doyoung. 

A thought erupts in him, it’s been years since his last visit here. Everything before his eyes is entirely unknown for him. He spends a good minute searching for the building while running a hand over his silver locks that are haphazardly tousled in different directions. 

He ignores the flirtatious call of the students. The girls let out exhilarating squeals when he asks about the building and points behind him. Just as he’s about to go, someone yanks his arm dragging him away towards the opposite direction that planted a frown upon his face. He tries to dismiss them as kindly as he could when he sees that there is no way that they’ll be letting him go especially when he looks like a hot mess. 

There’s actually no use in flirting anymore as he’s still emotionally invested for one girl that is you. 

His eyes trail over the unfamiliar building and contemplate for a good minute before entering. The aura of the place elicits the same vibe in the boxing gym of his manager, bright by nature but something elicits off-ness more on sombre. 

His long legs easily climb the series of stairs until he reaches level three and glances around the place. Searching for the familiar figure of Kim Doyoung but he finds nothing even a silhouette of the boy. He fishes out for his phone to send him a text, the mobile vibrating after his taps. 

[from doie] [1:17] we’ll eat later!!!1 i need to show you someone oops something11!! :D [1:18] i'm coming!!! hold on!! Waaait

Taeyong hears rapid footsteps then a high pitch call of his name. A sudden tackle takes him by surprise. “I missed you, hyung!” 

Doyoung holds him at shoulder, his eyes examining his whole body. “You've grown so well and— damn.” 

The boxer standing before him is drastically different from the person he last saw two years ago. He’s not as fit rather skinny but the way he puts it now he’s got a massive glow up that takes him by surprise. With Taeyong by growing inches, his skinny fit that is now lean that is packed with muscles due to the strenuous training he’s put into and the eye catching tattoos that're lingering on his arms. He smirks at the sight of your familiar face minimalistically tattooed on his forearm. 

He inwardly chuckles. Fools. 

Doyoung didn’t waste the fraction of his time and drags a protesting Taeyong all the way at level four. Taeyong throws a questionable look, “What are we here for? Is Donghyuck in Nursing? Wait… are we here for him?”

“You’ll see… and no, let the moon be green first then we’ll see him here.”

“Oh.”

A chill runs down Taeyong’s spine. The heavy traffic they went through made him thirsty to the bone—now he wanted to drain his bladder. He calls out while eyeing the figure ahead of him, “Doyoung?”

Doyoung answers him with a shit-eating grin that made Taeyong think to himself. Is Doyoung in love at the moment? “Yeah?”

“I need to pee. The traffic sucks, I had to drink to keep myself entertained.”

He hums, not processing every word Taeyong says. He calculates everything in his disposal. From his distance, he can see your back facing the door where he’ll lead Taeyong into. Thus, hitting two lovefools. 

“Fancy. Go over to that room.” Taeyong glances at the room Doyoung is pointing at. He didn’t question the boy further because his bladder is asking for a fucking break. He slowly approaches the room while lost in his thoughts. He leans on the doorframe and asks where the lavatory is. Then, immediately jogs down the corridor without a word. 

Doyoung stands there, expectant and all smiley. Until he sees a different face entertaining Taeyong and your figure marching away with your friend, Dia. Doyoung attempts to call for your attention but you’re already out of earshot. He clicks his tongue in irritation. Cupid fails. 

You sluggishly drag your feet inside your room. Doyoung is nowhere to be found until you hear muffled singing so you reckon he’s in the shower doing his thing. You press your lips into a thin line while casting a look around your ransacked room that has been untouched for months. It may be the course of adrenaline pushing and so you cleaned. 

Doyoung walks around the shared place without a top that isn’t a sight that makes you utterly surprised anymore. You both share collective memories together, all deep and humiliation. So seeing him in his boxers early in the morning isn’t disturbing anymore. You do though, when he smiles. 

Doyoung squints, eyeing your figure going from one part of your room to another. He knows you don’t have plans on throwing yourself into the inviting city to lash out your stress from the months you have spent in university but rather dancing. Unbeknownst to you, he’s planning something to stop you from doing your ridiculous dances in front of the farm animals  sparing them the ridiculous sight after all he’s an animal rights advocate. 

Tonight is the homecoming party for Taeyong that surprisingly spreads out in the university like a wildfire. It will be damn-ed as the probability of both of you meeting might not be high due to the flood of party-goers rushing for the free alcohol and the said sorority and because of your lazy ass. Doyoung dons his blank tank top and ruffles the damp mop of raven locks above his head. 

You glance from your door and see your best friend have an absolute glow up like he doesn’t look dead just from days ago. There’s no doubt that Doyoung has his own ravishing features-- his scar, tall nose, pink lips, and the over-all enticing eyes that elicits a mysterious aura.

“Where are you going?” 

Instead of answering your inquiry he taps furiously on his phone. You can sense the infuriating spark that glowers on the boy. He finally looks up at you. “There’s a party in Alpha.”

“You’ll be staying there?”

He coos. The hidden sneer you can hear that rolls out of his tongue with great clarity that immediately brings your eyes heavenwards. “Why? You’ll miss me?”

“As if.”

“I will be staying there. You should go, though?” Doyoung absolutely knows how such a party pooper you were that you’d rather stay home than mingling in a random college party or whatever social gatherings. Your reason? The signature ‘I hate going out, Kim Doyoung’. 

It is part of the practice of his sorority to give out roses to a homecoming member, as significant as a welcoming gift and roses have a deep meaning for the frat. He volunteers to bring the roses for Taeyong since he has a cupid business to attend. He purposely left the roses in his room for you to bring your lazy ass in the sorority house and deliver the parcel to Taeyong. He grins at the thought.

You grunt loudly, generally having no qualms on concealing your obvious irritation. “Why do you keep on grinning? It scares me.”

Doyoung raises a brow then chuckles afterwards. “I’m just happy that I will finally get laid after these past months of hellish semester,” he trails off and gives you a knowing look. “Bye!”

It got you off guard. Kim Doyoung getting laid?

He beams at your surprised face. “I will be late. The alumni might be there anytime soon.”

“Who is the alumni?” This has been the talk of the town next to the homecoming party. You have no idea who it is despite your best friend being in on the said sorority. 

Doyoung runs his hands over his hair again and gives you a lopsided smile. “Secret.” 

He makes a dash for the door leaving you hanging and hungry for answers. Knowing him, he’ll never spill no matter how you squeeze him into doing so. It frustrates you as curiosity is getting the best of you.

Doyoung didn't bother to spill the person because for all he knows you’ll be meeting him anytime soon. It’s Lee Taeyong.

It's eight in the evening and surprisingly you were being productive at bare minimum. You try to uplift your mood by beautifying your room to look like it’s been owned by a lady not some random drunktard. After cleaning, you prepare dinner but the constant ringing of your phone disturbs you mid-way. You didn’t spare the called ID a glance for you know who the call is from. 

You snarl. “What?”

The chaotic music in his background is making it hard for you to comprehend what the hell he was trying to convey. His voice lowers two tones down his usual. “Hey, can you bring the roses here? I forgot to bring it with me.” 

You immediately roll your eyes. “And why should I do that?”

Doyoung on the other hand is trying to rake up his brain for possible things to coax you to bring your ass and the roses in the party. The alcohol might be taking a toll on him but it’s helping him to think of an easy plan to bring you here without any questions arising from your mouth. “I’ll treat you to dinner.” And just like that. 

You let your pride be damned. A free dinner is always a key to do favors. You huff. “Where is it placed?”

Doyoung immediately grins. “At my room, on the plush chair by the window.”

You cannot decipher how complicated your best friend is sometimes. It aggravates you. He never forgets his things and you think that he is doing this on purpose just to make you walk out of the shared apartment. But whatever his intentions are, the free dinner he coaxed you with is promising. You walk inside his room and the sight of his perfectly tucked bed welcomes you, the bundle of crimson red roses sits by the grey chair just beside his window. You didn’t know much of his sorority’s practice nor the significance of the rose, but you chose not to further question the frat’s motive behind it as the free food is your topmost concern.

You scramble out of Doyoung’s room to fix your dishevelled appearance. You grab the blue summer dress on your bed and thrash in an oversized cardigan to spice out the look then you pumped some gloss and ran a blusher on your cheeks. 

Damn the man who spoils your plans on binge watching Netflix. Damn Kim Doyoung. And damn you for biting on his bait. 

You made a beeline for the door, your phone in hand and the roses in the other. 

It’s gonna be a long and young night. 

For a summer night, the wind is surprisingly chilly and not humid. The night sky is clear with the stars twinkling brightly along the perfectly arched moon. The walk to Alpha chi omega’s house is not that long by car but unfortunately, the university carpool is not available and so here you were walking to the farthest side of the university. 

It doesn’t take you long to locate the house out of all the similar frat houses lined up together like building blocks. The house that belongs to the hosting sorority is booming out loud with obnoxious music and the notable crowd of wasted college students going in and out of the main door. The place reeks of sweat and alcohol. The sight of red cups litters the front yard and the large ‘homecoming’ banner is perched up the front porch of the frat house. You feel out of place just by standing out there awkwardly with a bouquet of roses in hand while mentally cursing out and throwing imaginary daggers on Kim Doyoung. If it wasn’t for the free food, you would never be here. 

A familiar ass caught your attention but it isn’t Johnny’s but Mark Lee’s. A sophomore and a civil engineer major that you bump into occasionally because of Doyoung. You approach his figure and his dishevelled state really caught you off-guard. He’s standing in his overall glory; with black tee that clings onto his lean torso and grey sweatpants. His high cheekbones stand out and his cheeks are slightly flushed due to two reasons you are sure of, alcohol and the cramped crowd inside. 

You clear your throat as you attempt to voice out your concern however it comes out as a mere squeak. “Do you know where Doyoung is?”

Mark gives you a knowing smile while giving you directions on Doyoungs whereabouts. There’s something off about Mark’s sly smile. Confusion undulates on your soft features which made the younger grin even more. 

Another sophomore jumps into the picture. He sends Mark reeling on his position but the younger boy shoots up a grin as an answer to Mark’s scowl. His tan skin glows under the poor lighting on the front porch of their sorority house and he looks beautiful nevertheless. Haechan brings the red cup to his plush lips, his throat bobbing down with every gulp of the beverage. He breaths while giving you a mischievous grin. “Well, someone’s about to cross paths with someone.” He makes sure to give emphasis on the word someone while grinning up to Mark. 

You raise your brows. “Yes… Doyoung.”

Haechan clicks his tongue. “May the odds be with you, y/n.” They continue on gulping their drinks and leaving you questioning what the hell are they trying to imply. It seems like they are trying to point out someone is about to meet you but you weren’t sure who?

Making sure you were out of earshot, the two boys fished out for their phones. Typing in the same text flying into their minds.

‘She’s in, make sure Taeyong is in the damn kitchen.’

They know. Except for you and Taeyong. Talk about thrill. 

You stalk away and enter the house. Irritation bubbles inside your system like a brook. It feels as if everyone knows something that you should be aware of. No matter how hard you try to think of a person who you can possibly meet in here, there’s none in mind. You try to wipe it away by mentally taking a note that what you are doing is a commission; a full course meal paid by Kim Doyoung. 

The sight inside of the house is quite a scene; a wild scene to be exact. Typical. Bodies are grinding each other by the beat of the hired DJ, sweat and alcohol as well as humidity. You squeeze yourself through the crowd of wild college students. Some sort of liquid splashes your skin but you paid no attention to it. 

This is why you hate going out. The only time you have been dragged into a party is with Taeyong. No, it wasn’t obnoxious but rather magical. Anything done with Taeyong is always spectacular, he makes all the mundane things dull to extra. 

That was during the last years of highschool when he asked if you could go with him to this frat party and you obliged. It was also in the same setting of a summer night, young and chill. Deja vu. 

Taeyong holds onto your hips that night while he glowed perfectly underneath the pale moonlight. The dusk may have taken its way that time but you can still remember how bright he glows like a crazed halo. Maybe the reason why you can still find your way to the outskirts of the university where the sorority houses are found is because he already brought you here. And everything, every memory you have shared with him is always indelible. 

You can remember a quote from Fitzgerald. ‘So we beat on boats against the currents, borne back ceaselessly into the past’. You find yourself spacing out remembering how his soft lips brushes against your pinna, whispering words that replays over and over and over again. Both of your bodies stayed close, swaying with the melodic beat that the speakers blasted up. It was always Taeyong, his scar, his lips, his eyes that are always so alive. It was always him, always. 

Taeyong leaned over saying the words that no man you tried dated ever uttered to you. “You are my sweetest feeling that I know.”

You beamed up to him. “I think my soul is in love with yours.” 

And you will always be. And nostalgia hits. You miss Taeyong. He has so much space filled inside your heart. 

You finally squeeze yourself past the hungry and wasted crowd and head towards the kitchen where Mark instructed you to go. You narrow your eyes searching for the familiar figure of your bestfriend but he wasn’t there, not even a trace of his silhouette. 

The kitchen is bustling with alcohol. Piles of beer cans, half empty bottles of wine and few bottles of soft drinks dominated the sleek black granite countertop. You walk near the kitchen island where several drinks are offered placed haphazardly allowing the people to nurse their own drinks. You had your back facing the opposite hall that leads to the dining area while clutching the roses for your dear life. 

Taeyong is leaning against the wall facing the dining area where his highschool friends are currently at. The rose ceremony was delayed because of Doyoung and so he busied himself by trying to catch up with his old friends. 

“How’s life so far, Taeyong?”

Taeyong smiles, he’s always as fresh as raindrops. “Usual.” 

They laugh. “How ‘usual’ is usual though?”

Taeyong thought to himself. It is bland, empty and he always finds himself staring past the mirror trying to remember how your face looks like since the last glance he had was exactly two years ago. He shrugs his shoulders and lifts the red cup to his lips. The alcohol rakes his throat, foreign. “A couple of punches here, training there, matches here, and rings over there. Usual.”

They continue on carrying their own conversation on which Taeyong lost interest. He just stares, his mind traveling and wandering. A high pitched screech alerts him, he immediately settles the cup down, the contents splashing over the dinner table. A woman is on her knees, clutching her lips with her hands. 

Taeyong immediately crouches down. “Hey, are you okay?”

She slurs and Taeyong tries to comprehend what she is trying to convey. “Wuh-teeeeer…”

“Huh?”

“Wuuuuh-teeer…”

Water. 

He immediately assists the girl to the kitchen sink. Dragging her slumped body slowly towards the kitchen floor. He tries to call out someone in hopes to help him with the inconvenience. But the kitchen is surprisingly empty. 

It’s a plan to have two souls meet together in one. But fate must’ve fucked up the plans of the brotherhood. For the one soul is mending a random wasted college girl and the other one is fuming in anger. 

You storm out of the kitchen when you are about to brandish a cocktail while waiting for Doyoung. Someone approaches you, pouring a beer into a red plastic cup. 

“All right, babe, you’re free tonight?” He nods, concentrating on getting his foam right while looking at you intently. You didn’t know who this guy was, but bold of him to be so overly confident. Pity he was a massive stoner from the looks of his red eyes. And he’s not, never, your type. 

“I’m not interested.”

His eyebrows went all sarky. “Why, you got a date?”

You face him entirely. “Look. I told you I’m not interested so don’t get too overly friendly and get the hell out of my face.”

He settles his cup on the counter and crosses his arms over his chest while leaning over to you, clearly invading your personal space. “Why should I do that?” 

You wrinkle your nose at the smell of his breath. “God. I’m out of here.”

You let your feet drag you away from the party. 

Oblivious to the failure, the other members of the sorority gather themselves around the front porch obnoxiously betting to one another. They have this one picture in mind, a painting of Michaelangelo, the creation of David. Where two fingers connect. Little did they know. There isn’t a meeting that happened in the first place. 

“I bet my ass, those two have already met!” Hyuck yells. “Homeboy must’ve scored!” 

And they all holler at once. Then, they hear someone clearing their throat. 

“Goodbye. I’m heading home.”

The boy’s eyes widens at the sight of you at the door, fuming. Doyoung is at the end of the staircase, examining you. He inquires, “Did you meet someone?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, you,” you approach him and hand the roses. “Someone must’ve been so drunk he directed me to the kitchen when you are actually here.” You shoot Mark a look as soon as you finish your sentence and he answers with a sheepish grin.  

You turn to Doyoung, “Treat me to a nice dinner tomorrow.”

It’s confusing for him. “Wait… you really didn’t meet someone? Why are you leaving so sudden?”

The boys quiet down suddenly, all confused with the matter. 

“Oh, I did meet someone.”

“Yeah?” Sparks of excitement ignited inside Doyoung's chest. 

“Yeah…” you sigh. “A fucktard to be exact.”

Doyoung’s brows furrow for a moment then realization hits him. There’s never an encounter that happened like he initially expected to. The roses didn’t reach Taeyong. And you were also mad which is uncommon. You clear your throat again, “I will head home.” 

You lightly smack Doyoung cheeks and head off. 

“No way Taeyong is…a fucktard though?” 

“Man, go home you’re drunk.”

“I heard my name.” All heads whip towards the direction of the voice. Taeyong. 

A confused silence filled their friend circle before Mark interrupted mid-way, “No way Ty....”

They all groan in disappointment. The roses shenanigans didn’t work. 

Johnny slurs. “Maaaaaan, if someone didn’t get a shot. I’ll be getting my own shot.” And he stumbles on his own feet and lands on Mark and accidentally kisses him on the lips. 

Mark immediately pushes the taller guy away from him. A scowl paints his face while wiping his lips furiously. “Maaaan, what the fuck are youu doin’ maaan?”

Johnny yells, “No homo, bro!” And continues on peppering the protesting Mark with kisses. 

Sunday arrives faster than you have expected it to be. The professors were much more considerate with the classes and decided to have an interval for each class so it’ll be less of a burden for the students. After the party from Doyoung’s sorority everything seems to be a cultural reset from partying to lessons real quick. This is college and you are really accustomed to it. 

You ponder, there is just something—sort of difference in the air surrounding you and Doyoung—something like he’s been plotting something so evil or mischievous and it kneads in your chest that you’re the prey. Or whatever that is. 

He doesn’t say a word when you drag him to a restaurant of your choice but you are pretty much sure that deep inside he’s cursing you with all his might. You try to annoy him, testing his patience yet he answers you with a forced smile. But the way his eyes spark with such animosity is enough evidence to show how infuriated he is that he needs to pay for your dinner. And too bad for him, you have a big appetite. 

“What do you fancy eating today? Stir fried rice, or,” he stares dumbfoundedly at the large menu while scratching the back of his head. He mumbles incoherently, “I will just go with the black bean noodles.”

Doyoung’s body turns around towards your direction, “What do you want?”

You state all of your orders and you can clearly see the way Doyoung’s face grimaces. The cashier jots down the orders and Doyoung pays the bill with a pained expression ebbing his face. It was beyond entertaining when he was clutching the bill so tightly, the cashier had to muster such great effort to pull away the bill out of his iron grip. It was his fault anyways; he’s being such an idiot. 

“How’s your major?” you beam while mixing the fried rice. The mouth-watering sight in front of you made your stomach turn somersaults. Has it been months since you have eaten legit food? You didn’t know but right now you just want to stuff yourself up. Free food is always much more tastier than those that you pay for. 

“I’m taking up three units for fundamentals of political science,” he blows up the searing hot noodles and slurps it all. Doyoung’s cheeks puffs as he chomps loudly on his food. 

There’s a deafening silence between both of you. Minding your own businesses until Doyoung’s phone rings obnoxiously, disturbing each other’s peace. He picks up the vibrating phone with his lithe fingers and scowls at the caller ID, “What?”

You stare at him in silence. Still devouring the freshly served food on the table. Doyoung dramatically settles his phone on the table. An expression of agony painting his slender face. You ask, “What?”

He never tries to conceal the words he just spatted. Making you wanna hide away in embarrassment as the other customers shot you both dirty looks. “I want to poop.”

It’s taking a whole lot of effort for you to not headbutt the raven haired boy that is sheepishly grinning at you. You really do. The straightforwardness of Kim Doyoung can be excruciating for the people around him and you are not an exception. 

You grit your teeth, “Then go! I don’t have the loo with me! Jesus Christ!” 

He raises his brows and settles his chopsticks on the table. He clutches his chest. “After the good deed I have done to you, this is what you are gonna pay me back? You’re heartless.”

Alright, the weight of his statement has hit you straight to the gut. You try with plenty of effort not to shoot him a leer. You clear your throat and push away the growing impatience as you hoist your bag to your shoulders ready to get something for him. With the conscience card that he has recently pulled, you know he wants you to get him something. “What do you want?”

He smiles and uncoils from his slouch, rising to his full height emitting this smug superiority. “Gatorade.”

You squint your eyes and muster the deadliest death glare you can throw towards him. “You’re lying like… what is the gatorade for? You’re clearly making me pay you in return!”

He frowns at your claim. “I’m dehydrated. I chugged down plenty of beer, do you think that’ll make my stomach happy? Do you want me to fart on you to further support my claim?”

You roll your eyes in disbelief, “You’re gross.”

“I’m just trying to support my claim.”

“How? By broadcasting your physical state?”

He tries to open his mouth for another retort yet you immediately wave your hands in defeat. Bickering with him is like talking to a smart wall. He will try to twist everything until you want to give up, like practically shoving your head underwater. And the fact that he’s a political science student, of course arguing is one of his best specialties. 

You left as soon as both of you finished your meals. You rake up your brain of possible stores that sell Gatorade and the first thing that has popped into your mind was the convenience store on the east avenue that used to be you and Taeyong’s favorite spot. The memories flood your brain. 

“What does it taste like?” Taeyong asks, his brown orbs staring at you with such longing. 

“Sweet.”

He raises his brows, “Oh?”

“Yeah, have a taste,” you offer him the sponge cake you’ve been munching a while ago. You extend your arm in his direction and scroll absently on your phone. Before you can even complain about why it is taking him a long time to have a taste, his lips are already smashed against yours. 

Goosebumps immediately rises up to its wake upon the feeling of Taeyong’s lips on yours. This is your favorite feeling, something that only Taeyong can do to you. His tongue grazes your lower lip in a deliciously slow pace of which made you enthralled in the process. In response, you part your mouth to meet him halfway. 

He pulls back and smiles at you. “It’s so sweet, like you.”

You immediately blink to snap away from your reverie. You whisper underneath your breath, “Focus, y/n.”

Two years. Two fucking years have passed yet you are still drowning with the memories of him. 

The chime resonates in the store, signaling your recent arrival. The cashier gives you a curt nod then returns to sort out the products that lay on the countertop. You immediately made a beeline for the freezers at the farthest part of the store and grabbed the striking blue drink that appeared similarly like those occasional highlights on Doyoung’s hair. You sigh while clutching the cold beverage, “Just like his stupid highlights.”

It happens so fast that you cannot decipher the scene that unfolds before you. A figure looms behind you grabbing a watermelon smoothie, his body slightly clashing on yours when you attempt to walk towards the cashier. He is clearly towering over your height and his back is facing you. The guy’s shampoo or cologne has a tinge of a melon undertone that really reminds you of Taeyong of which derives from the fact that he is standing so close to you. Secondly, you can feel the humming warmth that radiates off his body. You gulp hard. 

You mentally curse at tangling yourself in an awkward situation. You should leave yet you find your face heating up, stunned with your brain freezing. You pause for a good minute to observe the stranger.

A chill runs down your spine at the sudden feeling and the proximity. You clearly know that this guy is a stranger, but there is a sudden feeling erupting inside you and your mind is coaxing you that he isn’t. He’s not a stranger. You stare at his back, trying to rake up who possibly this guy is. He had a mop of grey hair, dangling earrings on each side and a driven aura. You reckon he is handsome as well, judging by the way he can carry himself through the store. Your mind is in a state of an endless blackhole, empty. All you could think is the fact that his alluring scent has you biting inside of your cheeks and ogling at him shamelessly. 

The guys must be feeling the heavy weight of your gaze from behind. And so, he turns his head slightly to his right giving you the sight of his ungodly sharp jawline. You didn’t get a good sight of his eyes since it’s covered by the occasional strands of his titanium colored hair. You blink hard, that fucking jaw is really familiar. The fucking tall nose is familiar. The guy nods his head in veneration and whispers a small “sorry.” And stalks away. You hear the bell chimes. 

Your heart starts to slam against your chest out of nowhere when you finally formed all the puzzle pieces together. That familiar voice lacing with softness and care. The hair, the jaw, the nose, the way he dresses. No, this isn’t just one of your imaginations. You know, it’s him, isn’t he? 

You make your way through the snacks aisle to chase after the guy. He’s just inches away from the door when you suddenly grab his jacket sleeve. You smile, “Taeyong?”

“Uhm… do I know you?”

Your expression suddenly drops. The guy you just pull in is not the guy from earlier. He looks foreign with his hair in the shade of burgundy. You sheepishly apologize, but it comes out as a mere squeak from embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I think I have mistaken you for someone else.”

“No shit. It’s alright.”

You pay for the beverage and snatch the parcel. You scramble to your feet quickly in hopes of searching for him. You know deep down, you’re sure of it. You crane your neck as far as you can possibly go until a voice laced from behind. 

“What the fuck are you doing? And where’s my drink?”

You whip your body towards him and hand him the Gatorade. 

Doyoung frowns. He tries to conceal the growing annoyance from his insides. Trying to act like his stomach frustrates him but the truth is, he is actually infuriated by the fact that Taeyong left the store so soon before you could even reach him. And he sees the scene unfold to himself. He huffs. With all the meticulous planning he thinks of, plus the help of his friends but still it isn’t enough that everything is derailing his momentum. Not just you and Taeyong but fucking fate itself. 

At this moment all Doyoung thinks of is a ceasefire, he gives up. He’s one everything—including faking an upset stomach and practically broadcasting that he wants to shit just for the sake of both of you because Johnny notifies him of Taeyong’s whereabouts. Doyoung’s face is quite red by the chilly wind of Sunday night. He announces after trying to cool down his frustrations, “I’m going home.”

You raise your brow, “But you said we’ll still eat downtown?”

Doyoung glares. Now he’s back with his usual demeanor that you could easily taunt by throwing him a series of provocations. But you choose not to, he seems to be in a really bad mood. Not to mention diarrhea lies that you seem to be picking up. “I’m mending a stupid stomach.”

And before you could pull him back, his long legs already take him a long distance from yours. 

Your feet backs up automatically and blend into the crowd. You cover your cheeks with your hands trying to wipe off the chilly wind that kisses you. Your summer dress’s hem flies after the sway of your hips. The adrenaline is still coursing through your veins due to the last encounter with the stranger in the convenience store. His alluring scent is still fresh in your mind and it only reminds you of the guy you are still obviously in love with. You shouldn’t be anymore, but there is still a spark that ignites through your chest.  And in your mind there is this feeling of familiarity that lights up the fire that has long died two years ago. It’s not just a plain sense of belonging though, it’s Taeyong, and he always feels like home. It’s been two years since Taeyong ended everything nicely. Yet something is quite strange as the feeling of longing for him suddenly went away with just a simple encounter that you weren’t even sure if it’s him in the first place. 

You utter to yourself, “It’s him, I’m sure of it.”

But the never ending question plays around your mind like a broken record. Are you really sure? Are you ready to face him after two long years?

You hug your figure as you make your way through the same familiar tracks of your favorite pancake house in the main district. You should be home right now, yet the alluring scent of pancakes has you dragging your feet into their shop. 

The small shabby shop that is designed with occasional aesthetic trinkets makes it stand out amongst the industrial buildings beside it. It is bustling and alive with the swarm of people going in and out of their main door, stomachs full and satisfied faces. You enter the door swiftly, the scent of freshly cooked pancakes thrills inside your nostrils. The familiar tune of summer by Calvin Harris blasts on the speakers in the small diner. 

When I met you in the summer To my heartbeat sound We fell in love As the leaves turned brown

The diner is very crowded tonight. You struggle to go past through the crowds but you understand, the pancakes they sell here is to die for. 

And we could be together baby As long as skies are blue You act so innocent now But you lied so soon When I met you in the summer

Your face immediately lights up when the cashier hands you the awe-striking sight of the freshly cooked pancakes, flooding with maple syrup with occasional strawberries there and frostings that adorn the stacks. You took a whiff of the familiar cologne with a watermelon undertone from a while ago, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus especially when a pancake is making you so thrilled to eat. 

The bustling sound of the city mixes with the catchy tune of summer and you find yourself dancing slightly along it’s melody. The lights above you cast a warm yellow glow on your face while you are waiting for a change. You answer the cashier with a smile when she hands you the cash. When you turn around, it wasn’t the aesthetic decoration of the diner that surprises you. But your ex boyfriend’s handsome face comes to your view. Your heart pounds inside your chest, yes you were longing for him, and there he is. Fate plays. 

When I met you in summer. 

You whisper but Taeyong manages to hear that soft call that he fucking miss so much. Those plump lips of yours that utter his name with such love and endearment, “Taeyong.”

It takes you, well, a whole hour to plop down and listen to your best friend rant about you and Taeyong. The way he did plan everything but according to him,

“Fuck fate. Fuck destiny. But I’m glad though, even if I look like a villain trying to overthrow you two.”

You just know that he is beyond frustrated that he didn’t get the both of you meet with his own mirthful ways but nevertheless, he is happy. You, on the other hand, are still shocked. Not that you had a bitter feeling, but Taeyong really had a drastic change compared to two years ago. You barely even know him. 

It comes to your knowledge that he is really famous now, with his alias Kingpin plastered all over the city. He got home for a match with this Gregory guy that you haven’t heard of which is the fact that you are oblivious to it, all of it. Taeyong was stunned that you didn’t know anything about him or boxing, and you felt bad and so you made a mental note to research about it and him. He looks much more handsome than ever. With his doe eyes that hold a strong sense of contradiction, it’s strong full of aura and fire yet soft and endearing at the same time. The favorite rose like scar is still prominent underneath his right eye. His nose. His lips, those lips, it takes you an ounce of effort to hold back and not to think of unnecessary thoughts while observing the way how slow his mouth opens whenever he speaks or how pinkish it appears. 

Doyoung asks you while he plops himself comfortably on your bed. “What happened in the pancake house?”

It is awkward. 

After you whisper his name it feels like everything stopped. Both of you are like statues glued to your spots, holding deep eye contact. You can feel yourself flustered underneath his strong gaze. Those gaze that gives you an impression that he’s been undressing you already just with those eyes. It lasts for seconds, until you are both shushed by the staff for the queue is getting long. 

You flinch but relax the moment after when Taeyong’s hands found its way to your hips. Just like old times. He didn’t utter a word, instead he’d silently lead you to the table just near the door. You immediately elicit a gasp when the warmth of his hands suddenly disappeared. You blink hard then place your plate down and silently nibble on the edges of the pancake waiting for Taeyong’s arrival. 

Now that he’s much nearer, you can smell his strong scent. It doesn’t hurt your nose but the watermelon undertone stays in your nose for a while. A chill runs down your smile when he has plopped down comfortably in his seat giving you a fresh smile that makes your heart pound against your chest out of nowhere. 

Taeyong is itching to talk to you. He clears his throat, “So… I didn’t know you were actually staying here.”

You really couldn’t get a control of your voice, instead it came out really weak and not as strong as you hoped it would be. Out of all moments, your body is slowly betraying you upon the sight of the beautiful Taeyong. You really pray that he doesn’t catch you on. “I didn’t reach the quota in Missouri, and then the application period for Hansville is already closed. So I just stayed, I hate new enviro—”

Just as you could mention the environment, Taeyong already did. He gives you a playful look, “Environment?” There’s actually no point in small talk, because Taeyong knows everything about you but he did just for the sake of seeing you, your lips, your beauty, he’s risking it all. 

You feel your chest vibrate with laughter, “You couldn’t blame me though, I hate people.”

Taeyong grins. But his eyes are glimmering of darkness that surfaces his orbs. Taeyong knows and he sees it all, his overall effect on you. His lips start to stretch more into a wolfish grin while inching closer to you. 

You instantly gulp while staring at him back. “Why?”

“Are you really sure about that, y/n sweetheart?” His breath smells like mint that fans out your cheeks when he slowly dragged those words from his tongue. Casting instant warmth over your cheeks and activating your gooseflesh. 

You find yourself struggling for words upon the catch of his old nickname for you. Especially when he’s in this state, the usual laid back manner. You hate people alright, but you had exceptions like Dia, Doyoung and unfortunately him as well. He immediately retracts from slouching and straightens up his posture. He licks his bottom lips slowly. Honestly, watching Taeyong is making you suffer internally. 

“I really missed you, y/n.” He says, his voice echoing with deep timber that laces with velvet and sweet. But those words aren't imbued with sarcasm or mockery rather laced with deep sincerity. 

Those words somehow pinches you. You do right? But there is something holding you back. Fear? You let out a grin but it looked really forced with all your teeth gritted. “It was good seeing you again, Taeyong.” You clear your throat for the nth time and try to push out the strange feeling away in your gut. 

Both of you finish up your pancakes and he offers you a walk to your apartment. Both of you are not speaking letting the summer wind speak for both of you. The familiar building welcomes your sight, there is light in your unit’s window so you reckon Doyoung is still with the world. Taeyong clears his throat and stops in his tracks, “I guess this is your home, no?”

You smile, “Yes.”

He approaches you with such agility in an astounding manner. You catch a whiff of those familiar fruity scents again when he leans closer to you. In response you immediately shut your eyes, expecting. But there are no kisses delivered. Way to go and make yourself a fool. 

He chuckles. “Can I get your number?”

Your whole face heats up as if you’ve been submerged in a tub of boiling water. You open your eyes and divert your gaze away from his playful ones. “Of course, Hand me your phone.”

“Just scribble it down my forearm.”

“What?”

“My phone died but I got some marker, so just jot the digits down.” He fishes for the pen and hands it to you. His calloused hands brushing yours, and those small forms of touch still delivers the extreme effects to your body. 

Those sinful arms. Your fingers are shaking while jotting your numbers down, his bulging veins are too much of a distraction especially whenever he flexes it. 

You bid him goodbye and speed walk away to enter your unit, missing the smile that ghosts his lips at your marching figure. 

You couldn’t wipe Taeyong’s images that night from your mind and so does he. Hell, If you can just see how those smile never leaving his face at his unexpected meeting with you. 

The sound of a rustling bedsheet snaps you to reality. 

You stare at Doyoung. “It was okay.”

His brows arch upwards as if mocking you. “Liar.”

Heaven knows it wasn’t just okay, you indeed enjoyed having him as company. 

An exasperated groan leaves out your body as the bell rang obnoxiously signaling the end of the final period. You immediately hoist your bag over your shoulder and march away from the school as fast as you could. 

Unbeknownst to you, you are crossing paths with Taeyong in a day more than you had imagined. Just yesterday, you bump into him just when you were thinking about him. And his divine sight welcomes you, with his sun-kissed skin shimmering underneath the rays of the summer sun, his neck glistening with a thin sheen of sweat and those eyes that ignites with unexplainable aura and intensity. 

You hate to admit but he has changed so drastically and you could use the term cool, to describe him and his current state. You see him jog around the oval with his titanium hair striking up giving more emphasis to his sharp features. It’s parted haphazardly and damp. His tank top is clinging to his torso soaked with perspiration. His biceps strains out, he’s not that bulky type but with occasional muscles here and there, his physique is much more lean. And with just those charismatic looks, it never fails to send you a pool of pleasure, there. 

You feel a shiver when he turns around and runs a finger to his hair. His prominent veins bulged out as he tugged on his hair, fixing it into place. Your eyes trail down further until you see his abs on full display, coming to your view. 

Fuck. Fuck everything and your raging hormones. You immediately return your gaze up to his face and you feel your face heating up when it comes to your realization that he’s been observing you as well. His gaze never leaves yours, then one moment, he lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe off his face. Giving you the view that you've been ogling at. He knows what you like and he’s giving it to you without any protest. 

The sun shines through the oval, casting a yellowish glow on his body. His soft flesh is glowing with the occasional tattoos adorning his ribcage. You immediately gulp in hopes to diminish the growing sensation blooming in your stomach. But it never left, especially when Taeyong’s smile is being shot out towards your direction. 

He’s really pleased to see you, especially seeing you in that body fitting uniform that makes him go hard on a summer’s day. 

He approaches you without wiping the smile off his face. You fidget while trying to compose yourself not wanting to embarrass yourself much further. The night when you met him the first is enough. 

“Fancy seeing you here. Are you headed home?”

“I ought to but I think I want to take a walk to the park.” 

The bag straps dares to slip out of your shoulders. You utter an incoherent, “fuck.”

Taeyong immediately changes his expression. He looks at you in concern as he catches on your discomfort. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

“Oh… it’s just that the professor advised us to bring all three books for a collaborative reading but he didn’t show up.”

“Hmm…”

“And then I was tasked to report to the home room adviser so practically I have to carry out these heavy books while climbing up to the fourth floor.”

You immediately shut your mouth and your rants when you saw how he grew silent. You bit your lip and apologized meekly, “Sorry, I was just so tired from the summer class and this bag—”

He doesn’t utter a word but he grabs the bag away from you even before you can protest. He groans, “Damn, these are heavy.”

“They are.”

He stretches out his hand to you. “Come, let’s go to the park.”

You protest. Your eyes widening at his declaration. “But… but, you still have your training?”

“Nah. I can make time.”

And he pulls you away. His hand holding you dearly, just like old times. The warmth of his hands filling up those spots of yearning you had from his two year disappearance. 

The walk to the nearest park wasn’t as deadly silent like the first night you both met. With both of your shoulders bumping and hands intertwined. You were not holding back anymore, clearly stating all of your distaste towards your college professors passionately with Taeyong chuckling in response. The conversation carries on smoothly filling out the gap that both of you had withdrawn from the years of absent communication. It’s filling out the space as both of you are talking about the randomness in all things possible not letting the implicit dead air eat out the aura engulfing you two. 

Taeyong is not much of a talker, but when he does, everything that rolls out of his tongue could really hold a significant place in the listener’s memory. This fact still piques you up at the sight of his doe eyes quietly invested whenever you talk. You are always the talker between the two of you. 

You can notice it from your periphery. You can feel the heavy weight of his drowning gaze piercing right through you as he examines you with such curiosity. You halt at your impending speech about student organization, feeling a lot more hotter than usual. The silence ebbed its way like how a beacon flies away from a started up fire. You let out a sharp intake of breath as you muster all your courage to reciprocate his heavy gaze. 

You let out an airy laugh, “Is there something on my face?”

The way his demeanor changes drastically before your very eyes. His deep eyes are luminous, that made you feel some sort of deep mystification. His eyes are clearly looking at something through you, or searching for something to mend a yearning that is situated deep in his chest. He missed looking at your face, and a single gaze couldn’t fill those years of him trying to familiarize your face with those dusts in his memory. 

“You’ve changed so much,” he says. His eyes are not leaving yours. You could almost feel some tinge of connection with just the way he stares down at you with deep adoration. That shoots out a simmering feel underneath your skin and painting out your face with searing hotness. 

You try to conceal yourself by clearing your throat. “How do you know?”

“I keep on looking at you.”

“I can see that,” you state in a matter of fact. Challenging him further, “why is that?”

His lips immediately tugs upright at the change of your tone. He pushes in, further stretching out your curiosity, “Do you really wanna know?”

“Why?”

He blinks slowly, his eyelashes slightly fluttering against his eyelids. He opens his lips, “I wanna feel those lips again.”

You gulp hard when you see his gaze drops down to your lip level. That is the same thing you were thinking of the first time you saw him, don’t you? You also gawk at his as well, playing along the colors of a pale pink rose and crimson chrysanthemums. You can feel your brain struggling out to think of a thing to get away in this scenario you are in, instead you are lost in thought while looking at his lips. You definitely want to feel those lips as well. 

“Why don’t you do it then?”

You lift the edges of your lips into a playful smile testing out the very edge of Taeyong’s patience. You must’ve stunned him at your vulgarity since he is opening his mouth for a retort but nothing rolls out. 

“A-are you sure?”

This is the connection you were talking about. The constant pounding of both of your hearts are beating in sync against your rib cages. Feeling the same sense of want for each other’s touch. The butterflies flying around your stomach in an erratic manner. 

“Do it.”

You thought he’s gonna hold back, but the sudden feeling of his lips crashing on yours had you sending in a skyrocketing ecstasy. 

You didn’t get a hold of how long it has been, but all you can think of how sensual everything is. Goosebumps arise on your skin at the feeling of Taeyong’s tongue slowly grazing then nibbling on the plump flesh of your lower lip. You unconsciously let out a quiet moan that gave him access to meet you along the process. 

Taeyong relaxes for a bit and you feel his hands slowly crawling up your arm and find its spot and settle it softly on your jaw. He caresses you slowly with such delicacy, afraid to give you a scratch. You are really lost with his mouth connected with yours. You are too stunned to think of something but it felt magical and passionate. 

He slightly tilts his head towards his left and pushes your face more into him to deepen the kiss. His tongue grazing through the underside of your mouth. 

He breaks the kiss, but his hands never left your cheeks. His forehead is resting on yours, a smile is ghosting his lips but his eyes are closed. He whispers your name sweetly causing a feeling of sparks igniting inside your chest. You rest your hands on his shoulders, gripping on it for dear life and to calm your nerves. 

You can see the slow flutters of his eyelashes and how it cast a hollow shadow on his cheekbones. His breath slightly fans your face and you find yourself ticklish. He finally opens his eyes and how it holds such light, alive like the galaxy. He gives you a smile, “I really missed this.”

Then he leaned again to press on several small kisses, peppering your face with his lips while making smooch sounds. You immediately let out a giggle. His touch stays put, hot and tantalizing you can almost feel yourself burning. 

This is what Taeyong has been dreaming of. How he yearns for that tinge of strawberry that he only gets to taste whenever he’s kissing you. You taste so sweet. Overly saccharine it made him much more alive. 

Days past to weeks. It’s a routine like you expected it, impending torment every morning which is summer classes. But someone has added some spice to your monotonous life; Lee Taeyong. There has been a change in the atmosphere engulfing both of you— something that touches a nostalgic feeling — a slight nudge to your heart. 

He is currently leaning at the back door frame of your classroom. Watching you struggle to finish up an essay that is currently due in fifteen minutes. That is exactly the sight he would die to see. 

“Start with the main points first before you elaborate the sub points,” he beams. Good thing, you are situated at the very back and so you are both out of ear shot. You press your brows all together, concentrating on the damn vague subject but the scent of Taeyong is too distracting. 

He crouches down and snatches the pen away from you, scribbling a lopsided pyramid with all the words as your starter. You stare at him and he gives you a smile in return. The way his eyes turn into moon crescents that made your heart churn. Do you really deserve those smiles? 

He whispers proudly, “There. That should keep you on track.”

You gasp, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He steals a kiss from you and stalked away with his phone on his ear.

Later that day, your phone keeps buzzing against your ass. The first ever text you’ve received from Taeyong. He had a new number. 

[pretty but flat as a board lee taeyong] [4:16 PM] I hope you finished your paper! [4:18 PM] its taeyong btw [4:23 PM] uhm,,, perhaps you want to go for a ride,, like fuck I hate texting dhhdhd [4:23 PM] but I wanna show u around our boxing gym if you would like of course… [4:25 PM] text me back, yeah?

You immediately grin at the message. 

[4:26 PM] alright, as long as you treat me dinner :D [4:27 PM] alsoo… thank you, I said it already but I want to thank you agaaain :) [pretty but flat as a board lee taeyong] [4:27 PM] you got that! :) [4:27 PM] see you!!! <3

You pretty much found yourself ogling at his last message. 

[4:28 PM] anything for you, sweetheart. I love you. 

Those messages from Taeyong got you in a state of deep conflict. You just thought of it as a simple get together and not a date. Right, that must be it, he just wanted to show you around the place where he boxes. That could be it. 

On the other hand, Taeyong knows that it isn’t just something as a plain go-out impromptu. He really mustered his courage to ask you out for a date. And he hasn't thought of a proper place since he’s not permitted to wander around the outskirts of the city not until after his upcoming match. The boxing gym could be the second destination after dinner. 

The shared relationship between the two of you has escalated more than just plain awkwardness. While you are munching out your yakisoba, Taeyong is eating out his salad, watching and lowkey happy that you are sharing a company with him even though the offer is quite a little bit absurd. You are now staring back at him whenever he does, occasionally throwing out flirtatious comebacks after the other. This made something spark out in Taeyong’s chest, is it a sign of your feelings coming back? Or something even bigger than the picture he has been painting? Commitment?

The walk to the boxing gym didn’t take up much of your time. Taeyong pushes the door and lets you enter in first. There are several people inside the gym and they all gave you a friendly greeting. There’s another man that approaches the two of you, probably a few years older than you and is handsome as well in his grey sweats and black shirt. His eyes mold into moon crescents as he greets you with all his pearly teeth showing, “You must be y/n? I’m Taeil, Taeyong’s other coach.”

The people in the gym scrambled out to the connecting unit to give you both privacy. It's just both of you, with the lights casting a warm glow between your bodies, the dumbbells untouched, the ring in the middle waiting for him. He leads you inside the ring as he hoists up the rope upwards for your entrance. The platform is quite slippery but Taeyong immediately guides you forward towards the middle with his hands gripping your hips tightly. You just watch him intently and you can see how he grew a lot more taller, practically hovering over your figure.

He demonstrates a simple punch here and there. Pointing out the parts of the ring but all of his words are muddled, swimming away as your attention is solely focused on his lips and the way his slender body sway with such grace and agility. 

He removes the glove and throws it away. He approaches you, “Are you gonna do something with the way that you are looking at me?”

He can feel it. Tonight is something different. The way both of you are staring right at each other’s soul is a little different. 

He slowly intertwined his fingers with yours then he holds it up to his lips to kiss your fingers gingerly. He’s taking his time to kiss one digit to another. Then, he leans slowly while grazing his lips onto the outer shell of your ear. Your body tingles at the warm breath fanning the right side of your face. “What does that stare mean huh? Y/n?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak with those tantalizing eyes staring at you, full of determination, smoldering with passion and lust. His touch on your hips is burning, shuddering as he caresses it down slowly emitting the rise of your goosebumps. His lips are brushing against your nose peppering small kisses just like old times. He handles you with such care like you are some sort of a delicate masterpiece by Michelangelo. 

You just want him. His lips. His entirety. You want Lee Taeyong. 

He caresses your jaw soothingly before leaning down to press a soft peck on your lips. Then, again and again. Until you encircled your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You feel him smile against your lips after reciprocating your hungry and passionate kisses. After all these years of yearning, you’ve never felt so alive. He’s something akin to fire that never fails to have your insides burn with so much spark and passion. 

He pulls you more, pushing your figure on his. It feels surreal with both your bodies molding into one. His soft touch turns into a passionate tug of war with your blouse. His hands run over those curvatures that are hidden by your top. Oh god, he knows how he missed doing these. 

Taeyong knows that you’re the catastrophe that yields this side of him. He loves you so much. And he believes that you are both made for each other, like planets meant to be aligned together. Your scent that smells like home with a touch of roses and bloom. Your lips that are perfectly made just for him, your tongue that slowly and carefully grazes his lower lip. The kiss that both of you are sharing is too sensual, different, grounded into something just like the very first one you have both shared. 

He nibbles on yours that triggers a soft moan from you. You immediately granted him entrance. The ghost of his touch is still lingering on your jaw, until he settles it down onto your hips. You are sure that he can the loud pounding of your chest, the way the big spark ricochets against your chest with every touch he leaves. 

It’s messy but surreal. Binding with much adoration and deep sense of lust. With his tongue exploring every bit of you. Tangling and connected by feelings. It is so romantic that you don’t want it to end.

He breaks the kiss, leaning against your temple. Ragged breaths resonate around the quiet gym. You take your time to settle your pounding heart and breath. You look at him, all but imbued with pure adoration and affection. His swollen lips whisper your name in awe and he smiles at how he dreamt of it and now it's unfolding before him. 

You just want to be like these. With you tucked under his protective embrace. Listening to his erratic heartbeat. But, you were still afraid. 

He whispers, “God. What will I do without you?”

“But… I’m always here.”

“But I won’t.”

You inhale a sharp intake of breath. “I don’t understand.”

“I might move out abroad for training.”

Those are the things you are always afraid of. Taeyong entering your life, then to leave out as soon you cannot contain yourself anymore, drowning with every piece of him, lost without his presence beside you. 

 This was your nightmares, coming back at square one broken and shattered. And it’s threatening to come back especially now that you are finding yourself falling for him, again.

It’s raining hard. Gloomy and heavy just like the constant barrage of thoughts clouding in your brain that you have overlooked a text message from Taeyong and Doyoung’s sudden appearance at your room.

“I can see a blooming college student, and why is that?” He teases but it wasn’t enough to make your mood lift not for a little bit.

“I don’t see myself as blooming though, why’d you say that?” 

“Don’t lie to me. I can see how lovely and alive you are when you’ve been hanging out with Taeyong.”

“It won’t be long. I should’ve known,” you wipe your face. “God, why am I such an idiot?”

His face immediately concerts to concern, he knows you’re in deep conflict and something wrong is up. “Tell me.”

You told him everything. The internal battle you’ve recently put yourself into Everything that has been bugging in your mind lately. “I’ve let him in my life once, then now, twice and right now I’m unsure of everything. I’m even afraid that I have to go through the past shits I was thrown into because he chooses his career more than… us. And I don’t want to feel that misery again.”

He hums, “Look.” You embrace yourself for an earful of lectures from him. “But, who cares about the past? It's already done but it isn't just you who suffered and undergone extreme shit.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re dumb, y/n.”

“I said what I said, Doyoung. This isn’t love, it could be just the wild force like lust or whatever...”

“No, you’re still swimming around this deep pool of conflict and denial.”

“It's easier to speak about someone, Kim Doyoung. But you don’t know what I am feeling right now, stop invalidating me.”

“I’m not. But I’m speaking as a best friend and I know you love him more than you know, you do.”

You snap, “Stop concluding things!”

“Oh yeah? But if you are unsure of Taeyong, why do you keep on texting with him when you know that you shouldn’t? What about those kisses you both shared when he dropped you off here yesterday? You don’t know but you’ve been drowning with the presence of Taeyong that you’re oblivious to the fact that everyone knows you’re lying. You still love him.”

“I just want to hang out but that necessarily means I do love him.”

Doyoung clenches his jaw and approaches your figure. You’re being too difficult. Your eyes widens at his sudden outbursts but what made you stunned is that he suddenly pulled your face to his, then he planted a soft peck on your nose. 

Doyoung knew this was coming, but he just wanted to help with the thing he knows will work. After all the shenanigans he pull, all of them didn’t work and ended the way he wanted in it be. By doing this, he will know if you are indeed in a midst of conflict or you really do love Taeyong. It’s a giveaway, if you do push him away, it just explains everything. If you do not, then he is wrong for pushing everything into your edge.

Doyoung is tall and thus, he can see the marching figure of Taeyong and how he stopped midway at the sight of both of you. From the perspective of Taeyong, it gives him a picture that both of you are kissing when in fact, Doyoung is just leaning down to match your height.

“What the hell?”

You immediately remove Doyoung’s hands from your face and spin quickly on your heels to meet him. “Taeyong, I can explain…”

Taeyong smiles bitterly, “No. save it.” He lets go of the material he’s been gripping through all this time. 

The sight of Taeyong, he’s beautiful as ever. But looking at his face painting into a mixture of plain reticence and agony surely made you sick to the gut. You hate to see him hurting and when he spun his heel to leave, you chased him off. Afraid of losing him, again. At this moment you have been sure of it, you love him more than you do. 

“Wait—“

He spins his heel but maintains a safe distance from you. “I didn’t know you and Doyoung had a thing, I should’ve known.”

“No! No, please, listen to me—“

His gaze is so dark with pain and anger. “I don’t want to hear anything from you. Imagine, I have been believing all these time, yet, fuck.”

“No, Taeyong…”

He snaps, “Do you really love me y/n? Or you’re just driven?”

That shuts you out. But you know that answer, it's just that fear is holding you from shouting out how much you love him. 

He smirks bitterly, “See? Those could answer everything.”

Heaven knows how much you love Lee Taeyong. How you are afraid of seeing him leave and never return back. 

The next days you are waking up to are the worst as you speak. The way every morning feels so heavy with a constant tirade of thoughts running over your mind like a shadow lurking by. Your mornings pass by bitterly without messages coming from Taeyong or his stupid voice overs that lulls you to sleep. Not even his sweet talks and songs. None of them all. 

It feels like shit to wake up with a heavy chest glooming with unexplainable feelings of confusion and denial. You hated to admit but you are so angry with yourself for being such a pussy. The constant loop of emotions that you feel, above all fear of having everything repeat again, then anger at yourself for hurting Taeyong, then regret because you know you could have done something better. You are well aware that you are just forcing yourself into this pool of anxiety. Afraid of something uncertain, when you shouldn’t be and it was just enough to drive Taeyong away. You could have just told him you loved him, but you were letting yourself be pulled out by your own judgements. Love means sacrificing, but you were such a coward for doing so.

Denial that was the cause of the pain that killed his passionate eyes. You know too well that what you have shared with him isn’t just something as plain lust but it was driven by deep love and passion. Yet, you couldn’t even correct out the stupid lie that Taeyong had to forcibly believe. Because you were so afraid of admitting that you are falling back to him, and you’re afraid that he might not be able to catch you out like he did before all because of boxing. 

But was it worth fearing for if it meant pushing him away? No. You loved him more than you do. Does it make you at ease to just bury down in your darkest pits and watch Taeyong disappear just because you were so afraid of taking up the risk? No. 

In the course of summer’s day and hazy afternoons you have spent with him, shoulder to shoulder, swaying with deep grace and agility, you have seen how smooth your relationship with him changed. Unbeknownst to you, the relationship shared between you has blossomed into something passionate and raw; full of emotion. No puppy love but special and mature. You hate to engage with people but with Taeyong around, there is a line that connects the two of you like two star-crossed lovers destined and made for each other. 

His smile never fails to cast positivity in your life, and hell you know, that you wanted to be a reason for those smiles as well. But how can you do it, when you were the reason why it won’t happen anymore?

You know you are just scared of letting him inside your life and then one moment, he’ll leave. His departure has deeply wounded and scarred you to the point that you don’t want it to happen anymore. This has always been a part of commitment, that obstacles are being thrown towards your way. But the more you think of it, the more selfish and worse you felt. He did support you all the time, especially when you mentioned to him two years ago that you wanted to go abroad for an internship or those times when he is determined to keep you on track despite his body failing because of the strenuous training he’s being shoved under. But when it was his time to go, instead of supporting him all the way, you eventually closed everything around you, even tried so hard to tell it without hurting you. That made you feel like shit. 

You try to diminish everything and try to focus on your classes but you constantly find yourself thinking about those titanium hair and passionate eyes. His kisses and burning touches. You stare at the pile of schoolworks stacked neatly at your table, waiting for your whole undivided attention. But you just couldn’t bring yourself to focus, not with that growing lump of sadness clogging on your throat.

It’s impossible to wave everything off like nothing of this ever happened, that Taeyong was just another episode in your life. But he wasn’t just someone that is a passerby, he’s engraved to your memory, and he’s that memory you wish to remember till death. 

It hurts to see his face into pain.

Lee Taeyong is the man that you’ve ever wished for. He loves without boundaries, without limits, without judgement. He’ll love you with all his might, disregarding all those flaws that you keep. He’s pretty with his soul so bright and pure. He’s like a rose in this dead garden that shines in his very own way. Bright red, full of determination, power and beauty. He’s so kind like the angel Gabriel. He was a dream come true for you, ethereal like a daydream, the love of your life that you pushed away because you were being such a coward.

A throb in your chest escapes when you see the crumpled paper discarded near the door. His neat handwriting comes to your view.

I just read the Notebook by Nicholas Sparks and saw this passage;

“I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I’ve led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who’s ever lived: I’ve loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.”

I love you with all my entirety, I know I have fucked up, but I am willing to do everything for you, just to be with you, forever. 

He just loves you and you were doubting everything. 

“Good thing I didn’t throw that paper away.”

You immediately spin around your heel and see Doyoung plopping himself comfortably on the sofa. 

“I’m still mad at what you’ve done.”

“I know, but if it wasn't for that show, you’ll never be as sure as you are now.”

“You’re bullshit.”

“I’m just helping you,” he clears his throat. “Now, tell me more.”

“No, until you tell why you did that stupid thing.”

He sighs. “It’s an eye opener for people in denial like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you heard Taeyong, you immediately pushed me away and chased after him… Why? Because you don’t want to see him get hurt because of a stupid and childish act.”

You didn’t answer.

“Now tell me more.”

You sigh again and close your eyes. Doyoung watches you patiently. “Doyoung, tell me, am I dumb for feeling this way? Afraid that he’ll leave me again because of boxing and selfish because I am just looking out for myself?”

“First of all, you are not dumb, academically could be, but no, you’re not. You see, whenever we feel fear, that just means that we love that person so much we are afraid to lose them. And don’t invalidate everything just because you are looking out for yourself.”

He continues on, “I know that the separation of you two were messed up and rushed because Taeyong had to train more and you cannot decipher the fact that he has to leave. And now that he’s back, you just don’t want to feel the same old misery you had to endure these years. But trust me, he feels the same way as you do. In fact, much worse because he chose boxing over you. But it's part of life and love, sacrifices happen and it makes the bond between the two stronger.”

“What do I do?”

“You see, you keep on returning back to your past, that it might happen again and again. Forget those, it's in the past, what is important is the present and that is what you should focus on. Feelings are really hard to keep up with. We’re humans, vulnerable. But I know that he really loves you.”

“I do, too.”

“Then, you should talk it out to him. Don’t rush things and take lithe steps.”

He approaches your figure and pulls you into an embrace. You feel your eyes burning with tears when he whispers, “If two people are meant to be together, they’ll eventually find their way back, and this is it, y/n.”

“What if he misunderstood?”

“He won’t. Trust me, he is my friend too.”

You feel a sense of comfort even if it's just a fraction of time. His words echoing around your mind, “If two people are meant to be together, they’ll eventually find their way back, and this is it, y/n.”

You find yourself dropping by their boxing gym. Taeil approaches you figure, awkwardly leaning against the door, kinda conflicted if you should set foot in the gym or not. 

“Hey,” he greets. His face is quite pale with the notable dark bags under his eyes, he looks really dishevelled. 

You bow your head, “Hey Taeil, what’s up?”

“Tired.”

“Oh, it's that so?”

“But he’s pretty messed up among all of us.”

He knows.

You can hear the disgruntled grunts and strong punches from the farthest side of the room. 

You let out a sigh, “Why is that?”

“You see, he’s been really expectant of this match but he was notified at the last minute that it was cancelled because his opponent was tested positive for using peds which is illegal,” he trails. “I think it made him upset given the fact that we have done extreme preparations and he was obliged to undergo a mandatory drug test when he hated doing it in the first place.”

You find yourself being stupefied, not knowing what to answer. “I’m sorry--”

You are interrupted midway when you hear constant shouts and punches. 

“It was found out that the contract of sponsorship was a fraud and used as a bait for us to bite on. He was really enraged.” Taeil clears his throat, “Now he’s been grilled by the trainers because there’s a big dip in his usual powerful performance. There was never a problem especially in training but his performance just escalated down and I really don't know how to help him either, I think he's really unmotivated.”

You feel really guilty because you were also the reason for his sudden drop in performance. 

You call out to Taeil and hand him the pink card, “Can you please pass this to him?”

Taeyong stumbles in the locker room after the hellish training, he grips on the metal bars tightly to support his body. He feels like his body is collapsing with his legs wobbling and his arms tired, without the power to hold anything in his command. The bright pink card that is clipped haphazardly on his jacket caught his attention, he stretched out his arm and he elicited a sharp gasp when he felt the sudden jolt of pain rising up to his shoulders. The contents of the card surprised him, your baby picture that’s his favorite and the neat calligraphy of a book passage that had his eyes damp with tears.

“So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s going to be really hard; we’re gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday-- Noah”

I have also read the Notebook and all I could say is I can’t stop thinking about you. Everything could be hard but I am more than willing to dive, to walk into a path full of thorns with you. I was really afraid to see you walk out of that door, and it came to my realization that I’d rather have you go away temporarily, to chase on your dream rather than losing you forever. Chase your dream and I’ll chase mine, and we’ll still find each other’s arms. I will support you always, rose. I love you so much. 

You find yourself in the boxing gym again, awkward as fuck. 

The rambunctious rambles of Taeyong’s teammates piques up his ears yet he doesn't pay attention to it because he knows it’s useless. He quietly wraps the white bandages around his wrist and his fingers. His muscles are still aching with the aftermath of the afternoon grilling yesterday but he needs to practice more despite everything fucking him up. 

Taiel shouts out, “Taeyong!”

He snaps, “What?!”

But the sight of your figure at the door deeply surprised him. You look like you’ve been contemplating for a good minute whether you should enter the gym or just cling out at the door. Ah, he knows. You hated talks and people so much and it shows.

It’s been days since you have last seen him, he’s still beautiful as ever. But you can see the dark shadow that casts underneath his eyes. There were lines here and there that could be caused by stress and fatigue. His jaw is much sharper than before. His eyes were unreadable, deep and smoldering.  

He hoists and climbs out of the ropes and out of the ring to approach you. You can see yourself eyeing his figure intently but you rest your gaze at his strong and unyielding stare down to those pretty lips.

He breathes, “Hey.”

It was just a faint call yet it feels like you’ve been floating around in cloud nine. You fidget against the wall and Taeyong notices. You wanted to tell him more, everything, yet you are confined in your very own space, with fear clogging out your throat. 

You settle with calling his name, your lips quivering, “Taeyong.”

Taeil immediately shushes the other boys that have plains on eavesdropping on the drama unfolding. The marches out towards the connected unit with exasperated groans leaving their lips. Now it’s just you and him again. With everything untouched and quiet. The space around you is basking into that awkward pace just like the first encounter. Your heart ricochets off against your chest that indicates a quiet plea that snaps you out of what you should do. Here goes nothing, you should talk it out to him. 

You try to divert your attention from the erratic beating of your heart to the boy who’s been looking at you with his dark eyes. 

He begins, “How is your summer class?”It took you off guard, “It’s fine.” 

You clear your throat and mumble the words, “I want to talk, please?”

He leans down with his brows furrowed together. “What? I didn’t get what you were trying to say…”

You sigh and yanked his tank top to plant a kiss on those rose colored lips of him. He misses your touch. He relaxes by the feeling of your touch. You were just enough to fill out the hole that has been empty throughout his heart. 

You whisper, “I’m really sorry for being afraid… for holding back… I don’t have something intimate going on with Doyoung I swear, he just leaned in to slap me out of my reverie… With his acts I was able to make sure that you were the only one that I will ever love…  I could never replace you with someone else because I love you so much… you are the only one that I will choose, forever.”

He closes his eyes and leans on your forehead. He was so afraid of losing you either. When he saw Doyoung that day, he really felt a sense of tugging in his heart. Fear that he couldn’t make up for all the things that he’d done. For leaving so soon. For leaving you. He misses you so much that he can’t find the energy to go on without you by his side.

He kisses you with all the power he could muster. With all earnestness. Peppering you with kisses, dusting every part of your face with all his might. He’s intoxicated with just your presence looming inside his systems. He leaves you breathless with every passionate kiss he leaves, leaving a trail of hotness that has been searing up into your body. You could almost feel that spark with just the ghost of his touch. This is what you want, with him  by your side. How content you feel with him and those yearning suddenly disappears.

Taeyong cups your face, holding you with such care as if you’re the most delicate glass. Fragile. He stares at your eyes, searching into yours deeply until he could see how beautiful they really are, that holds the entire galaxy with them, sparkling and deep.

You grab his hands carefully, kissing his bruised hands that are like those flowers that your mother grows. Delphinium, that is casting a glow of pale blue and violet. It must’ve pained him to still train with his hands scarred. 

He calls you out with the same old nickname for you that sends you to bits of fluttery. “Sweetheart... “ His voice is imbued with longing, his voice deep and soothing, contradicting yet lulling. “You don’t have to apologize. I will forgive you every time, because I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry for being like this, still trapped with the past…”

He shushes you with his finger. “Hey, let’s forget everything in the past and focus on what we have here in the present.”

You smile, “Present.”

Taeyong finds himself being lost for words yet he seizes this opportunity to hold you closer to his. He loves you dearly and admires your beauty. Your entirety. He loves you for being you. That is all about simplicity with your skin glowing, so it was your inner beauty that not only lit up your soft features but Taeyong’s eyes as well. When he sees you smile and laugh, he couldn't help but smile along too, even if it was just on the inside. To be in your company was to feel that he too was someone, that you had been warmed in summer rays regardless of the season.

“Stop staring.”

He laughs, “Why not? I miss you.”

“Your coach might scold me for interfering with your training.”

He rolls his eyes, “The match was cancelled, anyways. Let him be mad, I don’t care.”

You grin, “You’re impossible.”

He leans in again for a kiss. It’s not just a peck but one steeped in a passion that ignites. It is the promise of realness, of the primal desire that glows in your chest.

He kisses up and down your neck. You let out little whimpers of anticipation while he works his way back to your tender, smooth lips. 

He breathes out your name, “y/n…” caressing your face gingerly, brushing away those strands of hair away from your eyes, “Did you know I was really happy to see that letter from you?”

“Why?”

“Because you called me rose that you only did when you felt like it.”

You laugh at his confession, “Why?”

“I just felt happy that you finally addressed me by that name.”

You give him a smile while caressing his cheeks soothingly. His expression is a mixture of endearment and loving, with his smile that is so blinding with beauty.

He continues, “I could still remember that very last time you called me that and I thought I will never get those endearments from you. Rose is the name out of all that I can help but to smile whenever I hear someone say it.”

“It’s actually weird to call you that.”

“But it’s fucking unique and I will aways remember you whenever I hear the word rose.”

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you… You’re someone so kind and pure that brings up the beauty even in the smallest things and God… what will I ever do without you in my life?”

“We are always meant to be together even though Doyoung’s plan on bringing our paths together fails.”

You cross your brows, “How did you know that?”

He grins cheekily, “He told me.” That snitch. 

The conclusions are starting to form inside your head like whirlpools. You point out an accusatory finger towards him, your eyes wide, “So you know?”

He smirks and kisses you again. “Yes, but it just feels good to hear those words coming out of you.”

“You drama king!”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Out of seven billion, I will always choose you.”

Those words prompt another fond smile to play on your lips, one so tight it hurts your cheeks. 

You hear a roar, “Lee Taeyong! Back to the ring!”

You could see his manager fuming but when he sees your figure being concealed by Taeyong’s body he immediately scurries back and grunts out incoherent profanities. 

You snatch his top to lean for a peck then pushing him away, “Go, before you get grilled for--”

“For what? Being sexy?”

“You have an non-existent ass, Taeyong.”

He just smiles at your comeback. And he could just feel the air knocking out of his fucking chest. God, what is life if it wasn’t you with his side like this? He’s a lovefool, only for you.

He begins, “You know I hated books but…” his eyes are now soft and deep, earthy brown - the color of the earth after torrential rains. A smile tugging on the ends of his lips, “You are, and always have been, my dream.” 

You recognize those quotes from Nicholas Sparks. 

You smile too, “You are and will ever be the love of my life, Taeyong.”

SMUT (SKIP IF UNCOMFORTABLE)

You can still remember the first time that you felt extreme happiness, that is when you have been given the plush toy you have been dreaming off by your dad. That was memorable, then the second one that gave you light was Taeyong. He brings the extreme feeling of euphoria just by the ghosts of his lips. From the very start, you wanted to drown yourself with the boy who’s laced with elegance and sweetness that is Lee Taeyong. 

You didn’t know how Taeyong was able to spare himself out of his training sessions and his fuming coach. But what is important is that after he runs towards your direction, carelessly yanking out his bag, he reconnected his lips to yours, peppering your whole face down to marking your neck as his. You both don’t stop feeling each other until you are both forced out by Taeil. 

Taeyong’s vein is filled with adrenaline and the wild drive of lust. He carelessly drives down his apartment, skipping three traffic lights, at this moment he couldn’t bring himself to care about traffic rules, he wanted you the soon, the better. The both of you stumbles down the hallway, bodies waltzing while trying to fit in the door of his unit. 

His fingers were grazing your scalp slightly tugging on your locks to provide him more access to deepen the kiss. His other hand is roaming around you, exploring every bit of your curvature that you always hide. He grips on your hips hard then slammed you on the nearest wall he could find. Taeyong pushes his pelvis onto you, deeper while torturing you by biting down on your lower lip. You let out a quiet moan that urges him to do more, grinding against your pants that sends a surge of swirling sparks in your belly and wetness that pools between your thighs.

You’re his drug that drives him into madness. 

He couldn't contain himself any further as excitement pools inside his system, his eyes burning with desire with the sight of you caged between his arms. He gives you a look while he touches the hem of your shirt, silently asking for your approval. You nodded and it was enough for him to shake while trying to work out and remove you from the garment that covers your beauty. He inwardly let out a low groan upon the sight of your breast cupped perfectly by the lacy bra. 

Your faces immediately flush at his intense gaze, but he immediately leans in to plant a quick peck on your lips, smiling throughout. “You are perfect. God.”

He traces with his lithe fingers starting from your hands upward to your shoulders. You can almost see how he occasionally steals a glance at you with his hooded eyes. His gaze is so heavy and hungry as if you’re a pool of crystal water and he’s a man with an exorbitant thirst, that he cannot longer wait to devour you with all his might.  He proves his ardent hunger by cupping your cheeks and attacking your now swollen lips, then tilting your head slightly on the left to press his lips onto the delicate skin of your neck, his teeths grazing and biting down, leaving you angry red marks. He wasn’t feeling enough, he titles your head more, providing him more access to the sweet spot that is on the arch of your collarbones, sucking and marking until you are desperately crying for more. 

You let out an airy laugh, “Is this what you are planning along all this time?”

He answers you with a breathy answer, “Fuck, yes.” He towers over your figure while grinding more onto you, the friction making him bite down his moans and hard with every fraction of time passing by. “You’re the only one I plan on doing this with.”

 He pulls away and finally assists you while undressing. To him, you are the most perfect, with your skin glistening with sensual sweat. Taeyong’s eyes were drawn down to the red marks that caressed its way down to your neck, reaching to just below your collarbones. Taeyong always told himself that goddesses were real and he was sure that you’re one of them. You’re a masterpiece that he will always hold with such delicateness.

He pushes your figure down onto his silk sheets. You can feel the cold contact against your flushed skin while Taeyong hovers onto your figure attacking every part of you that his lips could. He sucks onto your neck until those marks turn with a deep chase of purple and blue. You buck your hips against him, firmly to feel him, until you could squeeze out a reaction from him.

Taeyong groans slowly which pushes you more to roll your hips against him. The instinctive reaction of Taeyong was to bite down on your neck a little more harder which earns a sharp gasp from you. There is a rising flame bubbling inside of your abdomen. Two amorous lovers binded by love and lust. He gives out a quick yet quiet apology while returning into his business on marking every spot he sees no shade of lilac or blue. You try to grind onto him shamelessly, again, teasing to test out his patience, yet he already has his hands holding you down to place with his nails digging deep into your hips. You could almost feel his raging boner resting against the flesh of your inner thighs, throbbing. 

Swatting away his grip, you immediately sit up to undress him up. Your hands run along his skin, clever, skilled, determined as you stripped off the tank top that clings onto his wrists. The flash of passion, the fury of need that darkens your eyes with a sense of decadent power as the man you really love is sitting before you, almost as naked as you. 

In mindless, liberated pleasure, you shove out his gym shorts. 

Taeyong’s eyes glimmered in the weak light of his room, as he forced the gym shorts out of him and flung it aside. “You’re driving me insane.”

“I could say that too.”

His mouth begins feasting onto your flesh again, his greedy hands racing over your quivering body in ruthless exploration that got you breathless. Heat pumps throughout your veins; feeling soft and warm, melting into Taeyong’s touch, like one's body. 

You let out a gasp when you feel Taeyong’s palm cupping your breasts. His other sinful fingers move against your surging wet heat, relentlessly driving you up to insanity, the need to release is clawing viciously inside your body. Your pussy throbbing with his fingers encircling with your clit in a torturous manner. 

Taeyong breathes, “Look at me,” when he sees your eyes fluttering shut. “It’s just you and me. Just us, like always.”

“Always.” The shadows dance around the both of you. Shifting while both of your fingers stroked. The sensation builds after the other, your body trembles, shuddering layers, then it halts when he suddenly withdraws himself letting you on the edge of frustration and want. 

“Fuck, Taeyong!”

“God, I can eat you out, alive.”

You breathe, “I could… let you.”

With the expert flick of his hands, he had your pants tugged down along with your panties with a low grunt. Your eyes both lock in a brief second, all smoldering and swimming with intense lust. He clicks his tongue while playfully flicking off your bra.

His hands, as you could note, are kinda calloused, rubbing at your inner thighs and then spreads them widely while exploring a bit of your body. The power of his caress is influenced by boxing that is tantalizing and arousing, his fingertips pressing onto the delicate part of your skin, wandering underneath to give you behind a gentle yet strong cup.

He leans in again to leave out open mouthed kisses on your bare chest. The air around thickens, your breath snagged in your lungs. Your back arches as he takes your breast in his mouth, sucking, teeth scraping erotically over your aching nipple. Then, trailing down to your inner thighs to leave small kisses here and there, then he’ll suck. You writhe against the small exquisite pain, sobbing his name, the wet pulse between your legs is pounding with intense need. 

Taeyong dips his head in between your legs, licking the hot, slick, and thick liquid that is dripping from your folds. You immediately let out a moan. He holds you in place, while he relishes on your juices while you suffer at his doings. The vibration whenever he let out a satisfied groan leaves out a tingling sensation to your clit. His tongue finally reaches out to encircle you wanting clit. Waves of ecstasy washes over you, crying out loud at the feeling of sharp sensation of pleasure flowing right at your veins. You try to reach out to anything your hands could get, grip on. You settle for his titanium hair. 

“You’re so sweet.”

Whenever he speaks it grazes slightly on the nubs of your walls, which made you arch your back in pleasure. He continues on licking your juices, until he slides a digit in taking you completely by surprise. With his long, slender fingers inside you, the feeling is exceptional, delirious. 

He slides his finger in, your folds welcoming him as it grazes and envelops every time he slides another finger. His thumb continues on playing with your clit which his fingers fucks you, knuckle deep without mercy. You immediately cry out in pleasure. 

He pumps in a fast pace that has your legs trembling. Your sex is throbbing at his merciless pounding while reaching out to poke out your sweet spots, clenching around his fingers and soaking with your juices. You can feel yourself coming again, as he quicken his pace, you bite down on your lips to ride out the pleasure you are feeling. His thumb busy with your clit and his fingers pumping in and out of you. 

“I’m coming. F-fuck, Taeyong. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“You like that huh?”

“God, y-yes.”

You can feel the hot liquid dripping between your legs. God, your core is still throbbing at the aftermath of his finger fucking, and you still want more. 

“Fuck me Taeyong. F-fuck me hard.”

He immediately scrambles to his feet upon your request. Removing his boxers, you could see his dick, with a searing red tip oozing with precum. You are really aroused at the sight of him wrapping his hands around his dick, giving it quick strokes. 

“Open for me, sweetheart.”

You did as he mounted you, crushing his mouth into yours as he thrust his dick into you. A sob of pure and overwhelming pleasure eases up your throat. Your walls stretch with him inside. He eases himself, pushing his dick to the extent of your hot walls. Arching, you brought him deeper inside. Your hips move in desperate, greedy time, urging him on. 

In that fleeting moment before you both plunged into the roaring darkness, you understood that there will be no room for another man in your mind, in your soul, in your heart. It will always be him, Lee Taeyong. 

Taeyong reaches out to stroke a palm down your exquisite curves and hollows that drives him mad all night and day while he reaches his point. You take him well, with him cumming inside you. Both of your breathing are ragged. The weak light illuminating from Taeyong’s lampshade cast your silhouettes. When he leans to press a quick kiss on your lips, two grey shadows molded into one. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

hello, this eaten all the left energy in my body so i hope you guys love this one! :D

[scandeniall]

falling in love | atsumu m.

pairing: atsumu x reader

warnings: few curse words. Yk the usual; aged up/post time skip

alternatively; what its like falling and being in love with atsumu

thank u all for the thoughts on the sakusa version. figured i’d give another boy a try and am considering making this a series 

Falling in love with Atsumu feels like being on a roller coaster. There are so many ups and downs but you never want to get off. Falling in love with him requires time but once you do its the most amazing thing in the world. 

Its meeting at Onigiri Miya after he’s had a long and rough day at practice and you two order the same meal. The order is called off and in a haze of exhaustion he thinks its his grabbing the bag almost immediately bumping into you and dropping the bag. Hes so so tired and so so hungry that he nearly tears up before mumbling a series of expletives, not even processing any of the spew of apologies you shoot at him. Even worse when he finds out it wasn’t even his order he dropped, because so much for a free meal. He’s in shock when you decline him buying you a new one because he “looks ready to drop dead at any moment.” He barely processes the way Osamu comes out both annoyed at the mess and amused at his frozen twin before telling you a replacement was on the house and forcing Atsumu to go nap in the back for a little because driving home. 

Its how after that night, he’d started seeing you more and more at the shop, very brief conversations here and there leading up to him asking for your number since “ya seem to come here as much as me.” At some point he found out that its because its your roommate’s favorite spot and picking up dinner is on your way home (not that you've ever mentioned that you’d gotten to enjoy the view of both the cook and his brother.)

Its the friendship you develop with his twin and fit right in with their friends. In some whirlwind of conversation you expressed concern for him (as a stranger) to where his brother said it wasn’t unusual for him to come in, half dead, eat and sleep off some of his exhaustion before heading home. It wasn’t all the time, but often enough. However, accidentally stealing someone else's food was a new one for him. You jokingly called Atsumu sleeping beauty, which was the start of it. The two of you frequently teamed up against the twin, to tease at him and no matter how much Atsumu claimed to hate it and he wishes you two despised each other, he cant hide the smile that tugs at him. 

Its the moments like the one when you met where you end up picking him from practice, catching a ride to the gym because he's so so tired and wants nothing more than to stuff his face and sleep for days. Just months into your friendship he’s trusting you with his car, because you seem that dependable. The praises of you being a good friend as his hand lingers against yours after passing the keys over to you. The way he looks slumped against the cars window has something stirring inside of you. You take a picture for blackmail later and to reinforce how much better he is when hes not talking. 

Its how he sits on your couch eating all your snacks while he shit talks all the guys that appear on your tinder. Calls some of them jobless losers, and its the frist time he admits that he thinks you're hot. “Yer too hot for that guy”, while swiping left on all of them (even the ones you would’ve gone right for.) The way you retort confirming that he thinks you’re hot has him speechless and stuttering, insisting that he didnt mean it like that, yet can’t explain how he meant it. 

The times you bicker and he suddenly becomes the worst friend you have. The time you two had stopped talking for like a month, mad over something you’d forgotten a week later. Yet, all you knew is that you were supposed to be mad. He could “go to hell” and you were “so fucking annoying.” Over the course of your friendship he’d made it a habit of taking things from you; your favorite mug because he still had a drink in it when it was time for him to go. Your fuzzy socks that he’d claimed during a movie night, because your apartment was way too cold. The spare reusable bottle because he forgot his and was already on his way to the gym. You’d resorted to trying to slowly get your stuff through Osamu, but by week 3 he’d grown tired of it. He promised you both a free meal if you came and helped him close up one night, before forcing you two to talk it out. Within five minutes the two of you are laughing. 

Your first date had been one by accident of some sorts. You’d been walking around a shopping center at night and he’d caught view of a new ice cream shop. It was his cheat weekend and he suggested stopping. His treat. Some time in between you going home he’d teased that it felt like a date. You both were hit with a oh shit kind of moment because it was true. Throughout the night your hands had brushed several times, and you’d both even let the other use your spoon to taste your different ice cream flavors. 

Atsumu’s feelings came relatively easy. He thought you were kind, funny, interesting, and of course attractive. You had a way of leaving him speechless with your quick and witty comeback, and it was refreshing. It’d been something he hadn’t seen much since his high school days with Aran. However he’d denied the feelings for the longest, swearing to himself that he’d never have a crush on you. You were just one of the bros, but better.But, after that first date its like the feelings just flooded out. It’d ended with you hinting that you’d be interested in going on another one, “perhaps a real one this time,” and he just nodded. 

There weren’t many dates before the two of you dived into your relationship. Afterall, you’d been friends for over a year and if he’d thought you were annoying he wouldve “been gotten rid of you.” His first act of the two of you becoming a couple, was a cute picture for his new wallpaper. It’d been a hassle to get because with every picture, one of you had a problem. The first time his roots were peaking through too much and he fussed at you for not telling him he needed a touch up. Then the one he liked you were blinking, and hed insisted you looked good anyways (or that he did). He’d recounted a time where he didn’t care about making memories, but it was different now. They made him who he was, and wanted to keep the memories of your growth. 

Its the nights before games that he spends with you doing self care (an act he used to pretend like he only did because you wanted to, before just begrudgingly admitting that he liked it too.) You’d gone to look for a specific face mask, before he admitted that he stole it and forgot to bring it back (when really he used it all up and was just waiting for you to buy another one so he could take that one too). When you rolled your eyes at him, he’d just brush it off a promise of returning it before opening his arms for you to return to your cuddle position. You were supposed to be watching a movie, but he’d pulled up old games of his future opponents and kept showing you interesting plays. One hand holding the phone, the other unconsciously rubbing circles onto your back. He asks if you’re paying attention to him and you admit that you aren’t at all and he sighs in over dramatic disappointment before locking the phone and focusing on you.  

Its the argument that almost led to your breakup that happened due to a miscommunication. You’d been out with friends, Atsumu already trying and failing to coax you into staying the night with him instead. All it had taken was a picture taken completely out of context for him to feel hurt. He really really liked you (borderline was ready to admit loving you)!and thought you’d at least felt a fraction of the same emotion towards him. That night he hadn’t thought through anything before sending the picture (snapped on who knows who’s phone) to you with a simple ‘I see how it is’. What made it even worse is that you hadn’t seen the picture right away. 

It’s how your heart dropped later that night when you were finally ready to head back to his, and your heart ached at how you called him several times only to be sent straight to voicemail. Your attempt at reaching his twin was lucky as he hadn’t even told him about what he thought had happened yet. Another strike of luck when Osamu believed you and ensured that this was a case of his brother acting first and thinking later. 

The makeup had been one both of relief and realization that the two of you needed to talk. It’s when you found out that he was in love with you and that he really did love hard. Just like with volleyball, he wasn’t sure what kind of dumb shit he’d be getting into if you weren’t there. Having to sit through the conversation was uncomfortable for him as he was often the one doing the scolding to others. However the difference was that you admitted that you could’ve handled it better as well (something he doesn’t do when he’s complaining about others).

Its the nights where he hits you up at 2am already outside begging you to just take a late night drive with you. He knows you can’t tell him no so he’s offering a smirk pushing the door open as you sleepily make your way in. His eyes soften at how cute you look (he’s definitely known to slip up and talk in a baby voice like this and yes you’ve blackmailed that ass when he annoys you). You tell him that you look like shit at the moment and he agrees before backtracking and still saying you look good. 

You end up at some late night drive through arguing about fries because “ya didn’t even wanna come out in the first place” and you both don’t need them. You could just share. The workers in the drive through literally have to tell y’all to hurry up to where he just glared at the faceless menu. You have to end up shouting over him the order that he still ends up complaining about. Even though you end up with the two different orders he eats all yours and every time you try and swat his hand away he exclaims that he bought them. 

Those nights you wake up pretty easily because he lowers the windows and turns up his throwbacks playlist pretty loud and sings terribly and just looks so happy. Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney comes on and he loves grabbing your hand at it while singing along. Those moments are a different kind of joy from when he’s playing volleyball. He’s not focused on a win or his team and how to celebrate. He’s living in the moment, happy and carefree and with his favorite person.

a/n: um yeah cant lie I do like the sakusa version better but here we go. another middle of the night ramble. 

[buckys-black-dress]

a fine line, part three

a/n: okay. here we go. part three bitches. tbh i write these author’s notes before i start writing, which is why i also have one at the end of the chapter-- so idrk how many more parts this baby’s gonna have. also, tumblr fucked up and ate my first draft, so fuck you tumblr. but here we go! enjoy, again, thank you for reading/sharing/commenting/reblogging whatever etc etc. i love you all! <3 -ali

wc: 2.5k

-

You truly think that you’re going to throw up. 

You haven’t moved out of your apartment since you came back from James’ apartment. 

Your phone has been non-stop vibrating since you got off your phone call with Natasha, and she’s the only one you’ve kept updated on the situation. You told her she could... vaguely explain to Wanda and Carol what happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave your apartment. 

You were a mess, to say the least.

Natasha had tried to come by to see if you were alright, but you couldn’t let her in. You were embarrassed. James kissed you, and he made you look like a fool. He thought he could make things better by kissing you, but every time you remembered what his lips felt like on yours, all you could feel was humiliation.

Did he think you were that easy? That if he kissed you and slept with you, that it would erase your past with him? 

You didn’t know what to think, and it was eating you alive.

You usually knew. You knew how to think rationally, to think things through, and to make the right decision.

But now, you felt like you knew nothing.

And now, you have to show up to class next week and teach alongside the man who made you look like a joke. 

-

On the other hand, James was quite literally losing his shit. 

He felt like an idiot.

After he kissed you, he realized two things.

One, he was idiot.

And two, he liked you. A lot.

Well, it was more or less Steve that led him to both conclusions, but hey, he got there.

When he called Steve after you quite literally fled his apartment, he realized just how fucking stupid what he did was.

“Buck, you gotta see this from her perspective. For a year, you ridiculed her every chance you got, and all of a sudden you spring all this shit on her that you didn’t mean it, etcetera etcetera. And then you kiss her. She’s quiet, shy. I don’t talk to her about personal things much, but Nat knows. She trusts her, and she tells her about everything she’s been through. A week ago, she thought you hated her. You just humiliated her and made it look like she was easy, someone you could kiss and fuck and move past your history with her.” Steve spoke through the phone to his friend.

After listening to everything that Bucky said, Steve couldn’t understand just how stupid his friend was.

“I- I never meant for it to be like that. I do like her, a lot. And I feel like such an idiot for what I did before. She- After watching her sit in my house, after seeing her with Alpine, I just... I realized just how fucking wrong I was... And now she’s never gonna talk to me again.” Bucky realizes, and it hits him like a ton of bricks.

“Okay, you’re being dramatic, Buck. You guys still have to teach together next week. You just need to find a way to straighten things out with her by then, or else someone’s gonna report back to Fury that you two aren’t doing what you’re supposed to. And we all know that you don’t wanna be in trouble with him.” Steve continues to explain. 

‘You’re right... But how do I even reach out to her? She’s not gonna answer a text or phone call, but I don’t think she would appreciate me just showing up where she lives... And I don’t even know where she lives.” He tells him, trying to think of any way to reach you. 

“Well... I don’t how much I can help you from here. Just... be careful, Buck. Don’t end up doing more harm than good. Okay?” Steve carefully warns him.

“Yeah, I know, Steve.” Bucky tells him. “I gotta go, I’ll talk later man.” He concludes, promptly ending the call.

-

It’s Saturday, and Bucky’s panicking.

Why, you may ask? 

Well, other than the fact that he made a dumpster fire out of his relationship with you, he singlehandedly made all of your friends who were staff at Avengers University hate him.

He’s spent the morning calling Natasha, who promptly picked up and hung up right after. Then Wanda, who didn’t even bother answering. Finally, Carol. Carol didn’t really give away much, but she did want to help. 

Carol didn’t tell him which apartment you lived in.

But she did tell him what building you lived in.

“And why should I help you, Barnes?” Carol asked, well on her way to her meeting. 

Bucky was running to catch up with her, clearly walking faster to avoid him.

“I- Listen, just, give me something. Natasha and Wanda ‘ve been avoiding me, and I know they’re not gonna help. I-I’m desperate.” Bucky practically begs, and Carol can’t say she’s not shocked.

“Well... how far are you willing to go?” She stops her walking and asks. 

“I-I’ll do anything. Please, Danvers. I’ll buy you coffee for a week. Y-You can have my parking spot! Anything!” Bucky was ready to get on his knees if he needed to.

And that’s exactly what Carol wanted to see. 

“Hmm... I don’t know... How do I know you’re actually sorry for what you’ve done?” She questions, nose in the air. 

“Carol, I know I fucked up, alright? Steve and Sam can barely even look at me, Natasha and Wanda are ready to rip my head off on sight, and plus...” he paused, trying to lift the weight off his chest, “...plus, Y/N means a lot to me. And I know I acted like a goddamn idiot before, but it’s different now. I... I like her, a lot, and I never meant to hurt her. I... I need her to understand that.” Bucky was out of breath from his rant, and Carol squinted her eyes at him.

“I’m giving you one thing. You have to figure it out from there. Or else Y/N, Nat and Wanda would kill me.” The blonde says after a moment of silence. “She lives in the Livingston Towers. That’s all you get. I’m late to my meeting, bye.” She says, flipping her hair while strutting away. 

Now, it’s Saturday morning and Bucky’s at the lobby of your building. Although it’s definitely not half as lavish as his own, it was still lovely. Warm, cozy. The man sitting at the desk watches him as he approaches his small desk, and Bucky looks pale as a ghost. 

“H-Hi, I’m looking for someone who lives here?” He asks more than he says, making the man even more weary of him.

“Does this person know you’re coming to see them?” The young man asks dismissively.

“No, but uh, I was hoping I could see them anyways? I just need to know what apartment they’re in if you don’t mind-” Bucky speaks but is cut off short by the young man with the name tag that reads “Adam.”

“Listen, man, you’re not the first shmuck to show up here, begging me to let them up to see their ex that they ‘need to make it up to.’ If she’s not answering her phone when you call, maybe that’s a sign you need to let that shit go, dude.” Adam tells him, looking at his phone screen.

“Hey, kid, listen. She’s not my girlfriend, but I do need to make it up to her. I fucked up, but we’re colleagues, and we have a project that we’re supposed to work on starting tomorrow, but I don’t think she’s gonna show. I-I just... I need to see her. Please.” Bucky’s about to get on the ground, but instead another idea pops into his head.

Just as Adam’s about to dismiss him again, Bucky pulls out his wallet.

He pulls out a crisp $20 bill, slipping is across the counter. 

“Please?” Bucky’s voice is hanging on by a thread. 

“Fine, man, this girl better be worth it, I could lose my job-” 

“Yeah, yeah, get on with it. Her name’s Y/N Y/L/N.” Bucky says, waiting for the boy to type in the name.

“She’s in 10C. Good luck, bro.” He says, sitting back lazily in his spinning chair.

“Thanks,” Bucky can barely say before he clicks the button to call the elevator, hopping in and pressing on the 10 button.

He finds your place with quick ease, but he stands there for a few seconds, pondering. If he knocks, will you even answer? If you know that it’s him, will you open the door? What if you’re out, what if you went to grab coffee or something for Lucy? What if- 

And before he could think even further, the door swings wide open, shocking Bucky. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Your voice was hoarse, like you hadn’t used it in days. 

You looked... horrible, to say the least. But James was glad he was even looking at you right now. 

“I-I we need to talk. Please.” He says, hoping you’ll hear him out.” Just give me five minutes. I’ll leave after that.” He pleads.

Wordlessly, you walk away from the door, leaving him just standing in your doorframe. He assumes this means you’re agreeing to the five minutes.

“Well?” You say, sitting back down on your couch, waiting for James to plead his case.

“L-Listen. I... I can’t even begin to explain to you how fucking sorry I am. I’m a complete idiot for thinking that kissing you was going to fix everything between us, for making you feel like I was trying to embarrass you by kissing you. I just- in the moment I thought it could’ve been the right thing to do, but after it happened I realized just how dumb I was to think that. And you have every right to be upset with me. Also... we still have to do our lessons together starting tomorrow, and I just wanted to know that we could still work together.” 

You sat in silence, petting Lucy who was curled up into your side. You held a mug of coffee in your hand, watching James intently. 

“Also, how did you know I was here?” He asks, brows furrowed.

You snort at the question, shifting in place. 

“Adam called me to warn me that a very persistent man was coming up, and that if I needed to escape to go out the fire escape or the storage closet and hide.” You say, giving no indication as to how you were feeling.

“He may be easily swayed, but he’s not a complete idiot. But you... you are a complete idiot.” You tell him.

Bucky’s chest tightens in an uncomfortable way, in a way that makes him want to throw up his breakfast.

“Did you just come here to see if I was still going to work with you?” You ask, waiting to see what he’ll say.

“Well, that wasn’t the whole reason. I needed to know that you were alright. I hurt you, and I understand that. I also don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I know I fucked up. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it right away. And I’m even more sorry for making you feel like you weren’t enough this past year. I guess... 

I guess it was just my way, albeit childish, of coping with my feelings for you. When I first met you, I thought you were so beautiful, and I wanted to get to know you. But you were so quiet, and I just thought that was you rejecting me... So, I’m sorry. For everything Y/N.” James concludes. He stands up, moving towards your front door. 

“James, wait.” Your meek voice rumbled out as you stood up.

“You... you did embarrass me. Borderline humiliated. You shouldn’t have acted that way with me, I’m worth more than that kind of behavior. That being said, I appreciate you coming here to try and work things through. I... I was so hurt. You hurt me so bad, James.” He opens his mouth to apologize yet again, but you shake your head, continuing. 

“I liked you too. When I first met you, I thought you were so attractive. Intelligent, handsome, friendly. But then you started acting so... so different around me. I- I didn’t know what I’d done to make you so angry with me, enough to tear me down every chance you got. I was new, lost, fresh meat. But when you started saying those things, I was reconsidering my contract with AU. I appreciate the apology, but I’m going to need some time to process... whatever this is. Of course I’ll still do the lessons, but that doesn’t mean we’re buddy-buddy now, okay?” You finish. 

He’s looking at you. It’s like there’s something more you want to say.

“I just... I- how do I know you’re for real? With all this, I mean. How do I know you’re really sorry?” You ask, finally letting it out, your voice crackling.

“Y/N... How about this; this week, while we teach together, let me make it up to you. Let me show you just how sorry I am, that I’ve really changed. Please, let me make it up to you.” Now, he’s literally on his knees in front of you. 

Lo and behold, James Barnes. In front of you, on his knees. On the floor of your apartment. 

“James, get up, please.” He promptly stands back up. “You have one week. One week to show me you’ve really changed, that you really mean what you’ve just told me. That’s all you get.” You tell him, staring at him.

“Okay. One week. I’m not gonna let you down, Y/N. I promise. You’re gonna see how sorry I am, I swear.” James says, slowly making his way out.

“Okay. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Barnes.” You say, holding the door, ready to shut it.

“Here I was, thinking we were on a first name basis.” He jokes, already outside.

“Watch it, Barnes.” You put extra emphasis on his last name, shutting the door as he steps into the elevator.

As you turn back into your house, you look at Lucy, who’s watching you with big eyes.

“What the hell is he gonna do, Luce?” You ask, plopping back down onto your couch and mindlessly turning on the TV again. 

You couldn’t even pay attention to it, just thinking of what this week will bring.

-

a/n: ooookaayyyy hey yall! end of chapter check!! sorry this one was short, this week has been literally kicking my ass. i had 6 labs due for my anatomy class today. anywayssss.... what do we think bucky’s gonna conjure up for this week? lmk in the comments what you think !!! kk, love you, bye!

[thisisawonderfulusername]

let’s save the world

season two, episode five

five hargreeves x reader

summary: gathering the family together never ends well, but at least you can relax with a few of the siblings.

trigger warnings: cursing, drinking

word count: 5k

a/n: it took me literal years to find a gif for this one. not even kidding. i ended up settling. i am also sorry about how long this took to come out, i was very busy with school and some other health stuffs😂 anywho i hope you enjoy it

you all watch as reginald’s car gets farther away, and you sigh softly. it’s the eyeball all over again. time to chase after it before it bursts into flames before your eyes.

“you know, i’m starting to get the impression that dad’s avoiding us.” you look to five, away from all the people that filed out of the consulate.

“what gave you that idea?” you chuckle quietly, shaking your head as you look down at the dress you wore, and hated. you couldn’t wait to get it off, but you frown as you notice the missing piece. “i lost my bow to choke that guy, and it didn’t even work.”

scratching the back of her neck, lila glances to the three of you. “i hate to be the boring one, guys, but we need to get the hell out of here.”

as she moves to leave, you getting ready to follow, five steps in front of you to look at the woman with narrowed eyes. “when you mean ‘we’, who exactly are you referring to?”

your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you look at the boy, and lila seems just as confused, shifting her gaze to the side for a moment. “not a lot of ambiguity in that sentence.”

five doesn’t back down- by now you’re used to that. “listen, i don’t know who you are or where you came from, but i’d advise you return posthaste.”

diego leans towards him, “five, she’s right, we have to get out of here.”

“i just saved your life, you kinder shit!” lila spits out, “if i hadn’t stepped in, all that would be left of you is a blazer and some bloody socks.”

looking to the side as you chew on your lip, you felt quite ready to leave right about now. the dress was starting to feel a little too tight, enhancing the pain you felt from the hits you had taken.

“that’s the problem.” five points out, “you’re too good, you ask too many questions. you know too much. and you fight like you know what you’re doing.”

looking back to the small group, you think about what he had said, and it was starting to make sense. “he’s got a point.” you mutter, looking at the girl with a raised eyebrow, almost asking for an explanation.

“so i know how to handle myself, and that makes me the bad guy?”

you wanted to believe she was a good person, the ‘crazy lady’ who you had met in the car who just seemed to be tagging along- but she was starting to seem more suspicious the more you hung around her.

“whoever you are, you’re in my way.” five tells her, “if i see you again, i will kill you.”

he starts to walk away, and for a moment, you’re planted in your spot, staring at his retreating form. quickly shaking your head, you leave the other two behind, catching up to him.

-

when you got back to elliott’s, you had crashed on the couch after changing back out of the dress, and as you did, you had seen that one of the punches you took left quite a gash in your side, and you assumed the only reason you hadn’t noticed it before then was because of the blood that had clotted and dried around it, or maybe the adrenaline from such a fight.

either way, it didn’t matter. you were use to getting injured by now, it was a part of working for the commission and now, apparently, it’s a part of saving the world. you simply cleaned it, put some bandaging over it, and called it a day.

now, you sat on the same rolling chair that you always claimed in the door frame to the kitchen, leaning your head against the wall as you watch luther- who had finally decided he was ready to help, apparently- made some scrambled eggs. the mug that you held, filled as much as possible with coffee, was still scalding hot, but that didn’t stop you from taking the smallest sips every so often.

diego paced the kitchen floor, “no, no, no. i don’t understand. they keep following me.”

luther doesn’t even look up from the pan, which was basically overflowing with the eggs. “who?” he questions, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“those dutch sociopaths!”

“they’re swedish, you idiot.” five corrects him, leaning against the wall across from you, “hired guns paid to eradicate us before we can do any more damage to this timeline.”

“yeah, but why now?” diego raises an eyebrow at the boy, “i mean, i’m-” he snaps his fingers, “-fine. for three months until you showed up.”

luther nods slightly, “yeah.” he finally looks away from the eggs, “i was here for a year and no one messed with me.”

looking back to you two, diego holds his arms out, looking for an explanation. rolling your eyes, you stand up, kicking the chair away from you and into the living room. “so you’re saying it’s our fault, hm?” you raise an eyebrow at them, “even if it was, and it’s not, it doesn’t change the fact that we only have six days left before the end of the world.”

nodding, five glances at you for a second. “the closest anyone’s gotten to dad was that driveway, at the consulate.”

as his stirring slows, luther looks up. “well, that’s not exactly true.”

your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you watch as five steps closer to him. “what do you mean?”

“i saw him.”

you listen as he recounts the time he landed in the alley, when he got on a bus and went straight home- to the umbrella academy. when he arrived, there was some sort of house party going on, as people filled the building, all chatting and drinking champagne.

reginald stood with a circle of people- coincidentally talking about the end of the world and the uncertainties with time. when he walked away to get another glass was when luther stepped in, and was brushed off and humiliated in front of all the guests.

“that’s pathetic.” you all watch as the man scarfs down the eggs he had made, diego being the first to speak when he finished his story.

luther looks to him as he shovels more eggs onto his fork, “yeah, well, at least he didn’t shank my ass.”

“no, bro.” diego leans forward slightly, “he shanked your heart.”

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you at the comment, and five looks between the two of them as luther hums in acknowledgement.

elliott enters the kitchen, looking to the large man. “is that my bath robe?”

luther looks to him, his mouth full and his eyes wide as if someone caught him sticking his hand in the cookie jar. “no.”

“look, who cares what he shanked?” five finally speaks from beside you, moving to the more important business. “he knows something about time travel.”

raising his hand slightly, elliott looks to him, “uh, why don’t you just do your thing and, uh, time travel us out.”

with a sigh, five stands up to refill his mug, and you quickly hold out your own in a silent request. “anyone care to explain?” he questions as he takes the cup, walking over to the counter and grabbing the coffee pot.

“first time he tried, he got lost in the apocalypse.” luther states.

diego is next, “second time, he ended up without hair on his balls.”

chuckling quietly, you finish, “this time he scattered us all across the timeline here- in dallas, texas, also possibly triggering a doomsday.”

five turns as he finishes refilling the mugs, looking to the man. “any more questions, elliott?”

he quickly shakes his head, and diego starts to speak again. “guys, you’re all missing the big picture here. dad is the ringleader of a sinister cabal that’s planning to kill the president.”

you take your mug back with a quiet thank you as five hands it over, and luther looks to luther with confusion written all over his face. “a cabal?”

“ignore him.” five tells him, leaning against the counter, “look, the way i see it, we only have one option.”

without looking away from his eggs, luther raises the question everyone has. “oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“it’s time to get the umbrella academy back together.”

oh god

you’re not sure if you can handle them all at once again.

diego looks at the ground for a second. “hell yeah. family meeting.”

“okay, then can one of you guys get allison?” you look to luther as he stares down at his plate, suddenly incredibly invested in his eggs.

raising an eyebrow, you take a sip of your coffee. “are you two still... uh, canoodling?”

the man doesn’t answer, only tilting his head to the side a bit. diego slowly leans towards him, “do we need to talk?”

“no, she’s married.” luther speaks through his mouth full of eggs, and you scrunch your nose up slightly.

diego nods slightly, “dude, that’s rough.” he leans back into the back of his chair.

luther forces a chuckle, “i can handle it.” the expression on his face only a second later, as you honestly think he’s close to crying his eyes out.

“i’ll get her.” five sets his mug down, and you watch as he walks towards the archway into the living space. “do you think you can get vanya without, uh, squeezing her to death?”

luther looks at him with a deadpan expression from the comment. “i’ll try.”

“good.” he looks to you, “you should go with. just to, you know, supervise.” you nod with a light laugh, though luther doesn’t look nearly as amused as you are from the light jab at him. a second later, five is gone with a flash of blue.

you down the rest of your coffee as elliott stutters for a moment. “uh, what should i do?”

with a small smirk on his face, diego looks towards him. “prepare for company.”

-

“y’all know, jell-o used to be a delicacy.”

you sit in the living room of the apartment after you had managed to get vanya, along with her, luther, and diego, as elliott goes on about the disgusting concoction in front of him.

“in order to make it, you have to boil down a whole mess of hooves... you know, horses, cows, pigs, it doesn’t matter.” fire begins to dance across your fingertips as you stare at it in boredom, your lips pressed into a thin line. “but not everybody has a bunch of hooves lyin’ around. it wasn’t until, uh, a couple of sassy new yorkers figured out how to dry it out for the rest of us to use to... enjoy this ambrosia.”

diego looks to him after sticking all his knives in a little sheath, clearly as bored and annoyed as the rest of you. “if we have some, will you shut up?”

your nose scrunches up at the thought of having to eat that... sludge, and the fire immediately dies out. “maybe.” he quickly grabs one of the bowls around the table, beginning to distribute the thing he called food.

“i’m good.” you mumble, waving your hand as he looks to you, clearly disappointed from your refusal, but you could handle that. there was no way you were going to eat whatever that was.

luther’s face is scrunched up as he watches the man scoop up the ambrosia, deciding to look away and to vanya instead. “how are you feeling?”

the woman, who was slouched into the couch with her hands resting on her stomach, glances towards him. “pretty shitty, to be honest.”

flipping one of his knives in his hand, diego looks to her. “how would you say you are on a scale from one to... ending all life on this planet?”

sighing heavily, you lean forward and rest your elbows on your knees, ignoring the searing pain in your side. “seriously? put the knife away, idiot, she’s fine.”

his gaze doesn’t move from her. “the last time i saw this one, she had me suspended midair, sucking the life out of me with energy tentacles.” he stops flipping the knife to point it towards you, “i think i’m allowed a little time to process.”

“i would love to see an energy tentacle.” elliott looks up from his creation, looking between the three of you.

shaking your head, you sigh. “no you don’t.”

vanya sits up, looking to the man. “i don’t remember what i did, but i’m sorry.” she shrugs slightly, “if that means anything.”

he looks to her for a moment before he finally stops pointing the knife around, instead holding it at his side on the armrest. “it does.” that surprised you, but at least you wouldn’t have to stand around for another family argument. “just going through a lot right now.”

beginning to speak about ‘a girl he likes’, you roll your eyes. before he’s able to speak too much, the bell on the door downstairs jingles and you can hear laughter- allison and klaus.

“anyone here?” she calls out, and you stand from your seat, as does everyone else, going to stand at the railing of the balcony.

you can tell that the two of them are at least a little drunk from the amount of giggling from the two of them. they stop to look up at the five of you, and klaus takes his glasses off. “i know this is impossible, but did we all get... sexier?”

rolling your eyes, you watch as everybody else goes down to have a heartwarming family reunion, allison and vanya hugging before klaus joins in.

“alright, let’s get down to business.” five turns and goes up the stairs, everyone else following. as they come up, you take your seat once again, all of them taking their own places around the room.

standing in front of all of you, five sticks his hands in his pockets. “first thing i want to say is i’m sorry. i know i really screwed the pooch on this whole going back in time and getting stuck thing.” diego nods slightly, and you prop your feet up on the coffee table, nudging the empty bowl out of the way. “but the real kick in the pants here is, we brought the end of the world back here with us.”

“oh my god, again?” everyone looks to klaus in silence. “all of you knew? why am i always the last to find out about the end of the- oh my god, my cult is going to be so pissed, five! i told them we had until twenty-nineteen!” he whines.

you sigh softly as you run a hand down your face, “well, better inform them it’s coming sooner than that. we have six days.”

“is it vanya?” he takes a sip from his drink, and allison scoffs, “what? it’s always vanya.”

deciding to ignore it, vanya looks to five and you turn back in your seat, shaking your head. “do you have any leads, five?” the woman questions, and diego is already handing him the file that holds the picture of their father in the knoll.

“yeah, we have one.” five tells them, passing the folder over to allison, who doesn’t waste time in opening it up.

“holy shit, is that dad?” she looks at it in disbelief, and vanya quickly leans toward her to examine the photo as well.

after a moment, five continues to explain. “we’ve been trying to talk to him about what exactly this means, so far we’ve got nothing.”

“not nothing,” diego quickly adds, “we know that he’s planning to kill kennedy.”

“possibly,” you make your entrance into the conversation, “but we don’t know who or what sets doomsday in motion.” you remove your legs from the table, leaning forward slightly, “could be kennedy, could be something that doesn’t have anything to do with him.”

five nods, “but, if we know something changes the timeline, we have to make it right.”

her eyebrows furrowing, allison cuts in. “yeah, but how are we supposed to do that if we don’t know what to fix?”

“oh, come on, do the math.” diego tells her in irritation, “we know dad’s having shady ass meetings with shady ass people. we know he’s on the grassy knoll in three days to kill the president. so i think we all know what we have to do.”

“kill dad.”

“find dad.”

the two have very different ideas, apparently, and five turns his head to look at him with furrowed eyebrows, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing at the incredulous look.

it’s quiet for a moment before vanya speaks. “none of us are supposed to be here, right? i mean, what if it’s us?” she looks around, “has anyone here done anything to screw up the timeline?”

another bout of silence surrounds you as looks are exchanged between everyone, before luther takes a deep breath to start a circle of accusations.

“diego has been stalking lee harvey oswald.”

pointing a finger at the big man, his voice raises immediately, “and you’re working for jack ruby!”

“allison has been very involved with local politics.” klaus pipes up from his seat beside you.

“okay, and you started a cult.” she points at him, giving a mocking smile.

while klaus hissed as if he were a cat, vanya sat up in her seat slightly. “i’m- i’m just a nanny on a farm, i don’t have anything to do with all of that.”

allison looks at her, “well, maybe you do, we just don’t know it yet.”

a loud whistle catches everyone’s attention, looking towards diego. “look at yourselves. everything in our new lives is connected to kennedy. that can’t be a coincidence. luther works for ruby, allison is protesting against the government, dad’s on the grassy knoll, klaus-” he pauses for a moment, looking at the man, “is doing something weird and pervy, but it’s probably connected in some way. clearly we were sent here for one special reason. save john fitzgerald kennedy.”

rolling your eyes as everyone starts to argue, you stand from your seat, feeling a headache coming on from being around this incredibly dysfunctional family, unable to not think about how peaceful it was when you were normal for once, just working in a diner.

“guys, you all die.” you look back at five as he speaks, cutting through all of the clashing voices. “i was there. i saw it. i wish i could forget it, but i can’t. i saw russian nukes vaporize the world with all of you in it, in a war that never happened until we brought it here. hazel gave his life to save us so you may need to shut up and just listen to me.”

you frown slightly at the confession, feeling bad that he had to see his family die yet again. you couldn’t imagine seeing your family buried in the rubble of your home, or actually watching the blazing fire that wipes them out from a nuke that takes out the city.

“i don’t know if the things we all experienced here are connected. i don’t know if there’s a reason for everything. but dad will.” he looks around at his family and to you, “we need to him before everyone and everything we know is dead.”

you’re about to voice your agreement, but luther is the one to speak first. “okay. i’m out.”

with furrowed eyebrows, you watch as he stands from where he sits, already heading towards the stairs. “were you even listening, luther?” you question in disbelief.

he looks to you. “yeah. yeah, i was. i heard a fifty-eight year old man who still wants his daddy to come and fix everything.” he gives a derisive grin, “and you can count me out. it’s time we all grew the hell up.”

everyone begins to call him back, and you can’t believe what you had just heard, quickly running around the chairs and being able to step in front of him before he starts making his way down the stairs, you walking backwards with each step he takes. “you’re kidding, right?”

five appears next to you with a blue flash, and luther finally stops as he stares up at him. “no one leaves until we figure this out.”

he looks between the both of you for a second, before suddenly he’s grabbing your arm and tossing you over the railing of the stairs as if you’re as light as a feather. you yelp from the surprise, and five is gone before you can grab onto him, landing on the tile floor with a groan as you curl in on yourself.

“asshole!” you call out to him as he leaves the building, diego following after him for who knows what reason.

standing from the ground, you hiss in pain as you feel the gash in your side sting like hell. you lift your shirt slightly and peel the bandage back a bit to see that the scab that was starting to form had teared apart, and you press your lips together as you let the bandage and your shirt fall back into place.

“let’s go!” you hear klaus call out, and you see the remaining three siblings start to make their way down the stairs. “oh, y/n!” he calls when he sees you standing at the bottom, smiling slightly, “would you like to get some tacos with us?”

looking to the side for a moment, you sigh, before looking back to him. five was gone and you didn’t know when he was coming back, so why not? “tacos sound amazing right now.”

-

music played from the radio resting in front of the mirror on the table matching the rest lined along the wall in the hair salon, and allison ranted about her husband, comb in hand as she messes with klaus’ hair.

with a groan of annoyance, she continues. “the nerve of that man.” she chuckles bitterly, shaking her head, “i mean, one thing goes wrong, and he’s on a warpath! i mean, doesn’t know who i am?” she looks into the mirror in front of him, pointing the comb, “no, no. no ray, you know exactly who i am. you just can’t handle it. i’m protecting him.”

you take a sip from the bottle of champagne on the table next to you, already feeling the alcohol taking effect as you smile slightly, watching the two of them as you hum along to the music. “protecting him from what?” klaus questions, his cigarette between his lips as he raises an eyebrow at her.

“the end of the world, for one.” she responds, the irritation clear in her voice.

vanya speaks from her seat across the room, her feet propped up on top of the table. “hey, is the world really going to end in six days?”

it’s quiet for a moment, and you take another drink from the bottle. “it did last time. i saw the aftermath.” you shrug, “sure, i didn’t see this one, but five wouldn’t lie about something like this.”

klaus gets up from the salon chair, and allison puts the comb she was using to the side. “hey, wouldn’t it be weird if five grew up all hot?” he asks, moving to stand in the middle of the room, grabbing one of the extra bottles to fill up his flask. allison expresses her disgust. “oh, ew! ew! please, miss ‘luther was my lover.’“

holding her hand up, the woman started defending herself. “we have never even kissed.”

“yeah, but you guys were making little sick moon-dog eyes at each other, all through puberty and breakfasts and all that.” he argues, motioning wildly with his hands.

turning her seat around so she can look towards all of you, vanya voices her confusion. “aren’t we all brothers and sisters, or?”

klaus snorts at the question, and you look to allison as she sits in klaus’ previous chair. “well, technically, it-”

“technically?” you cut her off, sitting up in your seat with a chuckle as you look to her, “if you have to use the word technically, you’re already in trouble.”

klaus giggles from where he stands, looking to vanya for a moment, “okay, can- can we focus?” allison dismisses the conversation, “i mean, clearly, we’re not saving the world tonight, but maybe, maybe, we can at least try to save my marriage!”

“no!” klaus cries out, and you grin, “no, because that’s- that’s like asking a nun how to hump someones leg. i mean, who in this room knows shit about relationships, huh? this one-” he points at vanya, “in secret love with some... farm frau,”

“her name’s sissy.” the woman whines.

“which is an improvement from her last lover, the serial killer.” he laughs, and vanya looks very confused from that comment, her eyebrows furrowing. “meanwhile i’m carrying a torch, for a soldier i haven’t technically met yet, luther is... in love with his sister. and you!” he spins around to point at you now, and you’re surprised by his sudden call out, “y/n, you don’t even realize that you’re ridiculously in love with five!”

you gape at the declaration, not even able to comprehend the accusation, but it doesn’t matter, because he keeps on. “face it, the only healthy long-term relationship in this family, was when five was banging that mannequin.” allison crosses her eyes, falling back into her seat, “the only thing the umbrella academy knows about love,” he holds his flask up into the air, “is how to screw it up.”

the two women mutter their agreements, and you take a long drink from the bottle, sighing as you let your head fall against the back of your chair, the champagne resting on your leg.

“how do you guys deal with this?” vanya questions, and you lift your head slightly to raise your eyebrows in question, and she continues. “all of it. the time travel, seeing the dead, the end of the world...”

“well i get really high,” klaus tells her, plopping into the chair behind him, “allison, allison... lies to herself.” the woman kicks a rolling stool towards him in irritation, causing him to flinch, “y/n works herself to death helping five, and you suppress all your emotions, deep, deep down, until you... you blow shit up.”

rolling your eyes, you decide to ignore his comments, looking to vanya. “yeah, i’d like to not do that anymore.” she looks to the floor.

“well,” you stand up, stumbling slightly, “you have six days.” you look at the nearly empty bottle of champagne, and you scrunch your nose up. did you really do that?

“what are we supposed to do with six days?” allison scoffs.

klaus mutters an ‘i don’t know’ and vanya seems like she has an ah-hah moment as she sits up in her chair. “i’m going to tell sissy i love her.” she announces, and klaus looks at her with raised eyebrows, his hands up in the air at his sides, “i don’t want any secrets.” she shrugs her shoulders.

“yeah-” allison grabs her bottle and stands up from her seat, “yeah, you’re right! ‘cause if everything’s going to go tits up, the least i can do is be honest with my husband!”

klaus rests his elbows on his knees, “oh... does that mean i’m going to have to face my cult?” he sighs, “i just hate group breakups- it’s why i stopped dating twins.”

vanya throws her hands out to the side, her eyebrows furrowed. “this family is amazing.”

the other two chuckle, and you shake your head with a grin on your face. yeah, their family is incredibly dysfunctional, but at least they were connected on some level. “let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” allison giggles, and klaus stands to hug her, both of them struggling to stand upright on their feet.

they motion for you and vanya to join, and when the woman hops over to engage in the group hug, you sigh and join in, having to lean against them all to keep yourself up.

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[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 22

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: FLUFF! Inappropriate jokes! The team being a family of mother hens. Steve + WAP! Reader's old man fetish is ✨blossoming✨. Stephen is finally evolving from Grinch into a human being.

a/n: How do we feel about Wanda/Loki pairing? Loki is comparatively around Wanda's/Reader's/Pietro's age, e.g. he's a young adult. Also, new divider.

All three of us spilled out of the elevator in a flurry of wet hair, outrageously large shopping bags and the smell of autumn leaves and cinnamon-infused chocolate. Picture perfect friends - our arms were linked, we stood side to side, our bags mixed up. Loki's silky black hair was dripping cold water onto my face and my own clothes sticking to me in uncomfortable places.

It started pouring buckets when we got into my car to go back to the tower. Wanda complained about being hungry and after a brief detour in one of the hole-in-the-wall, hidden gem, French boulangeries, all three of us were pleasantly relaxed and companionable under the influence of hot chocolate and fresh, warm croissants (Loki ate, like, ten, royal manners be damned). The five minute run from the parking lot to the main entrance resulted in us being way too soaked to be comfortable - thankfully, the shopping bags seemed to be waterproof. Or, perhaps, Loki enchanted them somehow.

"Stop fucking cheating, Rogers..." Tony was grumbling in frustration, looking at an array of cards in his hands, squinting suspiciously at a smug Steve.

Noticing us, the room perked up immediately. Thor lifted his head and we saw him and Pietro splayed out on the couch, each male holding a play station controller. Stephen Strange was sat cross-legged on the floor, reading a book, while Natasha filed her nails next to him, a face of tranquility and indifference.

We almost backpedaled from the amount of puppy eyes suddenly gazing at us.

"Sup?" I decided to go first, seeing as both of my companions were still mostly confused. What the hell, I was equally perplexed.

"How was your day, brother?" and "Got yourself a nice dress?" and "Marchesa? Not bad." Were the most intelligible words I could make out of the cacophony that descended upon us.

And it suddenly downed on me. Neither Wanda nor Loki had previously left for the city on their own. Their siblings were worried. I sighed, concealing my happiness behind a quiet complaint of being cold and wet. My bags were picked up by Thor who abandoned his game in favour of greeting his brother with a hug. Surprisingly, Loki didn't refuse and let Thor embrace him and relieve us of our items to deposit them out of the way.

"Cold," Wanda whined, stripping off her damp sweater to reveal simple black leggings and tee underneath.

"Wet," Loki mumbled, gathering a ball of green magic to dry out his dripping hair.

"Gross," I said, walking straight into Tony's open arms. He didn't say anything, just indicated my place was in his lap, squeaking and shivering as soon as I reached my destination.

"Baby girl, you're gonna get sick. Let's go take a bath," He unsuccessfully attempted to lift my limp body. I groaned in protest, dead on my feet. It felt like I had walked a thousand miles. Wasn't gonna remove myself from a warm, soft Tony.

"I'm dead, like, I'm a zombie. If you move me, I'll eat that sexy brain of yours," I threatened fitfully.

"Well, at least change out of these clothes. You're dripping me in gross, polluted rain water," The engineer laughed.

"Lazy," I replied, nestling myself closer to his warmth. He tugged on my clothes, wrestling me out of the top layers, leaving me shivering like a newborn kitten across his lap. His eyes darted across the room - evidently, he was looking for some sort of a hoodie as he wasn't wearing one at the time. Tony knew how much I loved those and always kept one in his vicinity. Thoughtful, lovely Tony.

"Have you seen my MIT sweatshirt?" He asked and everyone replied negative. Tony frowned.

"Here, have mine," Strange stood up, unzipping and handing me his own plain grey one. "I'll make some herbal tea for the girls least they actually get sick." With that, the grumpy doctor walked off into the kitchen. I watched his broad back retreat with renewed interest. Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave...

One warm hoodie and hot tea later, I was feeling less like a drowned cat and more like the fabulous human being that I was. Wanda had told everyone about her two cute new dresses without actually revealing the idea behind her costume. Somehow all of us silently agreed to surprise each other after I pulled my stunt on Stephen.

Strange didn't seem to be mad at me; his presence was amiable and delightful. He made usual small talk and we engaged in a brief, friendly battle of the wits and he and Tony managed to not piss off each other too much. Loki and Wanda hung nearby, and we chatted, too, mostly about less popular but very cool movies the three of us could watch... Yeah, so we were arranging a sleepover. Bite me.

"So, everyone ready for the party?" Clint was all but bouncing in his seat. "Me and Sammy-boy, we'll have the coolest costumes!" He exclaimed, smirking in Tony and Bruce's direction. Something was coming, something great, from my two boys. I could sense it. Natasha probably knew and tattled to Clint already. The bird bros fist-bumped with an obnoxious cheer.

I was feeling drowsy. The tea Strange made had something calming in it. My usual energetic spirit was gone, replaced by a mellow sort of mood. Plus, my feet hurt from all the walking. I moaned in distaste, flexing my toes.

"I disagree," Wanda shared a secretive smile with Loki and me.

Apparently, my discomfort was quite obvious. It took only another quiet, pitiful groan from me for Bruce to scoot closer, remove my socks and tenderly knead the arch of my foot. He smiled at me, soft and gentle, pressing the pads of his fingers into the soft, painful spots.

"Yeah, Pigeon, no amount of make-up will help that ugly mug," Tony declared with a wave of his hand.

"Tony!" Sam defended his bird bro, tossing a pillow at the engineer and missing me by barely an inch.

"You don't need any make-up, bird. You need plastic surgery." I jumped on the bully Clint bandwagon for the lolz. He was actually quite handsome, but his reactions always were fucking priceless. All of us occasionally ruffled his feathers but never to an actually hurtful extent.

"Not gonna lie, that one hurt." Barton huffed, crossing his arms.

Meanwhile, Bruce had moved onto my other foot. I had to hold in a bunch of very lewd, inappropriate noises. Tony was grinning above me, not at all affected by me squirming around. Banner grinned back at the engineer. They were definitely plotting something.

That just wouldn't do, I decided. Time to throw Rick and Morty off their course a little. I stretched leisurely, allowing the hem of my borrowed hoodie to lift, exposing an inch too much of skin than strictly appropriate.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steve's arched eyebrow and the small secretive smirk he hid behind a cup of tea. The Captain wasn't as virtuous as the others thought and he definitely was onto me.

Bruce still wreaked havoc on my vestibular system by doing some magical voodoo shit to my toes and traded suspicious grins with Tony who radiated an unfair amount of smugness.

"Oh my God," I stretched with a moan of contentment. "Fucking rail me." I might have used this particular choice of words on purpose. The Avengers that memed with me knew the actual meaning but they were in the minority. Most, including Tony and Bruce, gasped in shock at my choice of words. I grinned innocently. "What?"

"We don't use that kind of language around here!" Steve exclaimed, barely hiding a full-fledged laugh behind his cup.

"Cap, a lot has changed in the past seventy years, if you didn't notice," Barton rolled his eyes. "Women are allowed to express themselves now."

"Men think it's pretty hot, actually," Tony remarked, giving me one of his positively mischievous smiles, gently stroking my cheek and dipping his index finger under the hem of my top, following the lines of my collarbone. "It's just that Cap got left out in the cold."

"Very funny, Tony," Steve groaned as the rest of the group laughed. "We don't need a repeat of the WAP incident."

I choked on my breath. "The WHAT incident?!"

Laughter drowned out Steve's stuttering explanation as the supersoldier blushed, possibly, the most saturated shade of scarlet I'd ever seen on a human's face. I had to stop Bruce from continuing to make my limbs into Jell-O, wanting to hear the full story clearly. Anything that warranted such a strong reaction from Steve was bound to be, like, equal parts extremely embarrassing and hilarious. Bucky was laughing up a storm, a tell-tale sign of him having taken direct actions to ensure Steve would be as confused and ashamed as possible.

"Steve caught Peter listening to the song and asked him about it. Peter refused to answer at first, so Bucky decided to mess with Steve a bit," Pietro began explaining. "So Bucky goes: WAP stands for wasted academic potential. Steve sits on it a couple of days, believing his boyfriend like the naïve old man he is," Pietro was gesturing vividly, arms flailing, as the Captain buried his face in his hands. "Lo and behold, Steve had to give a Captain America speech at some sort of school for delinquent children. And at the end of it all - Natasha has that bit on video, by the way - he gives his stern Captain look and goes "WAP is no joke!"!" The speedster laughed out loud along with everybody.

I was howling at that point, staring at Steve. Did the old man realize all the answers to his questions were a simple Google search away? "NO, he didn't, oh my God," I wheezed, suddenly having realized where it was going.

"He totally did!" Clint continued, giving Pietro a fond look and a chance to catch his breath. "The whole student population was laughing, tears rolling down their faces, as the principal started angrily ranting right in Steve's face. And he was just so, so-o confused. Man, his face..." Clint shook his head. "He left so freaking red in the face I thought he was going to have a heart attack. The students had started singing the song, the uncensored version - mind you - at some point and Steve just progressively got redder and redder."

"I'm seventy percent Irish, I can't help it!" Steve cried in his own defense, the famous blush on full display, but laughing nonetheless as he clutched onto his left boob for dear life.

"And one hundred percent dumbass!" Bucky clapped his boyfriend on the shoulder.

I nodded along, me and Tony a howling pile of limbs. The engineer himself was holding onto me for dear life, too winded to make any of his usual snarky commentary regarding Steve's epic failure. "Pure of heart, dumb of ass," I wheezed out my sudden realization.

"Shit, I'm getting that on a t-shirt," Tony sent himself into another cackle fest. "That's brilliant, Princess."

Bucky nodded along, "I'm buying one for this punk." He pointed at Steve, poking him in the right pec.

"Jerk," Steve's gaze was annoyed but fond as he gently shoved his boyfriend before placing a gentle kiss atop his head. Old people in love, so adorable.

"May I request one for my brother as well?" Loki interjected, eyebrow raised, eyeing Thor trying to pry open a carton of ice cream and failing to notice the little plastic lid covering the top part of it. The blonde was utterly oblivious both to his brother and to the chaos around him, set on his quest for salted caramel pecan creamy goodness. I couldn't say I didn't see the appeal...

"What did you call - himbos?" Stephen eyed me curiously, pointing to Thor and Steve with a shaky hand.

I nodded in response. "Harmless, loveable, kind, beefy and utter dumbasses," I pointed out the main characteristics. "I love himbos."

"You said my brain was sexy," Tony pouted, pressing me closer to him and in turn, making my legs wrap around Bruce in a funny way that brought all three of us in a weird sandwich hug. I must've died and gone to heaven once again. "This is bullshit," And Tony fuckin' bit me. The bastard sunk his teeth into my shoulder strong enough to leave a mark.

"I love big, fat brains. Unf," My attempt at a salacious voice only made people laugh. "No PhD, no pussy. I don't make the rules," I snorted loudly.

"You and your old man kink," Wanda chuckled good-naturedly, casting me a knowing glance over the tops of her friends' heads.

"Yes," I agreed solemnly, pulling Tony in for a kiss without an ounce of shame or reservation, catching Stephen's amused face meeting my eyes for a brief second, his eyebrow raised meaningfully. Looked like someone took my comment a little close to heart. Nobody really batted an eye at Bruce being in the middle of our cuddle puddle so if I had to guess, Stephen Strange was at least interested... Or was he silently judging me?

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[your-local-metal-lesbian]

Gay shopping trip (gay metal fanfic mess)

Written with @theshityoucallmyheart

We're going gay to hell for this and please, don't murder us.

“Why did I even agree to this?” Tarja muttered under her breath while Sharon dragged her through the shops at the mall.

‘’Because you love me, that’s why’’ Sharon grinned and blew her girlfriend a kiss. Tarja sighed and silently begged Sharon to finally find what she wanted. Earlier that day, Sharon asked her girlfriend to go on a shopping date with her, and Tarja, who hated shopping even more than pop music, for some reason agreed. And now, after barely half an hour of being among humans, Tarja already was ready to go home and be gay by herself. Her girlfriend, on the other hand, was nowhere close to that. “Tari, have you seen any unicorn mugs? I can’t find them!”

The Finnish vampire groaned. “For the last time, Sharon, no, I haven’t seen any unicorn mugs. Why do you even need any more, we have ten at home. Saatana…” Sharon turned around. “There are never enough unicorn mugs. Also, I don’t have a rainbow one yet and I need that one because, y’know, gay?”

Tarja shot her a scandalized look. “Am I not gay enough for you or what? You should get a Tarja mug instead.”

“Did I hear ‘Tarja’ and ‘gay’ in the same sentence?”, someone behind them asked. “Where’s the fucking difference, you idiot?”, another male voice responded. Tarja turned around and saw her ex-boyfriend Emppu (yes, the one who made her realize she’s gay - and vice versa) and his boyfriend Jukka. “Wait, Emppu? Am I hallucinating or is it really you?”

Instead of answering, Emppu tackled her in a bear hug and almost knocked her off her feet.

‘’Apparently. I haven’t seen you in ages, bro. And you brought your favourite pansexual mess, I see’’ Tarja said once she recovered from the hug.

Jukka rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a mess, I’m just a pansexual insomniac!”

‘’Honey, you look like you just got dragged out of a trash can.” Sharon laughed.

“Don’t listen to her, you look acceptable. Did you find that bandana you were looking for?” Simone and Floor manifested behind the group and effectively scared the living lights out of Jukka, who jumped and screamed like he was stabbed.

Sharon grinned at her fellow Dutchwomen and hugged both of them. “Fancy seeing you two here, didn’t expect that.”

Meanwhile Tarja sat down on the floor and pouted. Emppu poked her in the ribs and asked “You okay down there?” She scoffed and replied: “Too many humans here. I’m not going to move until Sharon carries me out of here.”

Floor rested her elbow on Jukka’s shoulder. “So, mind showing me what kind of bandana you got?” That was the last thing they heard before her shriek pierced the air.

“BRIGHT PINK? ARE YOU SERIOUS, THAT’S EYE CANCER!”

“Perkele, calm down. Emppu dared me to, and by the way look at your girlfriend’s shirt and tell me that’s a better colour.”

‘’Don’t insult Simone unless you want me to hide your weed and drink all your vodka.’’

‘’Try that, and I’ll come at you with my drumsticks.”

“Voi helvettin, get your shit together.” Tarja interrupted their banter, but was cut off by Sharon, who picked her up in bridal style. “Sorry guys, the midget is getting impatient. We’ll leave you to it, see you hopefully later!”

Emppu sighed. “Can you please stop with the height jokes?”

Floor ruffled his hair. “Sorry, no. Get yourself some plateau shoes and we’ll talk again.”

‘’I’m sorry, my beloved hobbit’’ Jukka said, trying to hide his laugh.

Simone, who had just sprinted back from the Hot Topic, crashed into Emppu full-force, and helped him back up. “Excuse me, didn’t see you down there. I found you something, Floor, look!”

“Awww, thanks!” Floor gave her fiancée a kiss on the cheek, but they were interrupted by Jukka, who squinted at the cowboy hat and, with a deadpan expression, said: “Bright pink? I thought that colour was eye cancer.”

Simone turned towards Emppu, who blanked and then bolted. “I’m never playing Truth or Dare with that bastard again…” she growled and then chased after him.

Jukka and Floor exchanged a look. Both were still holding their ‘eye cancer’ stuff. “So, are we going to return that shit? I’m getting a headache just by looking at it.”, the drummer asked.

‘’Nah, I’m keeping it. It’s kinda cute, and since Simone gave it to me…”

Jukka sighed. “You really are hopelessly gay. But we’re getting that little bastard back for this.” Floor grinned. “Sounds like a plan. And yes, I am hopelessly gay for her. Who wouldn’t be, after all...”

He snorted. “I guess Emppu has a different opinion of your lady, judging by how mad she is at him. And also, he’s hella gay so women aren’t exactly his vodka.”

Floor shook her head and sat down on a nearby bench. Somehow her iced coffee managed to survive the whole ordeal, so she took a few sips and waited for Simone and Emppu to return. In the distance, she saw Sharon still dragging Tarja through the mall. How these two managed to not hack each other’s heads off was a miracle to her, but then again, Jukka and Emppu’s crackhead dynamic was working out too even though Jukka was visibly losing brain cells with every passing day. After all, why bother with brain cells when you can have gay thoughts instead?

Simone sat down next to her fiancée and rested her head on her shoulder.

‘’Busy day, huh?’’ Floor asked her. ‘’Oh, yeah, but a fun one. Chasing Emppu to the ass of the world was totally worth it’’

With that, the redhead had fallen asleep on Floor’s shoulder. Great, now I have to carry a fiancée and an iced coffee back to the hotel. She sent a quick text to the two guys, downed the coffee, and carefully picked Simone up before leaving.