#but i hope someone else will roll with it too

[haologram]

what do i call you? 🕹️ k.mg [m]

synopsis: your best friend is a man of many facets - a creative architecture student, a skilled football player, a wonderful friend and a sought-after lover. not that he'd ever truly glance anyone's way, especially not when his heart has always been set on you. genre: college au, idiots friends to lovers au ; angst, fluff, suggestive ? slightly smutty? themes. pairing: football player!kim mingyu x fem!college journalist!reader word count: 15.3k rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, mentions of smoking (weed), mentions of food and eating. mutual pining, vernon is a plot device (because i love him.) mentions of infidelity and situationships. vernon calls reader bunny. mingyu and y/n are fucking stupid. mentions of omegas (i had to do it.) kissing, petnames (baby, honey, pretty, etc.) brief dry humping, making out. what to listen to: what do i call you? - taeyeon ; run for the hills - tate mcrae ; number one girl - rosé ; rain - swv ; hooked on your love - en vogue ; cherish the day - sade ; call me baby - exo. author's note: happiest birthday to my dear @tomodachiii ♡ i hope you forgive me for having been so ominous in the chat, and know that i love you so dearly. also, i was going to write the smut but i chickened out, mingyu is just too sexy for my brain. please eat well and stay healthy. also, thank you to both @100vern & @wonuwoe for giving me their journalism insight, as i am unfortunately a woman in stem that knows nothing about it.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU'RE NOT WRITING THE COLUMN ABOUT ME?"

You roll your eyes, sighing as your fingers rub your temples. Your best friend is currently seated not even five feet away, his lower lip jutted out in a pout as the steam from his oxtail bone soup wafts in his face. You'd been attempting to soothe his woes about the stupid column piece for the last thirty minutes, even bribing him by saying you'd spend your last twenty dollars on dessert if he dropped the topic. While nothing can get in the way of Mingyu and his food, his best friend writing a column about a sport he plays, giving one player spotlight, and not choosing him was something he simply could not let go. "Y/N, that's not fair."

"Except it is, Gyu. All the features I've written this season have been about you. One more and people might think I'm in love with you." You huff, forcing your lips into a smile as the waitress slides your order of soft tofu stew in front of you. You thank her quietly, and she simply nods her head curtly before going about her way. Mingyu eyes your bowl, the pout on his lips only deepening as you sigh, sliding your bowl over for him to dip his spoon into.

"I just think you should care about me more." He sniffs, blowing softly on the spoonful of broth from your stew. You quirk a brow as he brings the spoon to his mouth, your own lips twitching slightly at the roll of his eyes from the perfect balance of flavors on his tongue. You loved watching him eat, it was one of your favorite past times.

Not that he needed to know that.

"Mingyu, I do care about you. The newspaper has given me six columns this season alone, and I've interviewed you every single time. Let someone else have a chance." You take your bowl back, but not before he spears the jiggly tofu with his spoon, making you snicker as he burns his tongue on it.

"Why would I do that when you're my best friend? Are you saying you want to give someone else that chance? Like who, Chan? You know he smells like macaroni, right? And he bites." Mingyu breathes around the hot piece of tofu in his mouth, and you only laugh as you slide his bowl of rice closer to you. You take a bit on your spoon, dipping it into your stew before shrugging your shoulders.

"Mingyu, everyone knows you're a star, okay? You've scored sixty-two out of sixty-seven touchdowns so far, and that's just this season. You're the only quarterback in Hawk history that hasn't blown out his shoulder, which is insane. You're one of the best players in terms of field time and academics. That thing you made for your Architectural Design course? Your Apartment of a Lonely Soul model? You got displayed at the Museum of Arts for that two fucking weeks ago, and I put you in the paper for that. The people love Kim Mingyu, I think it's only fair that I give someone else a smidge of the spotlight."

He rolls his eyes, but you see the faint blush creeping on his cheeks and ears as he takes a sip of his water.

Whether you care to admit it or not, you know that the people you speak of, also refer to you. 

You know that the way you write about Mingyu in your columns is the way a proud friend does, someone who cares, someone who loves him – and you know it shows bias. You know that if anyone watched your relationship with Mingyu from afar, they could tell how much you care about him, how much he means to you, how much you love him.

And you're worried that one day, someone might look too close and realize that your love for him is nothing even remotely close to platonic.

It hasn't been for the last six years of your life-long friendship.

If someone asks you, you're honest. You tell them Mingyu has been your best friend for years. You tell them that you've soothed his broken heart time and time again, that he's held your hair while you've thrown up and he's scared off shitty guys constantly. You tell them that when he's drunk, he sends you ramblings on Snapchat and eventually makes his way to your apartment to crash on your couch. You tell them that you feed him before he crashes, and make him hydrate before he goes down.

You tell them that your mom loves Mingyu, and how helpful he is when he goes home with you every so often. You tell them that he makes the best short rib soup and you've never seen someone so willing to build a bookshelf with your father. You tell them that Mingyu gets along well with your siblings, even going as far as going home with you one summer to coach your little brother's flag football team with your dad.

And then, like always – they tell you that there's no man that does that for anyone he sees as just his friend.

You choose to ignore it.

You continue to write your pieces about him, long-winded and full of purple prose in order to talk him up. You're of the idea that everyone who is capable of loving, should love Mingyu. They do, everyone on campus adores the gentle giant that he is – everyone includes girl after girl after girl. Mingyu has had three girlfriends in the twenty years that you've been his friend. He's definitely the kind of guy that likes to commit – each one lasted anywhere from a year to three. His last one, Sowon, lasted a year and a half – before he found out that she was hooking up with a guy (read: your ex-boyfriend, Daewon) on the baseball team while he was at practice. 

He didn't even need her to confirm it, because he walked in on it in the men's locker room. He'd been twenty minutes late to practice, opting to drive you to a game tech convention on the other side of town. You'd practically begged him to, saying that you wanted to write a report about it for your Digital Media course and he just couldn't say no. He doesn't remember exactly what he said to her, her eyes full of guilt and regret as she quickly dressed herself and pushed past him. However, he does remember the odd feeling in his chest, and the way he tried to figure it out as he skipped practice and drove all the way back to the other side of town to pick you up.

He remembers the look on your face when you came out of the convention with your phone in hand to get a rideshare, only to see him parked front and center waiting for you against the grill of his old pick-up truck. He didn't want to talk about it, but essentially told you things between them were over as he drove the two of you to the very same diner the two of you are sitting at now, ordering all of his favorites and scarfing them down while he asked you to tell him everything about the convention. It was the most dejected you'd ever seen him look, but you also knew Mingyu well.

There was a hint of relief behind the glaze of hurt.

That was a year ago. Now, the two of you are sitting on the impending doom of graduation. You're awaiting a call back from an internship you applied to last year, and Mingyu was awaiting a letter from a Masters' program. You were both single, your last situationship ending shortly after starting because the guy was convinced you and Mingyu had a thing – simply because he came over (uninvited, unannounced) on a night where Mingyu insisted you watch the entirety of Park Chanwook's Vengeance trilogy. You didn't care too much – not when the two of you were nervous wrecks, doing everything and anything to fill your racing minds and not think about your futures.

Much like sitting in this diner and sharing a meal, your foot resting on the side of his thigh as he sits on the opposite side of the booth.

"You're too far away." He pouts, before sliding his bowl across the table and standing up, slipping next to you in the cracked vinyl booth. You worm slightly closer to the window, pretending the sudden wave of his spicy cologne doesn't make your head spin. It settled so well with the powdery scent of his detergent, the softer smell that reminded you of laying on a blanket with him, stargazing out on the football field during spring midterms. 

You can't hide the way your hands tremble slightly as you reach for your spoon, but Mingyu's hawk-like gaze misses nothing.

"You cold? You're shaking like a leaf." He eyes you with a raised brow, and doesn't allow you to respond before you feel him tug his hefty letterman jacket off. The black leather sleeves brush your sweater, and you find yourself being cocooned in the warmth that now filled the jacket, radiating off your best friend's body with ease. "You're a human furnace, Mingyu." You mutter to yourself, feeling him ruffle your hair as he moves his water closer to him, opting to rearrange all the side dishes as you carefully inched away from him. You could be caught staring and Mingyu wouldn't tease you about it, you knew that much – but to be caught tensing at the brushing of your thigh with his, your arm with his, your hand with his…would be much more embarrassing.

"So I've been told. Don't think you're gonna butter me up into forgetting about the fact that you hate me, Y/N." He gives you a pointed look as he stirs his soup, your jaw dropping slightly to gape up at him.

"Oh my God, Mingyu! I don't hate you, you're making this a bigger deal than it is!" You whine, but don't miss the way he smiles around his straw, his broad shoulders taking up way too much of your space as he shrugs. 

"I mean, six pieces on me in one season, but you won't make your last piece about me? And it's to spotlight a player? You've been giving me the spotlight all season! You can't take it away from me, I'll get withdrawals." "Mingyu, there has gotta be something I can do to get you to get over this. I already offered to pay for dessert, and I'm letting you pick. What else do you want from me?" Your voice is exasperated, but you don't like the glint of mischief in Mingyu's eyes as he looks down at you. He traces your features, before a soft smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

"What are you doing Friday night?" "Mingyu." "You're not doing me, sweetheart. I need you to focus." You gape inwardly, scoffing out a laugh and running your hand through your hair as you tilt slightly to face him. He's already looking at you, his tongue running over his lower lip as you meet his eyes.

"I mean…unless you want to." "You are so fucking irritating." You scoff, shoving his shoulder as he giggles. Mingyu rarely made comments like that, but when he did, it was like he was the master of timing. He loved to catch you off guard, even going as far as pinching your cheek or sidling up to you really close to emphasize his point. He'd give you that cheeky smile, he'd look at you like you put the stars in the sky and sometimes, just sometimes, those eyes would dart down to your lips before flickering away and ending the bit.

All in good fun, you always thought. 

Of course you'd thought about it, about him. About what being a lover to him would be like, about what he was like as a boyfriend. You saw it, the way he treated his girlfriends – with the utmost care, the biggest gentleman you'd ever met. He held doors open, he carried them over puddles, he retired his jackets and hoodies to their shoulders if the air even had a hint of a chill in it.

But, he cooked for you. He cleaned for you, he helped you with your projects and asked for your opinion on his. He held you close, no matter who was in his life – and it became a point of contention in his relationships. So much so that any girl that he began talking to had to meet you first – and he'd observe quietly. He'd watch you try to befriend them, how your animated personality often dwindled in their presence. He'd notice the way your smile would softly fade, often replaced with a furrow in your brows before you glanced at him, as if to say, next.

You approved of Sowon, because she was sweet. She was nice to you, and she was nice to Mingyu, until she wasn't. 

You approved of his longest girlfriend, Soyoung, because she tried her hardest to get along with you and even invited you to her own social gatherings – regardless of if Mingyu would be in attendance or not. The two ended when Soyoung decided she wasn't built for sharing Mingyu's attention, and he let her go without so much as a second thought. 

You approved of his first girlfriend, Sohee, because you were all idiots in high school and you didn't think it would matter that much to Mingyu – and you'd told him so.

You also did it because it was year two of you dealing with your newfound romantic feelings for Mingyu, and you figured if he had a girlfriend – he wouldn't notice the way you drifted from him. If it meant keeping your friendship and dissolving your romantic feelings for the puppy-eyed man, you would take the leap of being distant. However, return to the abovementioned point: Mingyu's hawk-like gaze misses nothing. He broke things off with Sohee after a year, noticeably missing your presence and seeking you out so much your mother asked you if you were dating. You remember the look of pity in her eyes when you'd answered in the negative.

"What, Miss Y/N, are you doing on Friday night?" You try to ignore the smile on his lips as he leans slightly closer, closing your eyes as you sigh. "Nothing, Mingyu. I'm not doing anything." "Now you are." "I'm broke, Gyu."

"Pretty girls never pay, hm?"  He gives you a pointed look, and you sink slightly into his jacket, sliding a bit down the booth as your cheeks burn. He only laughs, his warm fingers pinching the fat of your cheek before you swat him away. "God, you'd think I've never complimented you. We've been friends our entire lives, what's your deal?" "Nothing! You're just a twerp who doesn't mean it." You stick your tongue out at him, before feeling the tips of his fingers graze your jaw. He tilts your head up to face him, a quizzical look in his eyes.

"What makes you say that? You think I say things just to make you feel better?" You raise a brow as his fingers squish your cheeks together, your lips puckering slightly as you reply, "I mean…don't you?" "No, Y/N. I don't. I think you're pretty, why would I lie about that?" He scoffs, before tilting his head in the direction of your stew. "Eat." The rest of the meal was spent in comfortable silence, your cheeks remaining hot under his soft gaze and gentle gestures. He drove the two of you to get dessert across town, his card hitting the reader before you could even fish out your wallet to spend your last twenty dollars as promised. He wiped your face of stray cookie crumbs as you ate in his car with the heat blasting, your own hand swatting him away constantly.

He walked you up to your apartment, biting back his laugh as your roommate, Hansol, nearly fell on his ass trying to pry open the living room window to air out the smell of weed. He smiled hazily at Mingyu, before Mingyu's best friend appeared out of your bathroom, stoned out of his mind.

"Sol, you said you wouldn't hotbox the living room again." You groan, setting your purse down on the foyer table. He winces, before pointing at Wonwoo.

"His idea." "Your apartment, idiot." Wonwoo rolls his bloodshot eyes, and Mingyu only grimaces as he quietly offers to let you spend the night at his place. You decline it almost immediately, not wanting a repeat of the first (and last) time you ever spent the night at Mingyu's apartment. Yours had flooded, and Hansol had found solace in his girlfriend's arms (and apartment) while you were left to fend for yourself.

Not really. Not if Mingyu had any say in it – and he did.

That night was like a scene out of a movie, the way he literally slammed into you fresh out of the shower. You remember the perfect way the moonlight lit him up through the cracked window, the drops of water on his abdomen burned into your brain. You also remember sleeping on the very edge of his bed that night, so much so that he eventually moved to the floor to let you get a good night's rest. You left the next day to invade Hansol and his girlfriend, Saerom, for the next two days while your apartment was fixed. 

Neither of you spoke about it since, and you thanked your lucky stars that it was never brought up.

You let Wonwoo and Hansol bicker on your ratty couch, rolling your eyes as you held the door for Mingyu. He leaned against the doorway slightly, smiling down at you through perfectly bitten pink lips.

"I'll see you around, Gyu." You offer softly, rolling your eyes and tilting your head towards the two stoners now fighting over the remote to watch movies on your Amazon Prime account. "Friday." He corrects, and you suddenly realize how easily he stares at you like he knows something about you. You clear your throat, your cheeks growing even hotter as he tilts your chin up to look at him. "Say it. Say you'll see me on Friday. I'll pick you up from the office." "I'll see you on Friday." You murmur, earning a wink from him. 

"See you, pretty." He spins on his heel, tucking his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket as he barrels down the stairs of your apartment complex. You watch over the railing as he gets to his car, waving as he looks up. He waves back, opening his car door and almost instantly pulling out of the parking lot.

What you don't know is how he settles into the way your citrus perfume is now infused with his on the material of his jacket. His cheeks are warm at the idea of your flustered state in the diner earlier, and when you were sitting in his car eating your cookies. How your shy smile was only ever present around him, immediately disappearing if someone else joined your conversations or if you were around literally anyone else.

Like he made you nervous, something he'd noticed almost a decade ago. The way he could listen to you, talk to you, look at you all day – and you just brushed it off like it was nothing but you couldn't hide the twinge of fluster in your voice around him. The way you constantly talked about him if you thought he wasn't listening. How you wrote all your pieces about him, and how all his friends teased him about how in love you sounded. How enamored you sounded when you wrote about him, how passionate you were about sharing him and his success with the world to appreciate. He could date these pieces back to the first semester of your freshman year together, but he's liked you far longer than that.

Mingyu knew a lot of things, but he knew you best. You hadn't ever cared about someone the way you had him, and you made it very obvious. He crossed all his fingers, hoping the feeling in his chest when you brushed against him was something you felt, too. Hoping that you also settled in your bed and your only thoughts before closing your eyes were of him as his were of you. 

Hoping that you liked him, in the same way. Hoping that you wondered what his lips would feel like against yours, what it would feel like to slot your fingers together in more than just a platonic way. He wondered if you'd let him kiss you breathless, he wondered if your eyes lingered on him that night because you liked what you saw. 

Yeah, Mingyu likes you. He likes you a lot.

"NO CAN DO, Y/N. YOU ALREADY SAID YOU'D INTERVIEW LEE CHAN."

Hansol was sitting on the edge of his desk with a lollipop between his lips, looking over the rough drafts of your fellow journalists. How all of you at the Hawk Review ended up under Hansol Chwe was beyond you, but you weren't complaining. He was smart and calculated, creative, and he figured out a way to redirect some of the funding to better snacks and a Keurig for the Hawk Review Committee. 

And you can't lie, either – he was a very just and fair editor. He didn't let just anyone onto the committee, often going through rigorous interviewing processes (for virtually no reason except vibes) and even going as far as making you his second in command – so long as you agreed that what happened at the HRC, stayed at the HRC. As your editor, he was more than willing to listen to you drone on and on about literally anything having to do with any of your columns or articles. As your roommate, Hansol did not want to talk about the committee at all – he preferred throwing popcorn at you while you bickered over who was dumber in How I Met Your Mother. You both agreed it was definitely Ted for the majority of the show.

"I'm gonna have to pull a veto on that, Chwe. I need to write about Mingyu." You sigh frustratedly, running a hand through your hair as you stuff your laptop into your tote. Hansol eyes you, before sliding the lollipop out of his mouth and pointing it at you.

"You are down atrociously for that guy, you know that? The dating rumors that I've had to deny for you are driving me towards the brink of insanity." You scoff in offense, your mouth attempting to form around words but only resulting in odd noises before you cover your face with your hands.

"Hansol!" "Y/N!" "I am not down anything for Mingyu, okay? I just know that if as a journalist, consistency is key, is it not? If I have put my best foot forward towards a project, in this case, interviewing Mingyu regularly for my columns…wouldn't it be just and fair, as a journalist with a semi-Mingyu-based following, to give him Spotlight of The Season? Wouldn't it be, oh wise one, something just and fair to have him be the topic of my last column as your second-in-command, Editor Chwe?"

Hansol only smiles, shaking his head before sighing. "You drive a hard bargain, Y/N." "So I've been told. Please, Sol. Mingyu will kill me if I don't do my last piece on him." You clasp your hands in front of you, jutting your lips out in a pout as you bat your lashes at him. He only snorts, tossing his unfinished lollipop into the trash can. He slides into the chair behind the heavy mahogany desk, a glint of mischief in his eyes that you can't quite place as he opens his laptop. He types away as you cross your arms across your chest, bearing your weight on one foot, tapping the other nervously.

"Well, let's see. You've written six columns on Mingyu this year alone, and one of them had nothing to do with football. Your column about his exhibit at the Museum of Arts last month was actually a great piece." He peers at you over the top of his laptop, and you tilt your head. "The Museum emailed our coordinator, you know. Said that your piece brought their ticket sales up by five percent." Your jaw drops slightly, "You're kidding." "I'm not." He shrugs, returning his line of vision to the laptop in front of him. You can see the way his cheeks move slightly, as if he's suppressing a smile, "You know, the coordinator who writes the recommendation letters for our internships. Mrs. Lee." "Hansol, if you're kidding, please shut up right now." Your voice is whiny as he smiles softly. You'd only ever seen him smile that way when he's going to deliver good news, as if to soften the blow, lessen the shock value. A smile that screams you deserve this, and everything good that comes your way.

"Mrs. Lee asked me what I thought of you, Y/N." He leaned back in his chair, pulling the drawer open and taking out yet another lollipop. He offers you one, and you take the green apple, unwrapping it as you lean on the desk. "She also asked me if I'd be willing to write your recommendation letter." Your eyes widen, "Hansol, please–" "Don't beg me. I hate it when you beg." He rolls his eyes, turning his laptop to face you. It's open to Y/N LETTER - DRAFT 2 OF 6. You can feel your nose burn as tears sting your eyes, and he closes the laptop before speaking.

"It will still go through Mrs. Lee for review, and for her to add her own notes. I think your dedication to the Hawk Review Committee has been absolutely insane. You've never failed to deliver, and everyone always loves your pieces, whether they're about Mingyu's abilities as a quarterback, Mingyu's talent for architecture and eye for what looks good. I think you're right, consistency as a journalist is key." He nods, giving you a knowing look.

"I'm sensing a but, here."

"But, I won't submit something that goes against what is true. I wrote in here that I think you're a brave individual who takes on any challenge life gives you. Submitting that when I know it's simply not true is a violation of ethics, giving false information and whatnot." He taps the metal of his laptop, and your brows furrow.

"What?" "I'm not submitting this until you tell Mingyu that you're in love with him. That gives you…" He checks his phone, "Three days. Three days to confess, so I can submit this to Mrs. Lee and she can get it in at your internship before the deadline closes and you're inevitably out of an opportunity at your own volition." Your jaw drops fully, "You're kidding." "I can assure you, Miss Y/N, I am not." He smiles lazily, shrugging his shoulders as he leans back. You scoff, but nothing tells you he's serious more than the way he opens his phone and sets a timer for seventy-two hours. "Three. Days. Hop to, bunny." "Hansol." "Oh, and I need your Spotlight of the Season column by then, too. Gotta skim through to make sure you don't say he's the love of your life in paragraph three again." "Oh, fuck you! That was one time!" You pout, "Don't do this to me, Vern. I literally helped you get that date with Saerom last year!" "And look at me now, Y/N!" He holds up his phone, a picture of him and Saerom filling the screen. "Just because you don't have balls, doesn't mean you can't have balls, you know?" "Wise words from Hansol Vernon Chwe." You hear Mingyu's voice fill the room, making you jump as Hansol smiles. He winks at you, before making a shooing motion with his hand.

"Get outta here, Y/N. And I want that damn column on the desk before Monday at six, you hear me?" He points the new lollipop at you, and you ignore the way your cheeks heat as Mingyu's arm drapes around your shoulders and he bids Hansol goodbye. You flip Hansol the bird as he makes kissing faces at you, Mingyu pulling you towards the door of the office.

"How was your day?" He asks as the door closes behind you, the chill of the November air piercing through your thin cardigan and making you regret the short skirt you chose earlier that day. You roll your eyes, opening your mouth to tell him to cut it out with the small talk – when his fingers pluck the lollipop out from between your lips and plant it straight onto his tongue.

"Mingyu! You're so gross!" You gape at him, swatting his side as he giggles around the hard candy, scooting away from you. His arm that was around your shoulder falls to his side, before you notice the way he shrugs his jacket off his shoulders, making you hold your hands out in protest. "No. Keep it, it's cold." "You're shivering." He says matter-of-factly, and you try to ignore the forming green tint on his lips from your lollipop, your eyes flickering up to his with a feigned look of confidence.

"I'm in the presence of a collegiate football superstar and future architect of the coolest buildings in our city, forgive me for being a little excited." You huff dramatically as you feel his warm jacket being draped over your shoulders. A defeated sigh escapes from your lips as his hands rest on your shoulders, guiding you out of the Literature building and towards his old pick-up.

You remember when he got it, the powder blue paint job with white detailing being a choice from his father before he passed it down to Mingyu. It was a 1992 GMC Sierra 1500, and he was definitely too big to fit in the cab but he loved that old thing more than anything in this world. He learned how to drive in it when he was sixteen, and his father finally gifted it to him on his eighteenth birthday – you remember being half-awake, toothbrush still in your mouth when you started getting shaken like maraca when he came to pick you up for school the next morning. Your mom did not trust Mingyu to drive you both to school, but with Mingyu's puppy eyes comes a certain brand of begging that no one can say no to.

Granted, he almost crashed from excitement but you both made it safe and sound.

"Where are you taking me?" You ask suddenly, remembering nothing had been discussed the night he brought it up. He shrugged, opening the passenger side door and helping you into the bench seat. 

"Just relax, okay? It's, like, a twenty-minute drive." 

You struggle not to roll your eyes, settling into the felt cushion and sliding your tote onto the dash. You pop open his glove box, his collection of cassettes messily thrown in. You pluck out a random one, hearing him pry open his door and settle in his seat, the rickety door definitely needing a good wipedown with WD-40.

"Only you would have a cassette collection." You hold up his November Rain cassingle by Guns N' Roses, and he snorts inwardly. It was a senseless dig, because cassettes were all his car radio could read. It was either the cassettes or the staticky sound of the FM radio…so, pass.

"You're judging me, but I went out and found that En Vogue Funky Divas cassette for you. Remember, bidding on eBay is not good for you, sweetheart." He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out the still-wrapped cassette tape you'd fought some fifty-year-old woman for on eBay weeks prior. Your eyes widen, a huge grin spreading on your lips as you pluck it from his fingers, holding it to your chest.

"Oh, you love me, Kim Mingyu!" You squeal, and he rolls his eyes, reaching over you to buckle you in. You allow it, carefully peeling back the plastic wrap. Listen, you're a twenty-something in the twenty-first century, it's not that serious. (It is that serious, what did you fight that woman for if it wasn't to just keep it as a collector's item?)

"Hooked on Your Love should be side B." He says softly, shoving his key into the ignition as you crack open the plastic case. You nod, your smile still wide as you slip the cassette into the player, his hand moving to rest on your headrest as he backs out of his parking spot. 

You ignore the flutter in your stomach, before the sound of It Ain't Over 'Til The Fat Lady Sings fills the cab. You nod your head along to it, before glancing over at Mingyu and seeing a small bandage across his cheekbone. Your hand instinctively floats up to it, your fingers stroking his skin gently as he pulls up to a red light.

"What happened here, Gyu?" He looks at it in the rearview, his lip jutted in a pout. "Kiss it better and I'll tell." You snort, "Yeah, right." "I'm serious! I'm injured, oh, I'm so hurt." He feigns distress, clutching his chest just as the light turns green. You roll your eyes, forcing yourself to face forward. The sun is setting, the light hitting Mingyu's skin just right as you will your eyes away.

"Seriously, Gyu. Did you get hurt?" "Nah. It was Media Day, the stylist wanted something rugged. I didn't personally get it and she didn't explain how a singular bandage would convey that, but it's also not my expertise. I just let her do what she wanted." He shrugs, and you hum in response as he peels it off.

The silence between you, again, is comfortable.

But the growing knot in your stomach at his proximity, the smell of his cologne on his jacket surrounding you, the way the sun is making him look borderline fucking angelic – it's suffocating. You sigh inwardly, leaning your arm on the door and resting your head against your palm. You nod along to the music, your eyes scanning all the streets to see if you can figure out where Mingyu is taking you. He wasn't a secretive guy, but you couldn't ignore the roaring butterflies in your stomach at the idea that maybe he…had something planned.

Mingyu loved to plan things for the two of you to do. However, with your dedication to journalism, his practice and games and his studies – everything was far more sporadic and spontaneous. You didn't mind, you loved spending time with him in any way – but you were both sentimental people in the way that planning things you both knew you'd like was far more enjoyable.

You feel your cheeks burn at the realization that people weren't exactly wrong in assuming the two of you were a couple. You hated to admit it to yourself, because it was like giving into false hope and delusion. Sure, you were never going to think that you weren't enough for Mingyu – you were. At the end of the day, he is just a man. A man who picks his nose, probably.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Mingyu's voice tears you from your thoughts, ones so clouding that you didn't even realize the car had stopped moving, the ending notes of Hooked On Your Love playing through the cab. You pouted, before looking up at him and seeing the old arcade you used to frequent during freshman year. Your eyes widen, noticing that you're parked under the same old tree you always parked beneath.

"Gyu, we haven't been here since freshman year." "I know. I figured we could just have a good time because I'm not sure if I'll have time after the semifinals. Everyone's super pessimistic about the championships this year." He shrugs, killing the engine. You only nod along, clearing your throat as you realize how empty the parking lot is. For a Friday evening, that's unusual.

"Kind of empty, isn't it?" You mumble as he unlocks the door, not missing his smile in the side mirror as he slides out of his seat. You move to open your door, but he's already yanking it open, offering his hand to help you step down. Tugging your tote over your shoulder, you climb down and reluctantly pull your hand out of his as you shut the door.

"Did you know that museums pay you for displaying your work in their galleries?" He starts, draping his arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. You suck in a breath, a little too loud for your taste as you cough.

"Really? That's great, Gyu. I assume they shelled out a few hundred bucks, huh? I know I would for Apartment of a Lonely Soul. I'd display the shit out of that at my place." You scoff, wrapping your arm loosely around his waist. He hums, his fingers twirling in loose strands of your hair as you glance up at him. He has a mischievous smile playing on his lips as you both near the doors of the arcade. It's empty inside, making you dig your heels into the pavement.

"Gyu, maybe it's closed." You frown, but he raps his knuckles against the glass door in a pattern that reminds you of Hot for Teacher by Van Halen. You wait quietly, seeing your good friend Soonyoung turning the corner of the cashier's booth inside. He grins widely at you through the glass door, unlocking it quickly.

"Mingyu. Y/N." He greets, and you can't help but narrow your eyes as Mingyu pushes you forward through the threshold. He takes your bag off your shoulder and hands it to Soonyoung, who drapes it over his own shoulder before holding his hand out.

"You two…what did you do?" Your suspicion only makes Mingyu laugh, and you see him slide something, presumably money, into Soonyoung's hand before he turns his attention back to you. Soonyoung flips the sign to say CLOSED, the click of the lock making your eyes flit up to him. He only smiles, pocketing the money and strolling away, whistling the melody of Galaxy by Taeyeon.

"What do you wanna do first? Skeeball? Air hockey? Bowling?" Mingyu's hands on your shoulders are reassuring, the pads of his thumbs working soft circles into your trap muscles. You nibble on your lip, turning your head to look over your shoulder back at him.

"Did you rent this place out with the money the museum gave you?" You ask softly, trying to hide the subtle hint of disappointment in your voice. You had a horrible habit of insisting that Mingyu not spend money on you, something he brushed off time and time again. He peers down at you, a quirk in his brow as he smiles.

"Just pick a game, sweetheart."

You try not to show your increasing suspicion, your gut feeling telling you he's buttering you up for something as he guides you towards the bowling alley. The music playing in the arcade is louder than normal, and you try to focus on the sound of By Your Side by Sade playing through the speakers.

"Have they always played Sade? Last time we were here, I swear they were playing, like, Cascada and Keri Hilson." You look up at Mingyu, who just rolls his eyes as he makes you sit down on a bench in front of the bowling alley, kneeling in front of you and yanking your shoes off.

"You always focus this much on things that are so minuscule? We're at an arcade, alone. No lines, no screaming, no odd Dorito-Eating, Mountain-Dew drinking, Piña-Colada-Vaping gamers fighting us for our spot in the Galaga queue." He makes it all sound so magical, like the two of you didn't get a bunch of sixteen year olds kicked out several times the last few times you visited the arcade.

"Gyu–" "Just chill, okay? And if I have to guilt trip you, I will. I'm not above it." He says pointedly, slipping the bowling shoes over your socked feet as you huff. You cross your arms as he ties the laces, before his warm hands splay across your knees. He smiles as your legs jerk at the sudden contact, before giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Now, beat me in two frames and I'll get us tickets to that furry convention that I know you're going to want to write a piece about." He stands, tugging you up from the bench and towards one of the alleys.

And it's easy. It's so easy to forget everything when you're with Mingyu, watching the way his shoulders tense under the tight black t-shirt he's wearing as he swings his ball back perfectly. The way his thick thighs are hugged by the slim fitting jeans he was wearing, the black watch on his wrist distracting you from the way his fingers slid easily into the bowling ball…

You don't manage to beat him in two frames, or three. Or four.

You don't win a single game, your brain entirely too distracted by just how couple-y this all seemed. How boyfriend-like Mingyu was acting, as he took you all over the arcade. He didn't ever go easy on you, beating you in game after game – air hockey, three games of Street Fighter II. He even managed to scam you out of the few coins you managed to get out of the coin pusher, before pulling you over to the Skee-ball machines.

"If you lose, you're buying dinner." He says pointedly, gathering the wooden balls in his hand as you gape up at him.

"This is so fucking unfair, Mingyu! You literally play football!" You stomp your foot like a petulant child, only making him laugh softly.  "But if I offer to go easy on you, you'll complain. So which is it? Do you want me to have a filling dinner or do you want to win the weasel way?" He tilts his head at you, brow cocked high on his face as you scoff, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders and shoving it into his chest, grabbing the balls from his hands. He slides the jacket on with a grin, watching the way you count the balls with your eyes. 7..8..9…Before looking up, your lip jutted out in a pout. "No way you just called me a weasel, Kim Mingyu." "Yes way. What're you gonna do about it, weasel?" He flicks the tip of your nose, making your brows furrow as you push past him to stand in front of the lane. He leans on Mrs. Pac-Man, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets as he watches you carefully. Your shoulders are too tense as you land a ball in the 40 zone, your elbows too stiff as another gracefully slips off the edge of 30 into the 10 when you turn around.

"Stop staring at me, I can feel the heat of your eyes on my back."

"Wasn't looking at your back, sweetheart." He chides, making you scoff and turn back around, rotating your wrist as you assume position. He steps forward slightly, sliding his arm around your waist and tilting you forward a bit. He feels your back stiffen as you suck in a breath, almost like he scared you.

"Mingyu!" Almost.

"You're too tense. This is a game of grace, Y/N. Just relax." He murmurs, his other hand wrapping loosely around your wrist. You can feel his hips pressed against you, but it's fully innocent – aside from where your mind goes. He swings your arm back before pushing it forward and you let the ball slip from your fingers. You're grimacing as you watch it, feeling your lips twitch as it falls perfectly into the 100 zone.

"You just got lucky."  You mutter, feeling his chest move against your back as he laughs. "Yeah? Just luck, huh?" Your breath hitches as his hits the back of your neck, and you curse yourself internally as he drums his fingers on the expanse of your belly. Swatting his hand away, you push him back but he doesn't move away. In fact, his arm around you tightens, pulling you slightly closer as you twist your head to look up at him.

"Then those hundred points should count in my favor, shouldn't they?" You gape up at him, his smile all too warm and inviting as he winks at you, his finger coming to your chin and manually closing your mouth. "Focus, sweetheart."

He turns your face back to the lane, and you huff out a breath. "This feels like that meme of a broke guy holding onto his girlfriend while she pays for his shit." "I hold you all the time, it's never bothered you before." He shrugs behind you, and you feel him settle his chin on your shoulder as his other arm wraps around you, linking his fingers above your navel. You can't help but roll your eyes, the action the only thing keeping you grounded as you reluctantly swing the rest of the balls in. 50, 40, 40, 30, 10.

"Last one." He whispers, his fingers lightly squeezing the softness of your belly between them. You squirm, elbowing his ribs lightly. "Get away from me! I'm going to lose if you keep doing this." You whine, and he only giggles as he slides his arms away from around you. Huffing, you smooth your shirt and shake yourself off, assuming your position in front of the lane and swinging your arm back in the perfect slope for a 100…

…When you feel Mingyu's fingers poke at your sides, making you squeal and the ball goes barreling into the 30 zone.

"Mingyu!" You push his arm lightly as he laughs, grabbing your wrist to stop you from landing a smack to his shoulder. He pulls you into him, and you feel your stomach flip as you slap his chest.  "You've been hanging out with Jeonghan, haven't you? And you have the nerve to call me a weasel?!" "You would've lost anyway, sweetheart. You've got 350 points on the roster, there's no way you're not buying dinner." He taunts you, his nose mere centimeters from yours as he smiles. You're silent, the proximity far too much to even let out a breath when you feel your lips twitch into a scowl.

"You're not playing fair, Gyu." "You're cute, honey. Now watch this." He lets you slip from his grasp, slipping another quarter into the game and receiving his share of the wooden balls. And you, like an idiot – watch him. You watch him land 100 after 100, only once landing in the 50 zone. 850 points, 950 if you count the ones he got for you. He looks over his shoulder, eyes peering down at you with a glint you can't place as you cross your arms.

"I think I'd like to try that new place on Sixth Street." He says proudly, making you scoff in disbelief as he throws his arm over your shoulders. You shove him away lamely, only feeling his fingers pinch your cheek as he cooed. "Don't be such a sore sport, Y/N. Skeeball is not your forte." "Neither are any of these other games, apparently." You grumble as he leads you through the arcade, his thumb lightly rubbing back and forth on your jaw. He hums, pulling you into him impossibly closer.

"You wanna win something?" He asks gently, and you shake your head. You can almost hear him smiling, because you're not looking up at him, no fucking way – when he tilts your jaw up to face him. "C'mon. What do you want to play? Pac-Man?" "No." "Space Invaders?"

"No." "Oooh, Sunset Riders?"

"Mingyu." You rolled your eyes as he leaned against one of the air hockey tables, keeping you close. Your lip was jutted in a pout, making him laugh softly as he enveloped you in a hug. Your hands pushed against his torso in an attempt to push him away. He sucks his teeth, looking down at you. Your eyes look guilty, and you can feel it sinking into your stomach as he analyzes you. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but you know the words that come out aren't what he's thinking.

"Tell you what, we can take pictures in the photobooth and I'll buy dinner." You hate how you instantly light up, your hands now fisting the fabric of his shirt as he rolls his eyes, not bothering to hide his smile. "See? How aren't you a weasel when you make me feel bad and now I'm the one paying for dinner?" "You said it yourself, pretty girls never pay." You reply smugly, your lips stretching into a smile as he scoffs. However, it seems like the world stills as he smooths your hair down, thumbing at your earrings – a pair he got you ages ago for your birthday – and mumbling.

"I did say that, didn't I?" He nods, before seemingly snapping out of whatever trance he was in and pushing off the air hockey table. You stumble back a bit, but your grip on his shirt is enough to keep you upright as his arm tightens around your waist. "Easy, pretty. Need you in one piece for these photos." "And dinner!" You manage to stutter out, making him shake his head as he pulls you near the booth. The two of you see Soonyoung and his coworkers lounging around the cashier's booth, casually chattering while passing around a baby blue dab pen. Neither you nor Mingyu say anything, but neither does Soonyoung as he catches your eye – and he makes kissing faces at you. 

Enough that you stick your tongue out at him, the feeling of Mingyu's fingers sliding between yours is the only thing that brings you back to reality. The photobooth had been much bigger the last time you came here – or maybe Mingyu had been much smaller? He takes up over ¾ of the bench inside, and you scoff. "Where am I supposed to sit?" Mingyu glances up at you, shrugging as he pats his thigh. "Hop to." "Yeah right, Gyu. Make yourself smaller." "I'd make the booth bigger if I could, Y/N. Just not possible." He speaks as if he really cares that the two of you have outgrown the photobooth meant for children, shrugging his shoulders before patting his leg again. "C'mon, pretty." You sigh, making the mistake of looking over your shoulder at Soonyoung. He just smiles, wiggling his brows as he takes a rip from the pen before handing it to Minghao. Mingyu holds his hand out, and you take it to steady yourself before pulling the curtain closed (much to Soonyoung's dismay.) You barely perch on his leg, smoothing your skirt slightly when he snakes his arm around you and pulls you down on his thigh fully, scooting you up higher.

"Act like you know me, will you?" He teases, before his hand comes to sweep the hair out of your eyes. "Ready? Need lip gloss?" You grimace, crossing your arms as he tucks a stray curl behind your ear. "Did you just call me crusty?" 

"No, but I did find your lipgloss in my car. It's in my pocket, the MyMelody one?" He shrugs, pushing your hair back over your shoulder and looking into the camera. You hesitate, before holding your hand out. "Give it here." "Is that how you ask?" "Can I please have my lipgloss that I bought with my six dollars at Daiso? Pretty please, Kim Mingyu, football superstar and future architect of my home because I'm your best friend and you love me?" Your monotone voice makes him bite back his laughter, his hand sliding into his jean pocket with ease before pulling out your lip gloss. You eagerly snatch it out of his hand, screwing the top open and pressing the applicator to your lips in the camera.

If you looked just an inch to the left, you would've seen Mingyu admiring you.

"Ready now, Miss Diva?" He squeezes your hip lightly, and you smack your lips together before shoving the lipgloss in his jacket pocket and nodding.

"Yep! What pose? Smile first?" You press the camera button quickly, and he nods. You lean back a bit, your head pressed to his slightly as you both smile. The camera counts down from eight, and takes the picture as you feel your cheeks start to hurt. "Remember that photo your mom has of us? Where you're winking and I'm holding up a peace sign over your eye?" He reminisces fondly as the camera begins counting down, and you snort before nodding, humming an alright.

The two of you pose for the camera again, your chest warming at his kissy-face on the screen. The camera flashes, and you look back at him, only to see him already holding up half a heart sign with his hand. You meet it, smiling in the camera again – only to see him smiling up at you.

"Mingyu, look at the camera." You say through gritted teeth, and he does so almost reluctantly, resting his temple on your shoulder as he smiles softly. The camera flashes for the last time, and you hear the strips print on the outside. You uncross your legs, pulling the curtain open to see Minghao sweeping in front of the cashier's booth as Soonyoung crunches numbers over the calculator, a pencil in his hand quickly scribbling on his yellow legal pad. You duck out, grabbing the strips as Mingyu follows suit. You hold one up to him as you analyze yours, your heart slightly sinking at how much of a couple you guys look like. Tonguing your cheek, you run your thumb over Mingyu's face, before glancing up and seeing him looking down at you.

"Don't like them, huh?" He says defeatedly, and you shake your head quickly. "No, no! I love them." You say softly, before shrugging your shoulders a bit. "I guess it's just odd that we look so much like a couple. No wonder people think we're dating." He nods inwardly, tucking his strip into his back pocket before stuffing his hands into his jacket pocket. "Is that bad? To look like a couple, I mean?" "Considering that we've been best friends since I shoved you on the playground twenty something years ago? I'd say so." You state, and he snorts. You miss the way he tongues his cheek as he leads you over to Soonyoung and Minghao, who both smile slightly at you. "So? How was it, to have the entire arcade to yourself?" Minghao leans against the cashier's booth, his eyes slightly red from the dab pen. You roll your eyes with a smile as Soonyoung lifts your tote bag over the counter. "Glad you guys got paid to stand here. Kind of nice and calm when someone rents out the entire place, huh?" You wiggle your brows, tugging your tote over your shoulder and slipping your photo strip into it. 

Soonyoung nods, "It's nice to watch two idiots play a bunch of games that are rigged and somehow still win. I still have no idea how you understand those coin pushers." "Elementary, my dear boy!" You smile widely, and Mingyu taps the counter with a small smile. "Thanks, guys. I owe you one." He says softly, and both of the men behind the counter return the smile. Minghao follows closely behind as you both say your goodbyes, unlocking the door to a bunch of teenagers who are impatiently waiting with skateboards in their hands.

"Sorry, guys. We're closed." Minghao says as Mingyu instinctively grabs your hand, pulling you in front of him. You both worm out of the door as one of the teenagers scoffs.

"So dude and his girlfriend here can go in but we can't? Come on, we've been waiting for two hours!" The kid sneers, the group behind him making noises of agreement as you laugh inwardly. Minghao rolls his eyes, sighing as he calls over his shoulder for Soonyoung.

"You guys have a good night, okay?" He waves you off as Soonyoung pops up behind him, the two of you walking towards Mingyu's truck in the moonlight. Your shoes crunch a few leaves as you hear the gaggle of teenagers slip into the arcade, Soonyoung flicking the sign over to say OPEN as you make it to the car. "Thanks for tonight, Gyu. Even if I was a sore loser, I missed spending time with you like this." You admit softly as you both round the passenger side of the truck, his hand reaching for the handle with a shrug. "No big deal. I love hanging out with you, it's like number two on my hierarchy of needs. Second only to the absolute need to beat you at every game ever." He jerks the door open, offering his hand for support as you climb in. He smiles at you, "Still up for dinner? I really do want to try that new place, they have a drive-thru and we can stargaze or something." "Yeah, I'm down. I'll pay my share with the two coins you didn't scam me out of earlier." You roll your eyes as he only grins wider, shutting the door and rounding the car. You open the glove compartment again, fishing out Sade's Love Deluxe cassette as he jumps into his seat. He cranks the ignition without another word, buckling his seatbelt in as you trade the cassettes out. The ride is once more filled with comfortable silence aside from Sade's comforting voice seeping through the speakers. You find yourself sitting slightly closer to Mingyu than you had on the ride to the arcade, but it seems neither of you really care as he swiftly maneuvers the streets, pulling into the drive-thru for the new burger place everyone in your town had been raving about.

"What do they have?" You ask softly, unbuckling your seatbelt and leaning over Mingyu's lap. The attendant blinks at you, the warm smile on her face only deepening as Mingyu's hand hovers over your waist. "We have a really good swiss and mushroom burger if you'd like to try it? It comes with caramelized onions and the bun has garlic butter brushed on top! It can get super messy but it's borderline orgasmic." She nods her head, and you glance up at Mingyu, who is biting back his laughter at her animated persona. You roll your eyes, your hand resting on his knee as you shake your head.

"You still got those mints in the glove box?" You ask, making him snort as he looks over at the attendant. "Can we get two of those? Are your fries any good? Be honest." His hand splays across your hip, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of your skirt as you continue leaning into him. The attendant assures him that yes, our fries are great! "Care to add a milkshake? We often get couples like you guys asking for one to share, it's adorable." She beams, and you open your mouth to speak before Mingyu talks over you.

"Do you want one?" His fingers squeeze your hip, and you can't find any words so you just nod dumbly, the attendant rattling off flavors when Mingyu speaks again. "Vanilla is fine, she's one of those people that dips her fries in it." "You guys are so cute!" You can't bring yourself to say anything, and you feel your cheeks heat as Mingyu clears his throat and mumbles a thank you before fishing his wallet out to pay the girl. She bids the two of you a good night before sending you down the drive-thru, and you can't move from your spot damn near on top of Mingyu.

"I'm sorry if she made you uncomfortable by saying that." He murmurs, and you shake your head slightly, squeezing his knee. "Nah, don't worry about it. It was kinda cute, she seemed really excited about it." You force a laugh, before feeling Mingyu pat your hip. 

"It's okay, Y/N. You don't have to pretend like you're okay with it. We're friends, yeah? That's all we'll ever be." You don't know why your chest tightens at the words that fall from his lips, but you only hum in response as you slink away from him. His hand on your hip brushes across your back as you make it to the window, another attendant smiling brightly as she hands your food out. "You guys are so cute! Date night?" "Ah, we're not together." Mingyu replies quickly, and you nod as the girl gives you a glance. A hint of something, maybe pity, in her eyes. It makes your stomach turn as you take the bag of hot food from Mingyu.

"You should be." She hands Mingyu the milkshake for you, and you take it from him as you give her a sad smile in return. She bids you both a good night, and Mingyu repeats it as you steal a fry from the bag and wave. He drives back into the street as you sneak another, before he glances at you.

"Yah! If you're going to sneak fries, at least do it with your seatbelt on!" He swats at you, crumpling the bag shut as you reach for the seatbelt and tug it on. You reach for the bag again as you click it in place, offering him one as he makes a left turn. He takes it between his teeth, the music playing softly as he speaks again. "There's a cliff that oversees the city. It's lowkey haunted but I like it a lot. Wonwoo found it sophomore year when he and Hansol got too high, he called me telling me he felt like he was going to fall off the Earth." You laugh, nodding along. "I remember, because you practically banged my door down trying to get Hansol inside when you've always had a key." "I couldn't find it! And it was three in the morning after the semi-finals, I was so tired I'm not even sure how I drove around for so long looking for them." He shakes his head, taking another turn before the road becomes carved dirt and gravel. He does a u-turn, parking on the cliff so the bed of the truck is facing the overview of the city. You snag one last fry before Mingyu rolls his eyes, turning the truck off with a sigh, before glancing over at you.

"C'mon, let's go sit." The two of you climb out of his side of the car, his hands carefully grasping your hips to help you down. He grabs the milkshake for you as you plop the bag of food into the bed of the truck, before climbing into it by nestling your foot on the tire and swinging your leg over the wheel arch panel. You stretch as he does the same, when you hear the thwip of him shaking off the blanket the two of you kept back here for nights like this. You fluff one of the odd cushions thrown in from random thrift store stops, waiting as Mingyu spreads the blanket across the metal of the bed before throwing the cushion down.

"Sit." He says, popping his old cooler and fishing out a bottle of water. "In case you choke." "You wish I would, don't you? You'd get all my belongings." You roll your eyes, taking the lid off the milkshake and resting it on the wheel arch panel. The two of you dig through the bag in silence, and you unwrap the wax paper from the thickest, greasiest burger you'd ever seen. You inhale deeply, your head lightly hitting the rear window as you sink your teeth into it.

"Holy shit." You groan, your eyes fluttering shut as you chew around thick mushroom bits, the sweetness of the onions coating your tongue as you look over at Mingyu – who is just shaking his head with a grin as he unwraps his own.

"Good?" "Fucking amazing, Gyu."

He seemingly agrees, a noise similar to a moan erupting from his throat as he sinks his teeth into the burger. You smile to yourself, fishing a fry out of the bag as he crosses his ankles. Neither of you say anything as you eat, and you wind up moving the milkshake between the two of you when he gestures one of his fries towards it, the last bite of his burger stuffed into his cheek. "I have a question." He speaks and you grimace.

"Swallow that first."

He rolls his eyes, doing as you say before turning back to face you. You reach out to his face with a napkin in your hand, wiping at the corner of his lip before shoveling the last of your burger into your mouth. "Why not me?" He asks, resting his head on the rearview window, and you stop chewing almost abruptly. You cough around your food, forcing yourself to swallow and take a sip of the water bottle he gave you. "What?" "I mean, it would work, wouldn't it? We've been friends since we were kids. I've seen you in almost every stage of life. We hang out constantly, we're like chopsticks. I'm never seen without you, and vice versa. So, why not me?" He shrugs, and you gape slightly.

"Mingyu, I don't think you're thinking very straight right now. I mean, again, we've been friends our entire lives. Why would we risk ruining that?" You mumble, not looking at him as he sighs.

"Is it ruining it? Are you saying you've never thought about it? The comments don't get to you?"

You look up to see him already staring at you, a quizzical look on his features as he scans you. He seems…tired. Mingyu never looks tired.

"I…Mingyu, I don't know. I guess? I mean…it's weird, isn't it? You've literally held my hair when I've thrown up. You've seen me so drunk I've done cartwheels down the street barefoot." You run a hand through your hair, a humorless laugh slipping through his lips before he sighs.

"I've also seen you graduate high school with me. I've seen you grow up, every single birthday I've been right there. I've stuck by your side my entire life, and that's never been out of anything but love for you. Whether or not it remains platonic is up to you." He looks away, looking up at the moon before clicking his tongue. "I've been in love with you for six years now." 

You swear the entire world stops spinning at that moment. No cicadas chirping, no birds flying, hell, even you've stopped breathing. He keeps talking.

"It sounds like bullshit, especially when I've dated other girls. I guess a part of me thought that if I diverted from the feelings, if I ignored them and tried to redirect them, they'd go away. It was definitely a stupid thing to do, because I've hurt people along the way. I should've been honest from the beginning, maybe your direct rejection would've made getting over you easier and things would be different now." He shrugs, and you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. He glances at you, "You should take that." You pull it out, seeing Hansol's contact flashing across the screen. Groaning, you answer it and put it on speaker.

"What, Sol?" "Damn, my bad. I heard from a little bird that you went on a date with Mingyu."

Your eyes widen, and Mingyu runs his tongue over his teeth as he shakes his head. He scoffs, and you open your mouth to speak when your roommate pipes up again.

"Have you told him you're in love with him yet?"  His head snaps up, and you groan, squeezing your eyes shut when Hansol speaks again. "Hello? Did you tell him yet or not, Y/N?"

"You just did, Sol. Fuck, I'll see you later." You don't wait for him to respond before you hang up, carelessly tossing the phone across the bed of the truck as you rub your face with your hands. You bring your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and leaning your head back against the window. He hums. "How long?" 

You sigh, nibbling on your lip as you peer at him through your lashes. He doesn't smile, doesn't offer you any comfort in his face as you rake your eyes over his features. Strong brows, soft eyes that have never held anything but support and love for you. Pink lips that spread over that perfect set of teeth every time he saw you, pink lips that mocked you and taunted you.

"Unless it's not true." He shrugs, tossing the trash from dinner into the bag it came in. You don't say anything as he moves it from between the two of you, opting to turn to face you. He crossed his legs, resting his hands in his lap. "I think a part of me always knew." You mumble, and he nods. His eyes are patient, thumbs twiddling in his lap as you sigh. "Yeah. I always knew, I just didn't want to come to terms with it. That's why Daewon and I broke up, you know." "Fuck that guy, he sucked anyway. And he's a ball hog, he can't fucking pass to save his life." Mingyu scoffs, making you smile inwardly. "Yeah, he does suck. But he was there, and he was a good distraction. We're both guilty in that sense, you and I. Something about hurting people along the way." You pull at a loose thread in the blanket, and Mingyu hums.

"We don't have to do anything about it if you don't want to." You peer at him through your lashes, tapping your foot lightly. "You don't?" He sighs, shrugging his jacket off to stretch his arms over his head. You follow the movement, your eyes glued to the muscle of his arms being pulled taut under his t-shirt. He leans his head back on the rear window, and you will yourself to scoot closer. He glances down at you, eyes full of defeat.

"Why didn't you tell me?" "Why didn't you?" "Touché." He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a mint. He holds it out to you, and you take it gently as he takes another out for himself. He doesn't say anything as he unwraps it, but you attempt to make a joke anyway.

"Telling me my breath stinks, aren't you?" He snorts as you pop the mint into your mouth, and lean your head on his shoulder.

"So does mine, so I guess we're even. Plus, you asked if I still had mints." You chuckle as he reaches for your water bottle, taking a sip before he sighs again.

"So, what now? We just live with it?"

You put your chin on his shoulder silently, looking at him as he turns to face you. You don't miss how his eyes flicker to your lips, before he speaks again. "What if it doesn't work? What if–" "I don't plan for the negative parts of life." You interrupt, switching the mint from side to side. "And I don't know why you're even allowing it to seep in, that's not like you." He scoffs as his cheeks turn pink, your hand reaching for his jacket. You pull it off his lap, wrapping it around your shoulders as you swing your leg over his thighs. His hands dart to your waist to steady you, and you sit comfortably on his lap. Resting your head on his chest, you hum.

"Why tonight?" His hands wrap around you, pulling you slightly higher on his lap as he sighs. You look up at him, the blush on his cheeks only deepening as he looks away. "You have to promise me you won't laugh."

You snort, making him huff as you let the jacket slide down your shoulders, bunching around your hips. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you coo at the pout on his lips before nodding. "I promise."

"I was jealous." He mutters, and your fingers card through the hair at the nape of his neck. "I was jealous and it was impulsive but I don't regret it. I would blow any amount of money if it meant I get to spend time with you like this. I'd sell my soul if I had to." "Jealous? Of what?" He huffs, not meeting your eyes until you slide your hand onto his jaw, your thumb stroking his cheek gently. "C'mon, Kim. Tell me." "Don't call me that." He grumbles, and you can't bite back your smile as his eyes continue to avoid yours.

"What do I call you? Mingyu? Gyu? Baby?" You're taunting him, your hands holding his face in place as you brush your nose to his. "Mine?" His eyes flicker up to yours, the pout deeper still. "Yeah. That one." "Mine?" "Yours." "Maybe. Spill your beans, first." You pinch his cheek, making him roll his eyes.

"You said you were going to write the Spotlight of the Season for Chan." He murmurs into his chest, and you bite back the beginning of a laugh that starts to bubble up when he pouts. "I want you to spend time with me. You have to interview for hours for those pieces and that means he can make you laugh and smile and have your attention. I don't like it." The laughter you once felt in your belly dissipates, Mingyu's arms tight around your waist as you cup his face in your hands. He looks up at you, eyes wide and slightly watery as you swipe your thumbs under them.

"Mingyu, I spend all of my free time with you." "It's not enough. I need to live in your skin." "That's terrifying?" You snorted, letting out a short laugh as Mingyu buried his face in your neck.

"You said you wouldn't laugh." He whines, his lips brushing against your skin. You try not to jolt in his lap, his arms only tightening around your waist. "Stop laughing!" "I'm not, I'm not laughing! I promise." You pat his shoulder, before pulling his head back by his hair. "That's actually really cute. A little scary, the bit about living in my skin, but I understand."

His eyes scan your face, trying to find a hit of deceit. You lean forward, pressing your forehead against his. "Breath check." "Y/N–" "Nope, we've been doing this since we were teenagers. Does my breath stink?" He rolls his eyes, "No, Y/N. It doesn't."

You nod, before brushing your lips against his. His eyes widen, and he's pulling your hips flush to his as you smile. "No, no, no. Please kiss me, please." "So cute." You mumble, pressing your lips to his. He whimpers softly, the grip on your hips bruising as he kisses you back, his lips perfect and soft and addicting against yours. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you nip at his lower lip, a low groan from his chest as you slip your tongue into his mouth. You melded together perfectly, his every breath matched yours, the taste of the mint coating your tongue mixed with something just so Mingyu.

His warmth, his attention to detail. The way he teases you so lovingly, the way his hands make you feel like you're on fire even with the most innocent of touches. His soft sounds pouring into your mouth like honey, the way you can feel how hard he's trying to hold himself back from melting into you until he's had his fill.

And you hope he never does get his fill.

"Wait, wait."

Mingyu fights himself to pull away from your lips, and you can feel his heart thundering in his chest as he pushes you away. He looks a bit dazed, his thumb reaching to wipe the corner of your mouth from leftover lipgloss. You feel a bit of worry settle in your stomach, your hands moving to rest on his stomach as you nibble on your lip.

"Sorry, was that too much? I'm–" "No, no. You're…you're perfect. I'm just…" He trips over his words, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against your chest. "I don't want to ruin this before it's even started." You actually laugh this time, running your fingers through his hair and pulling him away from you. "Bro, you could never ruin this. I'll always want you, Gyu." "First of all, don't call me bro ever again. I will cry." He furrows his brows, pushing your shoulder lightly. You stick your tongue out at him, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. He pouts, bringing your face closer to his before kissing your lips gently, feeling you smile into it as you nip at his lip.

"Second of all?" You murmur, and he blinks, pushing you back slightly.

Mingyu huffs, his fingers dancing across your bare thighs before he yanks your skirt down slightly. "It's late. Hansol is probably wondering where you are." "He's not my father, you know." "He's your roommate, it's courtesy."

"So…you're not going to take me back to your apartment tonight?" Your voice is soft, and Mingyu's eyes widen as you tug at the collar of his shirt. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out as your fingers move to tug the hem of his shirt out from under his jeans. His cheeks flush in the moonlight as he allows you to untuck his shirt, your fingers slipping under the soft fabric and tugging at his belt. 

"Y/N." "Just wanna see. Wanna feel you."

He rolls his eyes, his cheeks beet red as he lets you slip your hands up his shirt. You don't miss the way he shudders lightly as your fingers ghost over his skin. Pushing the fabric up, your eyes take in the expanse of his softly chiseled stomach, the dip between his pecs. You lean forward slightly, pressing your lips to the warm skin above his heart, earning a soft groan from Mingyu's throat.

"You're quite the temptress, you know." He murmurs, his hand moving to swipe your hair out of your face. You lean into his touch as he holds your face softly, his thumb toying with your bottom lip. You kiss it chastely, before he leans forward, capturing your lips with his.

His arm wraps around your waist as his hand tangles in your hair, holding you in place as he kisses you how he likes – slow, passionate, sloppy as he pushes your chest against his. Your arms wrap around his shoulders again, absently rolling your hips against his. Mingyu whines right into your mouth, only fueling the fire in the pit of your belly. 

"Y/N." He sighs against your lips, but it comes out more breathy than it usually would. You don't respond, kissing him as his fingers push the hem of your skirt up further and further up your thighs. You can feel your underwear start sticking to you uncomfortably as his hands circle your thighs, pushing you harder against his growing bulge before he suddenly pulls back from your lips. "We're in public. We could get caught." "Star football player caught fornicating with his girlfriend on Lovers' Peak. More at eleven." Mingyu scoffs, pinching your thigh playfully. "Girlfriend, huh?" "I don't kiss my friends, Mingyu." You say pointedly, before gesturing at his hands high on your thighs. "I also don't let my friends take my clothes off." He sighs, "You could at least let me ask you. You're half naked on my lap and we're not even in the privacy of my bedroom." "Then take me home, Mingyu." You roll your eyes, tugging on his shirt. "Take me home and we can figure this all out there." He eyes you, making your own give him an expectant look. 

"Will you spend the night?" "Yes." "Will I have to kick Wonwoo out?" "Yes."

You huff, tapping the watch on your wrist. You move to get up, but his hands on your thighs move to hold your hips, pulling you closer to him. Your hands grab his shoulders for balance, and he looks up at you with a shy smile on his lips. "Will you be my girlfriend? Please?" You grin, "Star Football player becomes an Omega on Lo-" "Nevermind." "No! Wait, please. I'll be your girlfriend, I will."

You kiss Mingyu before he can refute it, feeling his pout against your lips.

"Kiss me back, you twerp." "You called me an omega." "Would it be better if I said you're my omega?" You wiggle your eyebrows, and he scoffs, lightly smacking the outside of your thigh. From the blush on his cheeks, you can tell all is forgiven – but it doesn't stop you from kissing his cheek softly. "Take me home, baby."

"Y/N, I SAID I WAS SORRY. CAN'T YOU TELL HOW SORRY I AM?"

"You outed me to the love of my life." You mutter as you stuff your laptop back into your tote.

The weekend had passed, and you and Mingyu didn't have to worry about kicking Wonwoo out of the apartment – he'd actually gone on a date that night and spent the weekend at her apartment. Hansol obviously didn't question when you got home the next afternoon, but had been surprised at the deep frown on your face and how you avoided him through Monday afternoon.

"You're telling me Mingyu didn't feel the same?" Hansol's jaw dropped as you tongued your cheek, even bringing forth some tears. "No, Hansol." You grumbled, shoving your Spotlight of the Season paperwork into his hands. Hansol has a guilty look in his eyes as he groans.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Hansol is pouting as you finish packing up your bag, trying your hardest to bite back your laughter. You glance over your shoulder to see him unwrapping a lollipop and shoving it in his mouth before opening his laptop. Smirking to yourself, you make your best attempt as a discontented sigh, shoving your bag over your shoulder.

“You’ll get my rec letter in, right?” “Yes.” “And you’ll proofread my column by tonight?”

“That means taking this home, you know how I feel about that.” He mutters, tapping his fingers on the blank cover page of your paperwork. You give him a pointed look as you cross your arms over your chest.

“You take it home and do it, or I’m telling the landlord that it’s not actually our neighbor smoking all that weed.” You scoff, and he sighs.

“Bunny, I said I was sorry! How was I supposed to know he’d react that way? I mean, the guy is practically all over you anyway!” Hansol huffs, and you’re opening your mouth to speak when you hear someone clear their throat in the doorway of the office.

Hansol winces, and you glance over your shoulder to see Mingyu leaning against the doorframe. He’s wearing a tight, white shirt and your favorite black jeans on him, with a watch you gave him a few years ago as a high school graduation gift. His letterman is flung over his shoulder and he’s spinning a football in his other hand.

He raises his brow at the silent scene, watching as you skirt around the desk and yank open the drawer, stealing two lollipops. Hansol doesn’t even argue, just sighs as he cowers behind his laptop.

“Should I be concerned?” Mingyu asks you as you near him, and you shake your head as you hold a lollipop out to him. Hansol is peering over the top of his laptop as a confused Mingyu presses a kiss to your hairline — but it’s not enough to make him suspicious about the weekend itinerary.

“I want my column reviewed by the time I get home, Hansol.” “Y/N, this is agony. At this rate, you’ll be home before I am!” “Now you know how I felt! Get to it!”

Mingyu snorts, shaking his head as you skirt out of the office. He bids a gentle goodbye to the younger man, who only sighs in response.

“You’re awful to that kid, you know.”

You smile as you wrap your hand around his bicep, unwrapping your lollipop as you shrug. “He taunted me with my recommendation letter! He said if I didn't confess to you in seventy-two hours, he wasn’t going to send my letter and I’d miss my opportunity at a great internship, Gyu.”

“So you should be thanking him, because technically you haven’t confessed shit.”

“I’m your girlfriend, I think that's enough of a confession.”

“Mmh.” He nods, biting back his smile as he slides his hand into yours, squeezing softly. “What do you wanna do? Practice was canceled, I have no upcoming projects. Wonwoo’s asleep on the couch at home, though, so my place is off the table.”

You glance up at him, huffing out a laugh as you shake your head. 

“What makes you think I’m free?”

“It’s a Monday afternoon. You usually con me into buying you dinner, we eat in your bedroom. We watch movies before you kick me out because you say I snore.”

“Actually it’s because you sleep shirtless, and I was a wimp back then.”

Mingyu laughs heartily, letting go of your hand to ruffle your hair. You swat at his hand, scoffing as he wraps it around your shoulders and pulls you closer to him. You rest your head on the side of his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist as you look up at him.

“My place is free.”

“Mmh, maybe you can read me the Spotlight of The Season column you wrote about that guy.”

“Oh, that guy? You mean Kim Mingyu? God, that guy is so cool. Did you know he has omega eyes?” You feign excitement as you taunt him, making him roll his eyes and pinch your cheek.

“Tell me you didn’t put that in the column.”

“Are you crazy? Why would I expose my hot, sexy, cool boyfriend for being a down-bad simp? That’s just not fair to me, they already want you.”

“Yeah, well.” He sighs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as the parking lot comes into view, his old truck shining in the setting sun. “I only want you.”

You don’t respond, feeling your cheeks warm as you make your way to the parking lot. He opens your door as he usually does, but lingers as you climb up and put on your seatbelt. He gingerly takes the lollipop from your lips, making you roll your eyes as he silently asks for a kiss. You give in, you’re sure you always will give in to those puppy eyes and pouty lips — when he pulls away and steals your lollipop.

“Easy.” He smiles as he shuts your door, leaving you to sulk into your seat as he rounds the car. He hops into the driver’s seat, your green apple lollipop lodged between his lips as he cranks the ignition.

“Read the column, I want to know what you chose to put in.” He speaks again as he pulls out of his spot, and you snicker to yourself as you pull your phone out.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” 

You begin to read it calmly, ignoring the incessant buzzing of Hansol’s flooding messages.

NEW! Msg From: Sol ☀️👽 [4:32PM] dude [4:32PM] ur such a liar [4:33PM] i would say i hate u but im happy for u bro [4:34PM] i’m omw home tho 

Msg To: Sol ☀️👽 [4:35PM] find somewhere else to go 🫶🏼

NEW! Msg From: Sol ☀️👽 [4:36PM] bro

SPOTLIGHT OF THE SEASON — NO. 97, KIM MINGYU. BY Y/N Y/L/N.  FRIDAY, OCTOBER 10. 8-MINUTE READ | UPDATED: 5:39PM.

Author’s Note: Typically, I reserve the interview questions and responses for myself. However, I’ve decided to share this snippet in order to settle some rumors and ruffle a few feathers. I have also made this column a bit more personal, with the permission of my editor.

No. 97 on the field but No.1 in my heart — I love you, Kim Mingyu.

——————————————————————————————————

— INTERVIEW #53 —

Y: This is Y/N, starting Interview No.53 for Kim Mingyu, Spotlight column. Testing, one, two. KMG: Letting you know right now, I have to pee.

— INTERIM BREAK — 

— INTERVIEW #54 —

Y: This is Y/N, starting Interview No.54 for Kim Mingyu, Spotlight column. Testing, one, two. KMG: [laughter] Y: Hello, Kim Mingyu. Welcome back to the Hawk Review Committee. KMG: Has the interview part always been this awkward? Y: Suddenly I’m your girlfriend and you forget how to talk to me? KMG: Babe, don’t put that in. We have to hard-launch before it gets published on Friday. Y: Honey. I love you. KMG: Okay, just a little snippet. Y: [laughter] Okay. Can I at least make those cheesy puns football girlfriends make? KMG: [laughter] Your world, baby. I’m just living in it. I love you.

KIM MINGYU has long been the subject of my articles. Long-winded columns full of my affections, hidden behind words far too long to be understood by the average mind. A lot of readers would call it hyperbole, would call it ‘purple prose’, but I consider my pieces about Mingyu to be the most authentic works I’ve ever written. There is something about enjoying the information I am spreading — to talk about somebody I care about, to air his successes and see other people enjoy who he is. To walk around campus and understand that though Mingyu may be my best friend, he is also a friend to others. He is a helping hand, he is smart and thoughtful. 

In his college career, Kim Mingyu has made incredible Hawk history. He is the only quarterback to not be injured during a single game, and he and the Seoul Hawks are taking home the championship trophy come Saturday night. Be sure to buy your tickets from Jimin and Jungkook!

Kim Mingyu has been an inspiration to many, including myself. Take Apartment of A Lonely Soul: being displayed at the Museum of Arts, his piece has contributed to ending the stigma of allowing self-doubt to wallow in the mind and finding comfort in being alone and making decisions that may not seem feasible. I remember when I nervously asked him if he had submitted it to be displayed in the gallery — without a second thought, he replied: Why wouldn't I? 

Kim Mingyu's unshakeable confidence has always brought comfort to others. He has time and time again shown that he is reliable, a pillar in our community. He has shown up for me countless of times — whether it is to soothe my damaged ego or celebrate my milestones, he is always there for those he cares about. 

His mistakes are also something he takes in stride. He can admit when he is wrong and when he needs help — he’s come to my apartment for study nights that have left his head spinning. He called me when his car battery died on him last spring, and I walked six miles with our friends and jumper cables to wave down some random on the road. I remember how he made our friends sit in the bed of the truck, but sat me right next to him in the cab.

In tune with confidence, he wears his intelligence and care with pride. A true team player, a student that sets the standard and wonderful friend: there will never be another Kim Mingyu.

haologram © 2025 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[hsjazebel]

Meant to be

Summary: Y/N never expected a college party to change anything—until she met Harry. What starts as a quiet connection over books and movies slowly turns into something deeper, proving that some things are simply meant to be.

Wordcount: 32k+ (I have been carried away, sorry 😅)

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day! ♡ Here’s a little story about love finding you when you least expect it. Hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

Masterlist

— — —

The party was louder than she expected.

Y/N wasn’t sure why she had let Charlotte convince her to come. Maybe it was the way her roommate had pleaded, eyes wide with excitement, promising it would be “just for an hour.” Or maybe it was the fact that she had spent too many Friday nights curled up in bed while the rest of campus buzzed with energy.

She had thought, just for once, that maybe she should say yes.

But now, standing in the middle of the crowded living room, she regretted it.

The music thumped against the walls, the bass so deep she could feel it in her ribs. Laughter and voices blurred together in an endless hum, broken only by the occasional shout of someone calling out to a friend. The air was thick—too many people, too much perfume, too much heat.

She tugged at the hem of her sweater, suddenly self-conscious. She wasn’t dressed for this, not like the other girls in shimmering tops and short skirts. She had gone for comfort—jeans, a fitted top, her favorite oversized cardigan—but now she felt out of place, like she hadn’t read the unspoken dress code.

Charlotte had disappeared almost immediately, swallowed up by the crowd, probably off to find that guy she’d been texting. Y/N had tried to follow for a bit, but the sea of people made it impossible to keep up.

Now she was alone, pressed against the wall, holding a drink she hadn’t even sipped.

She exhaled, glancing toward the front door. Maybe she could just leave. Charlotte wouldn’t mind—she was too caught up in her own night.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted an open door leading to the balcony.

Without thinking, she headed for it, slipping outside and closing the door behind her.

Cool air washed over her, a welcome contrast to the stifling heat inside. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and leaned against the railing, her fingers wrapping around the cold metal. The city stretched out in front of her, distant lights flickering against the night sky. From here, the noise of the party was muffled, just a dull hum beneath the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle over her.

And then—

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

The voice was smooth, warm. British.

Her eyes snapped open.

Turning slightly, she found herself face to face with someone she recognized immediately.

Harry Styles.

Her breath hitched, just for a second.

She had seen him around before, of course. It was hard not to notice him. He wasn’t the typical loud, overly confident guy that thrived in these kinds of settings, but he had a presence that made people gravitate toward him anyway. Maybe it was the way he carried himself—calm, collected, always with an air of quiet amusement, like he was in on some inside joke no one else knew about.

Now, standing in front of her in the dim balcony light, he looked impossibly at ease.

His dark curls were pushed back messily, a few strands falling over his forehead. A pair of thin-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, framing sharp green eyes that studied her with quiet interest. His loose button-up was unbuttoned at the top, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the intricate tattoos winding down his forearms.

He held a drink casually in one hand, the other tucked into his pocket, like he had all the time in the world.

She swallowed.

“I—uh—yeah,” she finally managed. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

His lips quirked, as if her answer didn’t surprise him at all. “Figured as much.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And how exactly did you figure that?”

He took a slow sip from his drink before answering. “Well, for one, you’ve been out here for at least five minutes and haven’t checked your phone once.” His eyes flickered toward the door. “And two… you look like you’re trying to disappear.”

She huffed out a quiet laugh. “That obvious?”

Harry smirked. “A little.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city lights flickered in the distance, and the air between them felt charged—not uncomfortable, but something else entirely.

Then, he shifted slightly, turning more toward her.

“I’m Harry, by the way.”

She let out a small breath, amused. As if she didn’t already know.

“I know,” she admitted, then immediately winced. “I mean—everyone knows who you are.”

Harry chuckled, the sound low and warm. “That’s fair.” He tilted his head slightly. “And you are…?”

“Y/N.”

He repeated it, softer this time, like he was testing the way it felt on his tongue. Then, with a small smile, he extended his hand. “Well, Y/N, it’s nice to officially meet you.”

She hesitated for just a second before slipping her hand into his.

His palm was warm, his grip gentle but firm.

“Nice to meet you too, Harry.”

His fingers lingered a second longer than necessary before he let go.

He leaned his elbow against the railing, glancing at her thoughtfully. “So, if parties aren’t your thing… what would you rather be doing right now?”

She bit her lip, thinking. “Watching a movie, probably.”

Harry’s brows lifted slightly. “Anything in particular?”

She hesitated, then decided to be honest. “A romcom.”

His lips curled into a slow smile. “You like romcoms?”

She nodded. “I grew up watching them. Notting Hill, 10 Things I Hate About You, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days… I know they’re cheesy, but I love them.”

He studied her for a second, then let out a soft chuckle. “Cheesy doesn’t mean bad. Those are classics.”

She tilted her head. “Wait… you actually like them too?”

Harry smirked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Course I do. I mean, have you seen When Harry Met Sally? It’s got my name in it. That’s a sign, don’t you think?”

She laughed—really laughed, for the first time that night.

Harry watched her, his expression softer now, like he was pleased to be the reason behind it.

The conversation flowed easier after that. They debated over the best romcom of all time, exchanged favorite scenes, and argued about which movie had the most unrealistic yet satisfying ending. Somewhere in between, Y/N forgot about the party altogether.

But eventually, her phone buzzed in her pocket—Charlotte, probably looking for her.

She sighed, realizing she had to go.

Harry noticed. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah, I think so.” She hesitated, then, feeling unusually bold, added, “But… maybe next time, I’ll skip the party and just watch a romcom instead.”

His smile was slow, almost knowing. “Maybe next time, you won’t have to watch it alone.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

And as she stepped back inside, disappearing into the noise and the crowd, she couldn’t help but hope—just a little—that this was only the beginning.

———

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the sound of Charlotte’s voice.

“Well, well, well,” her roommate drawled, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “Look who’s finally awake.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face into the pillow. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” Charlotte said, walking over and flopping down onto the bed beside her. “And you have some explaining to do.”

Y/N peeked at her through one eye. “Explaining?”

Charlotte grinned, far too awake for this early in the morning. “Don’t play innocent with me. You disappeared at the party. And when I finally found you again, you looked… different.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “So spill.”

Y/N sighed, rolling onto her back. “There’s nothing to spill.”

Charlotte gasped dramatically. “Lies! I saw you talking to Harry Styles.” She poked Y/N’s side. “You—quiet, book-loving, avoider of all social gatherings—somehow ended up alone on a balcony with the most intriguing guy on campus.”

Y/N felt her face heat up. “It wasn’t like that,” she muttered.

Charlotte smirked. “Then what was it like?”

Y/N hesitated. The truth was, she wasn’t exactly sure.

“It was… nice,” she admitted after a moment. “We just talked.”

Charlotte studied her, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Talked? That’s it?”

Y/N nodded.

Charlotte huffed, flopping back against the bed. “You’re impossible.”

Y/N smiled, sitting up and stretching. “Did you at least have fun?”

Charlotte let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, absolutely. And I might have secured myself a coffee date with Mason.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Mason?”

“You know, Harry’s friend? Tall, kind of scruffy, ridiculously charming?” Charlotte waggled her fingers. “I think we have a connection.”

Y/N laughed softly. “I’m happy for you.”

Charlotte sat up again, her expression turning devious. “And speaking of coffee dates…”

Y/N’s stomach fluttered. “No.”

Charlotte pouted. “Come on! I think he likes you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We talked for, like, twenty minutes.”

Charlotte shrugged. “That’s plenty of time to make an impression. And if he really likes you, you’ll see him again.”

Y/N didn’t answer. Because the thought had already crossed her mind.

Would she see him again?

———

She did.

Three days later.

At the campus café.

Y/N had been curled up in a corner booth, a warm cup of tea beside her as she flipped through a book for class. The café was quiet, filled mostly with students studying or catching up on assignments. The hum of conversation and the occasional clinking of cups created the kind of atmosphere she loved—calm, steady, familiar.

And then, a shadow fell over her table.

“Y/N.”

She looked up.

And there he was.

Harry Styles, standing beside her table, a cup of coffee in one hand and a curious tilt to his head. He wasn’t wearing his glasses today, but she still recognized the quiet amusement in his eyes.

“Hi,” she said, feeling her heart pick up speed.

His lips twitched. “Mind if I sit?”

She hesitated for only a second before shaking her head. “Go ahead.”

Harry slid into the seat across from her, setting his coffee down. “Didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Alright, I might have hoped I would.”

Her stomach did an embarrassing little flip.

“What are you reading?” he asked, nodding toward the book in her hands.

She glanced down, suddenly self-conscious. “Uh, Wuthering Heights.”

His brows lifted, impressed. “Intense choice.”

She shrugged. “It’s for class, but I like it.”

Harry studied her for a moment, then leaned back in his chair, stretching out comfortably. “So, tell me—are you one of those people who think Heathcliff is romantic, or do you see him for the walking red flag that he is?”

Y/N blinked in surprise. “You’ve read it?”

He smirked. “I have.”

She bit her lip, eyeing him. “And?”

Harry sighed dramatically. “Look, I get the passion, the whole ‘soulmate across time and space’ thing, but let’s be honest—if Heathcliff were around today, he’d be sending late-night ‘u up?’ texts and brooding over his ex’s Instagram posts.”

Y/N let out a surprised laugh. “That is… disturbingly accurate.”

Harry grinned. “And you? Are you a Heathcliff apologist?”

She shook her head. “I think he and Cathy deserved each other—because no one else should have to deal with that level of drama.”

Harry chuckled. “Harsh, but fair.”

There was something about the way he looked at her—curious, amused, like he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. It made her stomach twist in a way she wasn’t used to.

A beat of silence stretched between them.

Then—

“So,” Harry said, breaking the moment, “you never told me your verdict.”

Y/N frowned. “My verdict?”

“The best romcom of all time.”

She smiled, relieved by the lighter topic. “That’s impossible to answer.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Alright. Then let’s make it simpler. What’s your go-to comfort movie?”

She thought for a second. “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.”

His eyes lit up. “Classic.”

She nodded. “It’s just fun, you know? The whole fake dating thing, the ridiculousness of it all. And Kate Hudson? Iconic.”

Harry smirked. “And the ‘You let it die!’ scene? A cinematic masterpiece.”

Y/N laughed. “Exactly.”

Harry studied her for a moment, then said, “I like that.”

Y/N suddenly felt warm under his gaze. She looked down, tracing the rim of her cup. “What about you?”

Harry pretended to think. “Mmm… Notting Hill.”

She grinned. “Oh, come on. You just like it because of the ‘I’m just a girl’ scene.”

He laughed. “Maybe. Or maybe I like the idea that two people from completely different worlds can still find their way to each other.”

Something about the way he said it made her stomach flutter.

The conversation drifted after that—talk of books, movies, little things that made them both feel at home. The more they spoke, the more Y/N felt that strange, unexpected ease settle between them.

And when she finally glanced at the time, she realized an hour had passed without her even noticing.

“I should probably get to class,” she murmured, closing her book.

Harry nodded, but didn’t look particularly eager to leave.

As she stood, sliding her bag over her shoulder, he tapped his fingers against the table. “So…”

She looked at him expectantly.

He smirked. “Movie night?”

Her heart skipped. “Are you asking me out, Harry Styles?”

His expression was all mischief. “Maybe.”

She bit her lip, pretending to consider. Then, feeling unusually bold, she said, “Okay.”

Harry’s smirk turned into something softer.

“Good,” he said.

And as she walked away, she could feel his eyes on her the whole time.

———

The library was quieter than usual.

Y/N liked it that way. She liked the solitude, the way the world seemed to shrink down to just her and the words on the page. It was calming—predictable.

What she didn’t expect, however, was a voice breaking through the silence.

“Didn’t peg you as the type to hide away in a library for fun.”

She looked up, already knowing who she would see.

Harry stood in front of her table, a familiar smirk on his lips, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He had a notebook tucked under his arm and a coffee in hand, looking completely at ease despite the way his presence sent her heart racing.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “And yet, here you are.”

Harry hummed, sliding into the chair across from her. “Touché.”

She watched as he set his coffee down and flipped open his notebook, as if he belonged there—like this was routine.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Are you actually here to study, or are you just bothering me for fun?”

Harry grinned. “Can it be both?”

She huffed, biting back a smile as she returned her gaze to her book. But she could still feel his eyes on her.

A beat passed before he spoke again. “Wuthering Heights, huh? Still brooding over Heathcliff?”

Y/N sighed, looking up. “You do realize I read more than one book, right?”

Harry’s smirk widened. “Do you, now?”

She rolled her eyes and turned the book so he could see the title.

His gaze flickered over the cover before he raised an eyebrow. “White Nights?”

Y/N tilted her head. “Surprised?”

Harry leaned back in his chair, studying her. “A little. Didn’t take you for a Dostoevsky kind of girl.”

“And what kind of girl did you take me for?” she challenged.

He smirked. “Jane Austen, maybe. Brontë sisters, definitely. But Russian literature? That’s a surprise.”

She shrugged. “I like stories about lonely people.”

Something flickered in his expression, but it was gone too fast for her to catch.

“Lonely people,” he repeated. “And here I thought you just liked tragic love stories.”

Y/N hesitated, then said softly, “Aren’t they the same thing?”

Harry studied her for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, in a voice quieter than before, he said, “I guess they are.”

Silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like something had shifted—like she had let him see a part of her she didn’t show to just anyone.

Then, after a moment, Harry’s lips twitched up into a smile. “So, is White Nights a re-read, or am I catching you in the middle of a first-time experience?”

She exhaled, grateful for the change in tone. “Re-read.”

His grin widened. “Interesting. That means you must really like it.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Are you about to judge my taste in books?”

Harry smirked. “Not at all. I was actually going to say… maybe I should let you convince me to read it.”

Y/N studied him. “You’ve never read it?”

“Not yet,” he admitted.

A small smile played on her lips. “Maybe you should.”

Harry’s eyes sparkled. “Maybe I will.”

———

That night, her phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number.

Unknown [9:07 PM]: So, lonely people, huh? Convince me why I should read White Nights.

Y/N frowned, staring at the screen. Who the hell—?

Y/N [9:08 PM]: Who is this?

A pause. Then—

Unknown [9:08 PM]: Wow. That hurts.

Her heart skipped.

She squinted at the message, then at the number, but it wasn’t saved in her contacts.

Y/N [9:09 PM]: Seriously. Who is this??

A few seconds passed before a reply popped up.

Unknown [9:09 PM]: It’s Harry.

She blinked.

Then—

Y/N [9:10 PM]: …How did you get my number?

Harry [9:11 PM]: Your lovely roommate gave it to me.

Y/N groaned out loud. “Charlotte!”

Across the room, Charlotte barely glanced up from her laptop. “Hmm?”

Y/N waved her phone in the air. “Did you seriously give Harry my number?”

Charlotte smirked. “Oh. So he finally texted you?”

“Charlotte.”

“What?” she said innocently. “He asked, and I figured it would take you forever to do it yourself.”

Y/N let out a long, dramatic sigh, turning her attention back to the screen.

Y/N [9:12 PM]: I hate you.

Harry [9:12 PM]: No, you don’t.

She rolled her eyes.

Y/N [9:13 PM]: Maybe you should read it and see for yourself.

Harry [9:14 PM]: Bold of you to assume I have time for Russian literature.

Y/N [9:15 PM]: Bold of you to assume I’d let you borrow my copy.

Harry [9:16 PM]: So possessive. I like it.

Y/N [9:17 PM]: You’re impossible.

Harry [9:17 PM]: And yet, here you are, still texting me.

She bit her lip, trying not to smile.

Harry [9:18 PM]: You still good for our not-date movie night?

Y/N’s stomach flipped.

Y/N [9:19 PM]: You mean the highly academic film screening of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days?

Harry [9:20 PM]: Exactly. For research purposes.

She hesitated, fingers hovering over the screen.

Y/N [9:21 PM]: Yeah. I’m still in.

His reply came almost instantly.

Harry [9:21 PM]: Good.

She stared at the word for a long time, ignoring the way her face felt impossibly warm.

———

“You’ve checked your phone three times in the last minute.”

Y/N shot Charlotte a glare from across the room. “I have not.”

Charlotte smirked, finishing the last touches of her makeup. “You so have.”

Y/N huffed, locking her phone and tossing it onto the bed like that would somehow make her friend drop the topic. “I’m just checking the time.”

“Mm-hmm.” Charlotte turned, arms crossed. “Because, of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that Harry is coming over.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her face felt warm. “It’s just a movie night.”

Charlotte grinned. “And yet, you’ve changed your sweater twice.”

Y/N groaned, flopping back onto her pillows. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Charlotte grabbed her bag, checking her reflection in the mirror. “I think it’s cute that you’re all flustered over him.”

“I’m not flustered.”

Charlotte raised a brow. “You are so flustered.”

Y/N groaned again, covering her face with a pillow.

A knock at the door made her sit up way too fast.

Charlotte smirked knowingly. “That’s my cue.”

Y/N watched as Charlotte opened the door, revealing Harry—standing there in his usual effortless way, glasses on, a bag of snacks in one hand.

“Oh, hey, Harry,” Charlotte greeted with a grin, throwing Y/N one last look. “I was just leaving.”

Harry glanced between them, looking mildly amused. “Leaving?”

“Yep.” Charlotte winked at Y/N. “Have fun.”

And before Y/N could even form a reply, she was gone.

Harry stepped inside, brow raised. “Did I just interrupt something?”

Y/N exhaled, shaking her head. “No. She’s just being Charlotte.”

Harry chuckled, setting the snacks down. “That explains a lot.”

Settling onto the couch, Y/N pressed play on 27 Dresses, tucking her legs under her.

Harry sat beside her, stretching his arm along the back of the couch. The space between them was small—too small—and she tried not to focus on the way his knee almost brushed hers.

“Have you seen this before?” he asked.

She scoffed. “Please. At least twenty times.”

Harry smiled. “Figures.”

For the first half hour, they made occasional comments about the movie—Harry teasing her about knowing all the lines, Y/N defending why it was a romcom classic.

But eventually, the room grew quieter. The soft glow of the screen cast shadows across Harry’s face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the way his glasses slid down his nose.

And Y/N—despite her best efforts to stay focused on the film—felt her eyelids growing heavy.

She shifted slightly, trying to stay awake, but the warmth of the room, the steady sound of the dialogue, and the presence of Harry right beside her made it impossible.

At some point, she leaned just a little too far to the side—

And before she could stop herself, her head landed gently on his shoulder.

For a second, she almost panicked.

But Harry didn’t move. Didn’t pull away.

If anything, he relaxed.

She felt him shift slightly, adjusting so that she fit more comfortably against him.

And just like that, sleep took over.

———

The next morning, the first thing Y/N registered was warmth.

A slow, steady warmth surrounding her, lulling her in a sleepy haze.

Then, she felt movement.

Her eyes fluttered open, and it took her a moment to realize:

She was curled into Harry’s side, his arm draped loosely around her shoulders.

The snack bag was on the floor. The TV screen had long since gone black. The early morning light was filtering through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the room.

And Harry—

Was still asleep.

His head rested against the back of the couch, lips slightly parted, curls falling across his forehead. His glasses were slightly askew, one arm still tucked around her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N barely breathed.

She should move. Should sit up, stretch, do anything to break the moment before he woke up.

But before she could, she felt him shift.

A slow inhale. A stretch.

And then, with a small frown, Harry’s eyes blinked open.

For a second, he looked confused. Disoriented.

Then, his gaze landed on her.

They both froze.

Silence.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.

And then—

Harry’s lips twitched, still laced with sleep. “Morning.”

Y/N swallowed. “Morning.”

Another pause.

Then, realization dawned in Harry’s sleepy eyes. He glanced down at their position—her body still tucked into his side, his arm still loosely wrapped around her.

And yet—he didn’t move away.

Instead, his mouth curved into something softer.

“Didn’t mean to steal your couch,” he murmured.

Y/N huffed out a quiet laugh. “Didn’t mean to steal your shoulder.”

Harry smiled.

And for a moment, they just… sat there.

Close. Warm. Unmoving.

Y/N was still sitting on the couch, trying to process the fact that she’d just spent the night curled up against Harry Styles, when she heard him stretch beside her.

She glanced over. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, one hand running through his curls, the other adjusting his glasses.

And he looked… way too good for someone who had just woken up.

Before she could stop herself, she spoke.

“Do you—” She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. “Do you want some coffee?”

Harry turned to her, blinking.

Then, the corner of his mouth lifted.

“Are you offering me coffee, Y/N?”

She rolled her eyes, standing up. “I regret it already.”

Harry chuckled, pushing himself up from the couch. “Too late.”

———

They ended up in the small dorm kitchen, Y/N fumbling with the coffee machine while Harry leaned against the counter, watching her with amusement.

“I didn’t peg you as the type to function without caffeine,” he said.

She scoffed. “Who says I function at all?”

Harry smirked. “Fair point.”

Once the coffee was ready, she handed him a mug, grabbing one for herself before hopping up onto the counter.

Harry took a slow sip, humming in approval. “Not bad.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Not bad?”

“Yeah.” He nudged her knee playfully. “Could be better.”

She gasped in mock offense. “You are such a snob.”

Harry grinned. “I have high standards.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling.

They fell into comfortable conversation, talking about everything from classes to 27 Dresses to how Harry apparently had a very strong opinion about the correct way to make tea.

And Y/N—despite the fact that she had woken up to a situation that should have been extremely awkward—found herself relaxing.

That was, of course, until Charlotte walked in.

She stopped in the doorway, taking in the sight before her—Harry standing in the kitchen, hair still tousled from sleep, drinking coffee from their mugs.

Y/N sitting on the counter, wearing the same clothes from last night.

Charlotte’s eyes widened.

Then, a slow smirk spread across her face.

“Oh,” she said, drawing out the word. “Good morning.”

Y/N groaned. “Charlotte—”

Charlotte ignored her, turning to Harry with an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Wow, Harry. You’re still here?”

Harry, to Y/N’s horror, grinned.

“Apparently, I make decent company, and your couch is not too bad” he said, sipping his coffee.

Charlotte gasped dramatically. “Did Y/N let you sleep on the couch? That is so rude.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Charlotte.”

Charlotte pressed a hand to her heart. “I mean, I was gone all night, you totally could’ve used my bed—”

Y/N almost choked on her coffee. “Oh my God, stop.”

Charlotte just smirked, eyes dancing between them. “I’m just saying…”

Y/N glared. “You’re the worst.”

Harry chuckled, setting down his mug. “I should probably get going before Mason starts wondering where I am.”

He turned to Y/N then, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he murmured.

She swallowed. “Yeah. Anytime.”

Charlotte wiggled her eyebrows.

Y/N shot her a warning look.

Harry—completely amused—grabbed his bag and made his way to the door.

“See you later, Y/N.”

And with that, he was gone.

Y/N barely had time to let out a breath before Charlotte pounced.

“So.”

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Don’t.”

Charlotte ignored her, flopping onto the couch with a wicked grin. “You slept together.”

“Oh my God—”

“Not like that,” Charlotte amended. “But still. You slept together.”

Y/N groaned. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Charlotte scoffed. “Oh, honey. It so was.”

———

Y/N had spent the entire morning convincing herself that nothing had changed.

That waking up next to Harry hadn’t felt different.

That the way he had smiled at her over coffee hadn’t made her stomach flip.

That she wasn’t replaying every second of their time together like some lovesick idiot.

But she was failing—miserably.

And Charlotte wasn’t helping.

“So,” her roommate drawled, flipping through a magazine on her bed, “are we just gonna pretend that last night never happened?”

Y/N, sitting at her desk, sighed. “Nothing happened.”

Charlotte scoffed. “You cuddled on the couch, made him coffee in the morning, and practically gazed at each other the whole time. That’s something.”

Y/N turned to glare at her. “I wasn’t gazing.”

Charlotte smirked. “Oh, honey. You were gazing.”

Y/N groaned, dropping her head onto her desk.

Charlotte laughed, tossing the magazine aside. “Look, all I’m saying is—he’s different, isn’t he?”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

Charlotte shrugged. “I mean, I’ve never seen you act like this over a guy. You usually keep your distance, but with Harry… I don’t know. You let him in.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest—but nothing came out.

Because, as much as she hated to admit it, Charlotte wasn’t wrong.

Harry was different.

And that was what scared her the most.

———

That afternoon, she tried to focus on studying.

Tried being the keyword.

She was in the library, sitting at her usual spot by the window, but the words on the page blurred together.

Her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it, already knowing who it was.

Harry [3:27 PM]: You’re not skipping the library today, are you?

Y/N [3:28 PM]: I’m literally here right now.

Harry [3:29 PM]: Good. Would’ve had to question your commitment to academia otherwise.

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips.

A minute later, she heard a chair scrape against the floor.

She looked up.

Harry slid into the seat across from her, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Hi,” he said, smiling.

Y/N tried to ignore the way her heartbeat definitely sped up. “Hi.”

He set down his bag and pulled out a book. “What are we studying today?”

Y/N sighed. “I’m trying to get through this reading, but it’s not working.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Do you want me to quiz you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You just got here.”

He smirked. “And?”

She shook her head, amused. “Fine.”

And so, they studied. Or at least, they tried.

Every time Harry read a passage aloud, he did it with exaggerated dramatics, making Y/N laugh.

Whenever she got an answer right, he’d tap his fingers against the table like a drumroll.

At some point, he reached for her book, fingers grazing hers—and neither of them pulled away.

The touch was brief, but her skin tingled where it had been.

Harry didn’t say anything, but his gaze flickered to hers, something unspoken lingering between them.

For the first time, Y/N felt like she was on the edge of something.

And she didn’t know whether to step forward—or run.

———

An hour later, Y/N packed up her things.

“I should go,” she murmured.

Harry nodded, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Alright.”

She hesitated before speaking. “Thanks for—y’know. Keeping me sane.”

Harry’s lips quirked. “Anytime.”

As she turned to leave, he called after her

“Oh, Y/N?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

Harry reached into his bag, pulling out a book.

She frowned as he held it out to her.

“The Symposium?” she read aloud, eyebrows raised.

Harry smirked. “Figured you might like it.”

She stared at him. “Harry, this is your copy.”

He shrugged. “So?”

“So, I know you annotate all your books.” She flipped through the pages, confirming her suspicions—his familiar, neat handwriting filled the margins. “I can’t take this.”

“You can,” he said simply. “And you will.”

She glanced up at him, confused. “But… why?”

Harry held her gaze for a moment, then leaned in slightly.

“Because I think you’ll understand it,” he murmured.

Y/N’s breath caught.

Because there was weight behind his words—something deeper than just a casual book recommendation.

She swallowed, gripping the book a little tighter.

“…Thank you,” she said softly.

Harry smiled. “See you later, Y/N.”

And as she walked away, The Symposium pressed against her chest, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

That, maybe, she had just crossed a line she could never go back from.

———

The night wrapped around them like a quiet secret. The streets were nearly empty, the world softened by the golden glow of streetlamps.

Y/N and Harry walked side by side, their steps unhurried, as if neither of them wanted the night to end just yet.

She wasn’t sure how they ended up here—how a simple goodnight after studying turned into do you want to take a walk? But she didn’t regret saying yes.

It had been a week since that night at her apartment, since they’d woken up together on the couch, and things between them had shifted. Not in an obvious way—there were no declarations, no grand confessions—but something had changed.

Harry had always looked at her like he was intrigued. But now?

Now, he looked at her like he knew. Like he was just waiting for her to admit it, too.

“You’re quiet,” Harry murmured beside her.

She glanced at him. “So are you.”

He smiled, a little crooked. “Guess I don’t always have something to say.”

“Impossible.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Harsh.”

They walked a little further before she spoke again, a quiet admission in the stillness of the night.

“I read your notes.”

Harry turned his head slightly. “My notes?”

“In The Symposium.”

Realization flickered in his expression. “Right.”

She hesitated. “There was one part that stuck with me.”

His gaze softened. “Which one?”

Y/N swallowed.

“The part where you wrote that love is about recognizing something familiar in someone else.”

Harry didn’t speak right away.

Then, quietly, he said, “That’s my favorite part.”

Y/N stopped walking.

So did he.

The silence between them stretched, heavy with something.

She could feel her pulse thrumming in her wrists, in her throat, in the space between them that was growing smaller by the second.

Harry took a step closer. Slowly. Like he was giving her time to stop him.

She didn’t.

His gaze flickered to her lips, just for a second, before meeting her eyes again.

His voice was softer when he spoke next. “You realize I like you, don’t you?”

Y/N felt something tighten in her chest.

Because, of course, she did.

But hearing it—feeling it—was different.

She exhaled, barely a whisper. “I think I do now.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Good.”

He didn’t move right away.

He just looked at her, taking her in, like he was memorizing the moment.

Then, so softly it was almost imperceptible, his fingers brushed against hers.

Y/N inhaled sharply.

And that was all it took.

Before she could second-guess it, before she could talk herself out of it, she closed the space between them.

She barely had time to process the warmth of his skin, the steady rise and fall of his breath, before his hand came up, fingers grazing her jaw as he leaned in—slow, careful, waiting.

And then—

Then, he kissed her.

It was soft at first. Just a whisper of a touch, a silent question against her lips.

But the moment she kissed him back, the moment her fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater, it changed.

It deepened.

Harry let out a quiet sound—like he had been waiting for this longer than he cared to admit—and then his hands were on her waist, pulling her closer, closer, like the space between them was unbearable.

Her heart was racing.

She could feel the warmth of his palms, the faint scrape of his stubble against her skin, the way he kissed her like he was learning her—like he wanted to know exactly how she fit against him.

And she let him.

By the time they pulled apart, her head was spinning, her breath uneven.

Harry’s forehead rested against hers, and he let out a quiet laugh.

“What?” she asked, still breathless.

He shook his head, smiling. “Nothing. Just… glad I finally did that.”

She bit her lip, trying—and failing—not to smile.

“Me too.”

Harry’s thumb brushed against her waist absentmindedly.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked.

Y/N nodded.

But neither of them moved.

Not right away.

And when they finally started walking again, Harry’s fingers found hers, intertwining them effortlessly—like they had been waiting to do that, too.

———

It had only been a couple of weeks since that night—their first kiss under the dim glow of the streetlights—but things between them had changed so much.

Not in an overwhelming way. Not in a way that made Y/N feel rushed or pressured.

But in a way that made her soften.

In a way that made it impossible to ignore how utterly smitten Harry was.

It was in the way he always found a reason to touch her, even in the smallest ways—fingertips brushing against hers when they walked, absentmindedly tucking her hair behind her ear when she was focused on something, resting his chin on her shoulder just because he could.

It was in the way he remembered things, like how she liked her coffee and how she hated the sound of loud chewing. In the way he always waited for her outside class even when they had different schedules. In the way he looked at her, like he was always choosing to.

Like he couldn’t believe she was real.

Today was no different.

Y/N sat curled up on the library couch, actually trying to get some work done, while Harry sat beside her, flipping through a book he had absolutely no interest in.

At least, that’s what she assumed—because instead of reading, he was staring at her.

She sighed, setting her pen down. “Harry.”

“Hm?” He looked unbothered, too comfortable as he rested his head against the back of the couch.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

She shot him a pointed look.

He smirked, unfazed. “Looking at my girlfriend?”

Her stomach flipped.

Even after two weeks, the word still did something to her.

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were warm, and Harry knew it.

With a quiet chuckle, he reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers, absentmindedly running his thumb across the back of her palm.

“Should I be studying?” he murmured, lips twitching.

She nodded. “Yes.”

Harry pretended to consider it. Then, with zero hesitation, he squeezed her hand and dragged it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“Too bad,” he murmured against her skin.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

This boy.

She was so doomed.

———

Y/N had tried to keep things subtle.

Not because she wanted to hide it, but because Charlotte was the biggest menace when it came to teasing her, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that just yet.

Too bad Charlotte noticed everything.

Like the way Y/N smiled at her phone when she thought no one was looking. The way she suspiciously left the dorm at night with an “I’ll be back later.” The way she got flustered when Harry’s name came up in conversation.

She had her suspicions, but she didn’t have proof.

Until now.

Because today, as Charlotte was walking toward the dorm, she saw them.

Saw Harry pressing a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. Saw the way she leaned into him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And that was all she needed.

“I KNEW IT!”

Y/N jumped, turning to find Charlotte standing a few feet away with the biggest, most victorious grin on her face.

“Oh my God,” Y/N muttered.

Harry—who clearly wasn’t fazed at all—simply raised an eyebrow. “Did you, though?”

Charlotte turned to him, still grinning. “YES. I just didn’t have evidence.” She turned back to Y/N, wiggling her eyebrows. “But now I do.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Charlotte sing-songed.

Harry chuckled, amused, before leaning down and whispering into Y/N’s ear, “I’ll leave you to it, sweetheart.”

She sighed dramatically. “Coward.”

He smirked, kissed the side of her head one last time, and walked away, leaving her to deal with Charlotte’s relentless interrogation.

Y/N was so in trouble.

———

After an hour of being mercilessly teased, Y/N flopped onto her bed, groaning in frustration.

Charlotte smirked from across the room. “Oh, come on, you love me.”

“Debatable,” Y/N muttered, reaching for her phone.

She scrolled through her messages before typing.

Y/N [10:08 PM]: I officially hate you.

Harry [10:09 PM]: That’s unfortunate.

Y/N [10:09 PM]: Charlotte won’t stop teasing me. This is your fault.

Harry [10:10 PM]: Guess I’ll just have to make it up to you, won’t I?

Y/N froze, rereading the message at least three times.

Before she could even think of a response, there was a quiet knock on the door.

Charlotte and Y/N shared a look.

Y/N opened it—and there he was.

Harry stood there, a lazy smirk on his lips, holding a small pastry in a white paper bag.

“Hey,” he murmured.

Y/N blinked.

Charlotte—who was watching the whole thing unfold—snorted. “Oh, my God. You are so whipped.”

Harry didn’t even deny it.

He just shrugged, handed Y/N the bag, and kissed her temple like it was the most normal thing in the world.

When she looked inside, she found her favorite pastry, the one from the café across campus.

She looked back up at him, eyes soft. “You went all the way to—“

Harry simply shrugged. “Felt like it”

Y/N pressed her lips together, trying not to melt right then and there.

Charlotte, however, had no such restraint. “You two are disgusting”, she muttered, rolling her eyes before dramatically throwing a pillow over her head.

Harry chuckled, then leaned down and whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Worth it.”

And just like that, Y/N knew—

She was so, so screwed.

[amirasainz]

Hey love. Could I please request some Oscar story. Maybe Oscar and reader being in love with each other and the other drivers teasing them a bit but still think it's cute?

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Quiet Hearts, Loud Paddock

The paddock buzzed with its usual chaos: mechanics bustling around, reporters scribbling notes, engines humming in the background. Yet amid the noise, one corner always seemed to shine just a little brighter — wherever Yn stood with her microphone, offering kind smiles and thoughtful questions to drivers who appreciated her genuine warmth.

Yn was the youngest reporter in the paddock, just twenty years old, but already well-liked by the entire grid. Her interviews were never intrusive or sensational. She focused on the people behind the helmets — their personalities, passions, and quirks.

And while everyone enjoyed her presence, one driver seemed particularly captivated by her: Oscar.

The quiet Australian wasn’t one to seek attention, but when Yn was around, his shyness melted into soft smiles, flushed cheeks, and playful remarks. The two of them turned every interview into a game of compliments and shy glances. Everyone could see it — the stolen looks, the way their eyes lingered a beat too long, the rosy tint coloring their cheeks after even the simplest interaction.

The other drivers found it both hilarious and heartwarming. But despite their teasing instincts, they decided not to meddle. Young love, after all, had its own pace.

----------

Media Day

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the paddock as Yn stood by the media pen, holding her microphone and checking her notes. She smoothed her blouse and glanced at the interview schedule. Oscar — 3:30 PM.

Her heart skipped. Why did she still get nervous? She’d interviewed him dozens of times, yet her palms always got clammy just before he arrived.

“Waiting for someone special?” a voice teased.

Yn turned to see Lando grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“No,” she said, feigning nonchalance. “I’m just working.”

“Sure, sure.” Lando’s eyes twinkled. “I bet your ‘work’ blushes as much as you do.”

Yn rolled her eyes. “Go annoy someone else, Norris.”

He laughed but left her alone.

Moments later, Oscar approached, dressed in his team polo and cap. Yn's breath caught, but she forced herself to smile as she raised her microphone.

“Hi, Oscar!” she greeted, too brightly.

“Hey, Yn,” he replied, his dimples showing instantly. “You look…uh…nice today.” His eyes flickered to her yellow blouse. “Sunshine-y.”

“Oh, thank you!” she said, cheeks warming. “You always look good in team colors.”

Oscar laughed softly, ducking his head. “I mean…it’s required, but I appreciate it.”

“So, uh…let's talk about the weekend ahead,” Yn said, refocusing. “How are you feeling going into tomorrow’s practice?”

“Excited,” Oscar said. “The car’s feeling good. The team’s worked really hard. I just hope I can do them proud.”

“You always do,” Yn said automatically.

Oscar’s lips parted slightly, as though surprised by her conviction. “Thanks,” he murmured. “That means a lot.”

She cleared her throat. “And how’s the track looking this weekend?”

“Challenging, but fun. I mean, you've walked it, right?”

“Yeah. Nearly tripped over a curb though.”

Oscar chuckled. “Well, I promise not to do that in the car.”

They both laughed, the tension easing into something light and familiar. The interview went on, sprinkled with gentle teasing and lingering glances. When they wrapped up, Yn lowered her mic, but neither of them moved.

���Well…good luck, Oscar,” she said softly.

“Thanks, Yn.” His eyes softened. “See you around.”

As he walked away, Yn exhaled deeply. Across the paddock, Lando caught her eye and mimed a dramatic swoon. She ignored him.

----------

Post-Qualifying Interviews

Oscar had qualified P4 — his best of the season. Yn’s heart swelled with pride as he walked toward her with a grin.

“Congratulations, Oscar!” she beamed as he stopped beside her. “P4! How are you feeling?”

“Over the moon,” Oscar said, running a hand through his hair. “The car was great. The team nailed the setup. Honestly…I’m just happy I didn’t mess it up.”

Yn laughed. “You? Mess up? Never.”

Oscar ducked his head with a bashful smile. “You’re biased.”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But I'm usually right.”

He met her gaze then, something unspoken crackling between them. She felt her cheeks flush and quickly asked another question.

Behind them, a group of drivers loitered near the hospitality suite. Carlos elbowed Charles.

“Look at them,” Carlos whispered. “They’re practically heart-eyes emojis.”

“Just confess already!” Charles mock-shouted toward Oscar.

Oscar heard. His neck turned bright red. Yn nearly dropped her microphone.

Max, standing nearby, shook his head. “Leave them alone. Let them figure it out.”

Carlos sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if they don’t kiss by the end of the season, I’m intervening.”

----------

Race Day

Oscar finished P4, earning solid points. Yn was the first reporter to greet him as he stepped from the car, hair damp with sweat and a tired but happy smile on his face.

“P4!” Yn said, raising her mic. “That was some brilliant driving, Oscar!”

“Thanks, Yn. It was tough out there.”

“You made it look easy,” she said, her admiration shining through.

Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, his usual tell of nervousness. “Well…maybe I had some extra motivation today.”

“Oh?” Yn tilted her head. “Care to share?”

His eyes met hers. “Nah. Not yet.”

Yn's breath caught. The air between them seemed to thicken, and the world blurred into the background.

When Oscar walked away, Lando sidled up. “Did he just flirt with you?”

“I don’t know,” Yn said faintly.

“You’re both helpless.”

----------

The paddock party was lively, music thumping, drivers and team members mingling with drinks and laughter. Yn stood by the balcony, watching the celebration unfold.

“Hey.”

She turned. Oscar stood there, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Hey,” she said, smiling. “Congrats again.”

“Thanks.” He shifted on his feet. “I, um…wanted to say something.”

Yn’s pulse quickened. “Okay.”

Oscar took a deep breath. “I really like you, Yn. Like…a lot. And I know we’ve kind of danced around it for a while, but…I just had to tell you.”

Yn’s heart soared. “I really like you too, Oscar.”

His face broke into a smile of pure relief. “Really?”

“Yeah. Always have.”

The silence stretched, comfortable now. Then Oscar, emboldened by the moment, asked, “Can I…maybe take you out sometime?”

“I’d love that.”

They stood there, the party noise fading into a distant hum.

From across the terrace, Charles fist-pumped the air. “Finally!”

Carlos laughed. “Took them long enough.”

Lando raised his glass. “To the shy ones!”

Max shook his head with a fond smile. “Leave them alone, guys.”

But Yn and Oscar didn’t even hear. They only saw each other — their quiet love finally spoken aloud.

[honeypiehotchner]

Operation Lovebirds (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- oneshot

Happy belated Valentine's Day! In the spirit of making myself feel better, here's some unashamed fluff in between updates of The Gambit!

Summary: You make plans for the team to get drinks together after work on Valentine’s Day in an effort to make yourself feel better after a sudden breakup. The team decides to play matchmaker instead 😉

Warnings: oblivious reader, oblivious Hotch, PINING, YEARNING, past relationship/breakup woes, gender neutral terms for reader's ex, hotch is divorced but no foyet arc, awkward flirting (i think), happy ending ofc!!!

WC: ~5,200

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Aaron Hotchner since you started working at the BAU a year ago, it’s that he doesn’t go out.

You’re not really sure what it is that stops him, because even Rossi comes out with the team most nights, but in the year that you’ve been here, Hotch has come out three whole times. Three. In a year.

So, naturally, you’re the first to let the pure surprise show on your face when Hotch agrees to go out tomorrow night. In fact, you laugh.

He doesn’t.

“Oh my god,” you pause, smacking Morgan’s arm. “He’s being serious. Somebody get the champagne! Get me a calendar, I need to mark it.”

Hotch rolls his eyes at you, but there’s a small smile fighting at the corners of his lips like always when he hears your jokes. “Don’t get too excited. I might change my mind.” 

(The truth is, after seeing how excited you are, he won’t change his mind. He hasn’t seen you smile in a week.)

A week ago, the person you were dating broke things off rather randomly. You aren’t even sure if you can consider them as someone you were in a relationship with, since based off their final message to you, it seems they didn’t see things that way. Regardless, it ended, and it was something that, for the first time, you had high hopes for. You thought it might’ve been real.

So, yeah, Hotch hasn’t seen you smile in a week. He knows something is wrong, but hasn’t had the courage to ask, in case he’s overstepping. The two of you get along just fine to work together, and you’ve had a few heart-to-hearts over the months, especially on late night flights when everyone else is asleep and you’re the only two wide awake. But those feel…different than this.

Hotch is just happy that his idea worked. He knew if he could joke about going out, it would put the bug in your ear, and you’d make the plans. Which is how he found himself agreeing to go out to a bar tomorrow after work.

Tomorrow just so happens to be Valentine’s Day. So what if Hotch selfishly wanted to spend the day with you in some capacity outside of the office, but was too scared to ask outright? So what if he’s a little happy at the fact that you have no plans other than inviting everyone out to drinks?

He’s a little worried given that he thought you were seeing someone, but he thought that was his imagination. You never mentioned dating anyone to anyone on the team, Hotch was just putting pieces together to hurt his own feelings.

Except. You haven’t smiled in a week, and you’re suddenly free for drinks after work…on Valentine’s Day.

Hotch tries not to think about it too much. He doesn’t want to think about you being sad any more than he’s had to this past week with your silent moods and halfway smiles. That alone has already twisted something into a knot in his chest.

“This is perfect!” your excitement is palpable. “This might be the first time I get everyone out at once. Derek, do not let me down. Bring your date!”

“Fine, fine,” Derek concedes. “I’ll ask her if she wants to come -- after her and I have had a very romantic dinner,” he smirks.

You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder in the same sibling way you always interact with Morgan, but Hotch watches you carefully, noticing the hint of sadness behind your eyes.

Fuck. You were seeing someone. That’s the only explanation, and they broke your heart -- a week before Valentine’s Day, might he add -- and it must’ve felt real to you because why else would you have that devastated look in your eyes?

Hotch, unsurprisingly, has harbored somewhat of a schoolgirl crush for you since about a month after you started working at the BAU. It took Rossi precisely one week to notice, but you’re going on month eleven of being blissfully unaware. Morgan has given Hotch a couple knowing looks but has yet to call him out on it. If JJ and Emily know (and they do), they haven’t said anything, least of all to you. Garcia is well aware after she caught Hotch watching you wistfully from his office one afternoon, but she hasn’t mentioned anything to you.

Rossi has, of course, tried to talk Hotch into making a move -- even a half-move, a hint of a move -- but Hotch refuses. Mostly because he had suspicions you were seeing someone, but also because he just can’t imagine someone like you having the same feelings for someone like him. It’s bizarre.

As everyone listens to your giddy pre-planning of where to go for drinks and what to wear, knowing looks are shared by the team -- looks that you and Hotch are left out of.

+++

You’re trying on the fourteenth outfit and trying to hold yourself together when you nearly cancel drinks to lie in bed in a pit of despair.

But that’s dramatic and irrational, so you try on a fifteenth outfit, say fuck it, and grab your car keys.

You’ll be a little early to the bar, but you don’t mind. Might as well get out before you lose the will to go back out again.

You just couldn’t stomach sitting inside, alone on Valentine’s Day, not during this rollercoaster of emotions that you’re feeling. Especially not now.

It’s not that you thought you had found the one, it’s the fact that you thought maybe they are. It’s not the fact that you were certain, it’s that you were so hopeful. You really thought things would go farther than that, and you never thought the crash and burn would be so random. 

You really thought this time was different. Because it felt different, it felt good. Only for it to end the same as always. 

You should be used to it by now, you think. People being uncertain of you. People being uncertain of how they want you in their lives. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in a relationship with someone only for them to decide that suddenly they aren’t ready for a relationship. It doesn’t make any more sense than it did the last time, but this one certainly knocked the wind out of you from how unexpected it was.

No matter, though. Because tonight you’re dancing, laughing with friends, and hopefully smiling so hard that you forget about it all hurting so much.

When you get to the bar, you’re the first one there, so you slide up to the bar and wave the bartender down, getting started with your first drink.

Unfortunately, no one cute catches your eye -- yet. You’re not exactly sure if you want to flirt with anyone tonight, but it could be fun. Could take your mind off things.

You’re halfway done with your first drink when Derek texts the group chat. Dinner got a little delayed. See y’all in a bit.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what he means by delayed. You snort and text back telling him it’s fine.

JJ is next. Couldn’t find a babysitter so Will and I are staying in! So sorry guys!

You frown, but it’s fine. You were worried about whether they'd be able to find a babysitter so soon.

No one else says a word, so you assume they’re all free.

Except that they don’t show.

You’re getting a little annoyed as the minutes tick by until you see, like a knight in shining armor, Aaron Hotchner walks through the doors.

You smile in pure relief and disbelief that he’s actually here, waving him over. He spots you and a soft smile settles on his lips, making a beeline for you at the bar.

Couples are sitting on either side of you, so Hotch stands behind you, your body suddenly very aware of how close he is.

“You look surprised to see me,” he teases.

You stare up at him, mystified. “Because I am.”

Hotch orders a whiskey on the rocks and another of whatever you’re having, opening a tab. Your brain short circuits a moment too late when you realize he’s just bought you a drink.

You don’t mention it, unsure of what exactly it means. Or what exactly you want it to mean.

When the bartender brings the drinks over, Hotch leans down to speak to you over to growing crowds and conversations. “There’s an open booth over there if you want to move somewhere more comfortable?”

Your mind spins with all kinds of inappropriate thoughts as you nod. “Booth sounds nice.”

You were unaware of just how many people had flooded into the bar since Hotch arrived, your focus clearly all on him and how close he was to touching you. Your fingers lightly touch Hotch’s back as you follow him through the crowd to the booth that he can see with his height.

Finally, you spot it, a miraculously free two-person booth at a table with a small lamp in the middle. It casts just enough shadows on Hotch’s face to make him look infinitely more attractive (something you hadn’t thought possible).

You’ve harbored a foolish crush on your boss since, well, the very beginning. It’s embarrassing.

Because you know that not only will he never feel the same way, it’s also highly against the rules at work and would be beyond frowned-upon. So, you suffer in silence, and try desperately not to think about what it might feel like to just kiss him. Just once.

That’s the alcohol and loneliness talking. You need to pull yourself together.

There’s precisely ten minutes of small talk before Hotch goes straight for the heart.

“How are you doing?” he asks.

For anyone else, it’s an unassuming question. It’s simple. It almost falls into the category of small talk, except it doesn’t. Not for two FBI profilers.

Still, you try to deflect with a shrug. “I’m alright. As alright as someone chronically single can be on Valentine’s Day, I guess. What about you?”

He’s not exactly in a different boat. He’s been single ever since his divorce a few years ago, as far as you know -- and you imagine you’d know because these sort of things get around in the BAU. The nosiest unit in the FBI, you always joke.

Hotch mirrors your shrug. “I’m alright.” He pauses, studying you. “I only ask because you’ve seemed…down lately.”

You grimace.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he quickly adds, almost scrambling. “I know this is odd, I’m your boss and we’re sitting at a booth in a bar on Valentine’s Day, but, I want you to know, if you do want to talk -- about anything -- I’m here. I want to listen.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment, feeling your facade as it slowly melts and drips away. “Thanks,” you avert your eyes, focusing instead on your drink that has barely two sips left. You have a comfortable buzz now, one that makes you a little quicker to let him in. “I was seeing someone that I was really hopeful about, for the first time, ever, and it ended randomly a week ago. Got a text just out of nowhere.” You pause, chuckling darkly. “I was in the middle of thinking about Valentine’s plans, actually, when I got the text. So.”

Hearing you confirm it out loud only makes Hotch’s heart twist and threaten to break. “I’m sorry,” he says, unsure of what else he can say, unsure of if there’s anything he can say to make it better. “I’m really sorry that happened.”

“Thanks,” you breathe, shaking your head a little to shake yourself out of it. You look up at Hotch and put on a fake, half-smile, the same one he’s seen you wearing the past week. “On to the next one, huh?” you joke. “If there even is a next one. If I even want there to be another one,” you add with a roll of your eyes. “I might have reached my limit for this shit.”

Hotch can’t even say that he blames you. “That’s understandable.”

There’s a trace of something in your eyes when you look at him, something he can’t read, but your smile is a little softer now, starting to look genuine. “Alright,” you clear your throat. “There’s my relationship woes. What about you? Breaking any hearts? Anyone breaking yours?”

He laughs at your change of subject, but shakes his head. “No, no, there’s no one.”

You frown. “Why not?”

He shrugs. “Haven’t really wanted to, I suppose.” I’m too much of a coward to ask you out on a date, according to Rossi. “Maybe soon, though.”

Excitement glints in your eyes. “Ooh, there is someone, I knew it! Tell me immediately.” 

He just stares at you, fighting back a smile at your unbridled joy that he gets to witness. He is so glad he gets to see this expression on your face. “There’s not really someone, it’s kind of--” He pauses, looking down at his own glass, wondering how much he can say without giving himself away so embarrassingly. “I’ve been too afraid to do something.”

“Why?” you ask, sounding genuinely interested. “Is she dating someone?”

“She was,” he replies, perhaps too fast. “And I’m not certain she feels the same way, or else I’d have made a move by now,” he admits, thinking the whiskey is getting to him. “Maybe.”

“Aaron Hotchner, a shy, hopeless romantic,” you muse, leaning back in the booth with a smirk. “Who would’ve guessed?”

He gives you an almost pained look, hoping the awe seeps through the most. Because you have no idea, do you? You have no idea just what you do to him, just by talking to him, looking at him, making him laugh, letting him hear your laugh. He’s more of a goner than he originally thought.

He laughs off your teasing. “There are my woes,” he says, hoping that’ll be the end of it. “Where are the rest of the team, anyway?”

“Who knows,” you say, sounding unbothered, though you dig your phone out to see if anyone has texted. 

If you and Aaron hadn’t been so caught up in conversation for the past hour, then you would’ve seen that everyone has said they can’t make it or that they’ll be “late” which is only code for they won’t show. You frown down at the messages, some almost forty-five minutes old now, wondering what they’re up to. 

Aaron glances at his phone, too, finding a private message from David. Enjoy your date ;)

Hotch rolls his eyes, pocketing his phone. The team -- most likely led by self-proclaimed Cupid, David Rossi -- decided to play matchmaker. He should’ve known.

And you…you seem completely unaware.

“Whatever,” you exhale, exasperated. “I should’ve known better than to try to get everyone together on Valentine’s Day.” You pause, a sheepish look in your eyes. “I just really didn’t want to be alone, so,” you lightly tap Aaron’s leg with your foot, “thanks for coming and keeping me company.”

“Anytime,” he says, meaning it wholeheartedly. “Should we get another drink?”

You hum. “I was actually getting kinda hungry.”

“You read my mind,” Aaron smiles. “Do they have food here?”

“Probably shitty bar food,” you reply. You look up at him through your lashes, nearly knocking the breath from his lungs. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

He nods immediately, nodding toward the door. “Let’s go. I know the perfect place.”

You grin almost instantly, standing up from the booth. “Lead the way.”

+++

The perfect place that Aaron knows is a hole-in-the-wall, family-run pizza joint that he has frequented for years, probably ever since he joined the BAU and moved out here. It’s open late, and half-full of other couples when you and Aaron arrive.

“Hey, Tony,” Aaron greets the owner with a firm handshake and smile. “Table for two, please.”

You watch as Tony gives Aaron a look before repeating his words, “Table for two, you got it, right this way, Hotchner.”

The way Tony says his name is reminiscent of a coach talking to his favorite player, right down to the playful swat of Aaron’s chest. It makes you smile.

“And who is the lucky lady?” Tony asks nonchalantly as he places the menus down on the table by the window.

You giggle, introducing yourself. “I wasn’t aware Aaron had connections here.”

It could be a trick of the dim lighting, but you swear you see Hotch blush as he shakes his head.

“Oh, yeah,” Tony says, standing back as you both sit. “I’ve known him for years, always coming here alone on Valentine’s Day. I’m just happy to see he’s brought someone with him this time.”

“Oh, we’re--” you start to say.

But Hotch interjects with, “That’s enough, Tony, thank you.”

You furrow your eyebrows only a little. He didn’t deny what Tony is implying.

You ignore it. Because you can’t let yourself read into it. That’s what always ends up burning you. You need to ignore it.

Tony leaves to let the two of you look at the menu, albeit going with a mischievous smile on his face.

“What do you recommend?” you ask, trying to redirect. “Or should we just get a large and split it?”

“That might be easiest,” Hotch agrees. “Let’s do that.”

Tony returns to take your order and brings water with him, promising some wine if you’d like. You laugh him off and tell him the two of you just came from the bar. 

When the pizza comes out, the two of you dig in, both having not realized just how hungry you were. With more water and food on your stomach, the alcohol has begun to wear off. But you’re still happy you’re spending the night with Aaron.

Whoever it is that he’s got his eyes set on, she’s one lucky girl. You know that for sure.

As the night winds to a close, you watch him more closely, wanting to memorize this. Because if you have any say in it, he’s going to get that girl that he’s so hopelessly in love with already. He deserves that. Even if it means you’ll never have another night like this with him.

So, you tell him just that as he’s dropping you back off at home. You turn toward him in the passenger seat, a sad smile on your lips.

“I’m going to give some unsolicited advice, okay?” you begin.

He laughs, clearly wary. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“Ask her out,” you say, hating the way you can feel the beginnings of tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. “Make a move. Don’t make her wait any longer. She might feel the same way, you never know, and you’ll never know, if you don’t ask her. So do it.”

He watches you, eyes studying every inch of your face. You don’t know it, but he’s trying to figure out why you look so sad as you’re saying this to him. How can you have no idea that it’s you, it’s always been you? How do you not know?

“That’s all,” you say, blinking the emotion out of your eyes. It’s gone so quick that he wonders if he imagined it. “Thank you for tonight, I really needed it. I’ll see you on Monday?”

He nods, all words foreign to him. “See you Monday. Enjoy your weekend.”

“You too,” you give him another smile.

He watches you leave, watches you get to your front door, waits for you to go inside. He stays there, waiting until he sees the lights turn on in your apartment, until he knows without a doubt that you are safe inside.

He drives away. And starts to think of a plan.

+++

Monday is a slow, tortuous day after a slow, tortuous weekend spent wondering yourself sick about if Hotch took your advice. If he spent the weekend with her, the girl that made his eyes go all soft when talked about her to you. If he was going to come into the office as a new man on Monday, feelings reciprocated, love radiating off him.

He didn’t, which you felt guilty for feeling relieved about.

He brought you a coffee, though. With a heart on the side of the cup. Probably from the barista who made it, you think. 

It’s a paperwork kind of day, so everyone leaves by 4:30, even Reid, though he leaves so early because he has an event at a bookstore to go to. Slowly, everyone trickles out, until it’s just you and Hotch.

You’re avoiding your empty apartment. Hotch is finishing up his work, while simultaneously building up the courage to ask you to dinner.

Time is ticking, this he knows, and he starts packing up as soon as he sees you standing to rinse out your coffee mug.

You’re just finishing gathering your things when you hear Hotch leaving his office, locking the door behind him. You look up at him with a smile.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” you tease, gesturing around at the barren BAU. “Why do we keep doing this?” 

It’s true that you’re usually the last two here, but this time feels different. There’s a different tension in the air that wasn’t here before, and you’re trying like hell to decipher if it’s good or bad.

“What are your plans for dinner?” he asks.

“Just leftovers or something,” you shrug. “You?”

“Well,” he says, letting out a soft, nervous laugh. “I was hoping to take someone out to dinner.”

You deflate a little. He must mean the girl. You try not to let it show in your tone, so you keep your head tucked, putting things away. “Did you ask her out? What’d she say?”

“That she had leftovers or something.”

Your hand freezes on your purse. You’re terrified to look up because if you do, then that means-- He can’t mean--

“I didn’t think I was so bad at this,” Aaron chuckles. “I guess it’s not muscle memory anymore.”

Slowly, slowly you lift your eyes. He’s sheepish. There is a blush on his cheeks, his smile is so damn hesitant, and you’re smiling before you can stop yourself.

“Aaron Hotchner,” you cross your arms over your chest. “Are you trying to ask me out on a date?”

“Emphasis on trying,” he says, looking so boyish. “Would you like to get dinner with me? Tonight, as a proper date?”

You nod right away, then stop yourself. “Wait, what about that girl you were telling me about?”

You’ve been “the other girl” before, and you refuse to do that again, not even for a man who looks like Aaron Hotchner.

But he laughs. Not at you, more at himself, at the situation. He shakes his head. “That girl is you,” he says. “I thought I was so obvious.”

“Wait--” you pause, blinking, the gears in your head stuttering and starting. “Me?”

He nods. “Since you started here. It was getting kind of embarrassing, according to Rossi.”

You giggle, unable to help yourself. Then pieces begin clicking into place. “Wait, so Valentine’s Day--”

“That was the team’s doing,” he nods to confirm. “Rossi got them in on it.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “And tonight?”

“Tonight was…just us being ourselves,” he confesses with a warm smile. “I didn’t tell any of them to leave so early.”

“And I just always stay a bit later,” you add. “Like you.”

“Like me,” he says. “Though you still leave before I do, most nights.”

“Yeah, because you sleep here, it seems like.”

“Hey,” he laughs, feigning hurt for a moment. “So…dinner?”

“Dinner,” you nod. “I’d love to get dinner with you, Aaron.”

“That’s a relief,” he breathes. “Can I take you somewhere again?”

You can take me anywhere you want, is what you want to say, but that feels a bit forward. “Of course,” you say instead. “Lead the way.”

+++

The team finds out the very next day, by pure accident.

Aaron drove you two to dinner last night straight from work, and the both of you were too caught up in it all to realize you left your car at work. Until it’s the next morning, you’re heading down to the parking lot of your apartment, car keys in hand, with your car nowhere to be found.

Aaron is walking through the BAU doors when his phone buzzes with a call from you. His heart skips as he answers, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, my love,” you reply easily. “Do you know where my car is? You get one guess.”

Hotch pauses, thinks, wondering why you’re asking him this question, until-- “Oh, shit,” he laughs. “I’ll come get you.”

“I can just take the bus,” you laugh just as hard. “I just wanted to tell you.”

You? On the bus? When he can easily just come get you? Absolutely not. “I’ll come get you,” he says again. “Let me set my things down, and I’ll be on my way to you.”

“Aaron--”

“Let me, please?” he asks, shoving inside his office to put his things down just inside the door. “I’m already walking back out to my car. We can get coffee and breakfast.”

“Okay,” you concede, finally. “I’ll wait.”

“I’ll be twenty minutes.”

It’s less time than that, actually, but you don’t call him out on it. Instead, you climb into his passenger seat with a smile.

“Long time no see,” you joke, buckling yourself in.

“I’m so sorry,” he laughs. “I completely forgot about your car.”

“I did too, don’t be sorry,” you reply, resting your hand on his arm. “It’s funny. And I’ll just drive it home tonight.”

He doesn’t want you to, he wants to always drive you around like this, but he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t want to come on too strong. “Okay. Well, for your troubles, we’ll get breakfast.”

“And coffee,” you sigh happily. “My turn to pick. I know the best place.”

He turns his phone toward you, the GPS already up. “Lead the way.”

When the two of you finally make it back to the BAU, the whole team is there, huddled around in the bullpen, clearly whispering about you and Hotch.

See, it’s rather suspicious when Hotch’s things are in his office, but he isn’t, especially an hour after he’s usually already got half the day’s work done. And your absence was noted too, as the minutes ticked by and no one had heard from you. And they knew the two of you were the last to leave last night.

Hotch holds open the glass door for you, laughing at something you’ve said (like always), the two of you unaware of the team meeting until you’re inside.

Everyone wears similar smirks. 

“Hello lovebirds,” Rossi chimes. “We were wondering where you disappeared to.”

“Just breakfast,” you say with a shrug.

“Mhm,” Morgan hums. “Where’s my breakfast?”

“Go away,” you groan, swatting him. “Why are you all around my desk? Boundaries!”

Just like that, the crowd disperses with some laughter, and Hotch is free to escape up to his office. Rossi is quick to follow him, interrogating him about his night.

“It was a great night,” Hotch replies, not wanting to give anything away. “You are an instigator.”

“Did you kiss her?” Rossi presses on.

Hotch makes a sound of disbelief. Rossi looks appalled.

“You didn’t?”

“There is such a thing as taking things slow, Dave,” Hotch replies.

“Alright,” Dave concedes. “But dinner was good?”

“Dinner was great,” Hotch reiterates, unable to hide his smile. “Now get out of my office so I can get some work done.”

Rossi leaves with a smirk so smug that Hotch hopes his face cramps up.

+++

Later in the evening, when once again it’s just you and Hotch left in the office, Hotch decides to pack up a little early. 

You’re in your own world, completely unaware that he’s heading out until he’s standing beside your desk. 

You lift your eyes, realizing he’s watching you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he smiles. “Ready to go?”

You glance at the clock. “I was actually--”

He shakes his head. “Come on.”

“What?”

“As your boss, I’m deciding you’re done for the day.”

“Oh, really?” you quirk an eyebrow. “And there wouldn’t happen to be any ulterior motives, would there?”

He shrugs, all sheepish again. “If you happened to be free for dinner again, I wouldn’t say no.”

“And if I’m not free?”

He’s unbothered. “Then I’ll walk you to your car and let you get to your plans.”

“Not even a kiss goodnight?” you tease as you start gathering your things.

Hotch goes quiet. “That can be arranged.”

“Okay,” you murmur, standing with your things. “Let’s go.”

He reaches out for your hand which you easily hold onto, walking with him to the elevators. As you wait for one to arrive, you look at him, taking in his side profile. He catches you looking from just the corner of his eye, starting to smile.

Once you step onto the elevator, you break the silence. “I desperately need to sleep early tonight, so raincheck on dinner?”

He nods. “Of course.”

You pause, testing the waters. “Coffee tomorrow, though?”

He smiles. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“That’s perfect,” you reply.

Hotch walks you to your car, as promised, and helps you set your things inside. He even opens the driver’s side door for you. You’re about to get inside when he stops you, one hand on your arm.

“About that goodnight kiss,” he says, a glint in his eyes that has your stomach doing flips.

You place your hands on his shoulders, gently looping your wrists around his neck. “Mm, what about it?”

His hands find your waist in no time, squeezing ever so slightly. “Can I?”

“You don’t have to ask,” you murmur. “And yes.”

You’re both smiling into it, softening when your lips finally connect. You feel it then, how this is what you’ve been missing. 

Aaron is so gentle as he kisses, so timid in a way that only makes you want him even more. His hands never wander from your waist, except for one moment to cup your jaw, to brush his thumb over your cheek as he kisses you one last time.

He pulls back to watch you, your eyes still closed in bliss. When you finally open them, he’s smiling at you.

“That’s some goodnight kiss,” you tease. “Careful, or you’ll spoil me.”

He shakes his head. “I want to,” he says, pressing another kiss to your lips. “And I will.”

You bring one hand to his face, holding onto him in disbelief. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

“Goodnight,” he whispers, giving you one more kiss for good measure. “Let me know when you get home safe?”

You nod. “You as well?”

“Okay,” he smiles. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You nod slowly. “In the morning.”

Neither of you make any move to leave. In fact, it takes half an hour for you to peel yourselves off of one another, and might’ve taken longer if your stomach hadn’t growled.

Eventually, you part, and Aaron shuts you into your car, waving as you drive off before he walks to his own vehicle. He stares at his reflection in a bit of disbelief, wondering what he did to deserve someone like you.

[ktownshizzle]

Nerd & Nerdier | Chapter 1

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader, Jeon Wonwoo x reader; endgame? x reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Attempt At Comedy, Roommates au, Love triangle

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Moving in with two introverts should have been easy. Not when it’s Min Yoongi and Jeon Wonwoo, who decide they both want you. Unhinged, awkward, and nerdy as hell, they proceed to compete for your attention in the most unnecessarily dramatic fashion that culminates into a… rap battle.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Wildly gratuitous, You might 100% chance you’ll fall in love with both of them so that’s a problem, no mxm dynamics to be expected

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter Warnings: None

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1k

✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: February 15, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: I am quite nervous about this series if imma be really honest bec this the first time I am doing a BTS-SVT crossover fic, but basically Yoongi and Wonwoo are ruining my life so I need to cope, please be kind I literally do not know what I’m doing. All I know is I have written out a good chunk of this series and I promise it’ll be fun. :) Thanks Jae @angellekookie for being my first test subject. I hope you all enjoy!~

TAGLIST IS OPEN | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Moving in with two introverts should have been easy. That’s what you told yourself when you signed the lease, all bright-eyed optimism and naive faith in your ability to coexist peacefully with two quiet, low-maintenance roommates.

You were wrong.

Because Min Yoongi and Jeon Wonwoo weren’t just introverts. They were weaponized introverts.

The kind that moved through life with an air of effortless detachment, as if emotions were things that happened to other people, not them. The kind that could sit in the same room in absolute silence for hours without any need to acknowledge each other’s existence. The kind that, despite their best efforts, were also painfully awkward. 

But that’s okay. In fact that’s part of their charm.

You think they’re both cool, if slightly nerdy. Yoongi was a music producer and Wonwoo was a game developer. They both have a penchant for photography, their cameras holding space in a special shelf in your living room. Yoongi liked cooking, Wonwoo liked reading. Both of them are passable singers, but you’ve heard them rap (under their breaths) to Epik High whenever you played their old songs, and both got flow, not gonna lie.

While Yoongi had the energy of a cat who tolerated your presence at best, Wonwoo had the aura of a ghost who wasn’t sure if he was haunting you or just existing in the same space by accident.

And despite your awkward first interactions, Yoongi eventually warmed up to you in the way one might warm up to a stray cat that kept showing up at their doorstep—begrudgingly, but with an unspoken fondness. Wonwoo, on the other hand, started making these tiny, barely noticeable gestures of consideration, like leaving the light on if you were out late or subtly pushing your favorite snacks to the front of the pantry because you were too short to reach them from the back.

And you, completely oblivious to the trouble brewing beneath the surface, assumed that was that. Roomies being roomies. 

What you didn’t realize was that somewhere between stolen bites of Yoongi’s late-night ramen while listening to his records and the post-work gaming sessions you have with Wonwoo while sharing popcorn, both boys had started to notice you in a way that was definitely not roommate-friendly and vice versa.

Roll the tape…

(01)

You weren’t even thinking when you snuck into the kitchen that night, mind set on one thing and one thing only: honey butter chips.

It wasn’t your fault that you finished your bag (Calbee puts some kind of crack in there, you swear), but you know someone else might still have a bag or two on the top shelf, if only you could rea—

“Tryna steal hyung’s stash again?”

You jumped, turning to see Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his glasses slightly askew and his hair falling over his eyes. The loose shirt he wore hung off his shoulders just right, and it suddenly struck you how broad those shoulders actually were.

“Fuck,” you whispered, heart still racing. “You scared me.”

As he walked over, you couldn’t help but notice how quietly he moved, almost like he was gliding. And when he reached past you to grab the snacks with ease, you caught the faint scent of his shampoo, something clean and subtle that made you a little dizzy.

“How’d you know these were what I wanted?” you asked softly.

Wonwoo’s smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer. “You always reach for them first at the store,” he said, like it was obvious.

And maybe it was. 

He casually opened the bag with one clean twist, the foil crinkling in the quiet kitchen before handing it to you. Without a word, he reached in and popped a chip into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

Then he smiled—small, lopsided, and so effortlessly boyish that it caught you off guard. You’d never realized how cute his smile was until now.

As he walked away, you stood there, clutching the bag of snacks to your chest as Wonwoo headed back to his room, leaving you alone in the kitchen with a weird fluttering in your stomach.

(02)

One night, sleep evaded you completely. Maybe it was the weight of the day, or maybe it was the sudden pang of missing your family that you couldn’t shake.

The faint sound of music led you to Yoongi’s room. You hovered at his door, unsure, until—

“Come in,” his low voice called out.

The room was dim, bathed in the soft glow of his monitor. Yoongi sat at his desk, sleeves pushed up, fingers tapping rhythmically against his keyboard. You tried not to stare, but there was something unfairly attractive about how effortlessly cool he looked, even half-asleep.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Mmhm,” you admitted with a hum. “Just… missing home, I guess.”

Yoongi’s expression softened just slightly, enough for you to notice. “Mm. That shit sneaks up on you,” he muttered.

“Can I stay?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

Somehow, it felt weird taking up space in his bed. So you sat on the floor instead, hugging your knees.

After a beat he joined you on the rug and he played a track for you. The music was soft, layered, and it made something inside you ache in a way that wasn’t unpleasant.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered. “Like a happy memory…”

Yoongi chuckled softly. “Yah, don’t go emo on me now.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tension in your chest eased a little.

At some point, your head found its way to his shoulder, your exhaustion catching up with you. Yoongi froze for half a second before leaning his head gently against yours.

Neither of you said anything when you stirred a few hours after.

Neither of you needed to.

Roommate Rule #1: Don’t Fall for Your Roommate(s). (Too Late)

Things like that kept happening. Quiet moments. Moments that weren’t meant to mean anything but lingered far longer than they should have. Little details you started noticing about them, that maybe you shouldn’t have.

The way Yoongi’s sleeves were always rolled up, revealing strong forearms that you had no business looking at for that long. The way Wonwoo’s glasses would slide down his nose when he was focused, and how you found yourself wanting to reach over and push them back up for him.

You pushed those thoughts aside. Because they’re your roommates.

But something had already shifted. You just hadn’t realized how much.

Which led to the current situation:

Yoongi, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching you laugh at something Wonwoo just said. 

Wonwoo, sipping his coffee with a smug little tilt of his lips, aware that his hyung was watching and he’s thriving off it.

And you, completely unaware that you were the unintentional catalyst for an impending nerd war aka the royal roomie rumble aka the most awkward month of your life.

Are you even ready?

;)

A/N: How are we feeling????? I'm really excited about this series. (I know I have a million WIPS but pleaseee... this one has been HAUNTING my dreams)

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Divider by: @cafekitsune (thank you!)

[lila-dalilah]

SPECIAL I

S2!sevika x chubby!reader

3.2k words

Contents: Masturbating (short), Sevika being a horny fuck, mentions of drinking and smoking weed, mentions of age gap, reader as body hair (?), kind of slow burn.

Summary: Sevika meets you at a dingy bar and can’t get your body out of her mind.

A.N: I wrote this because I’m at the motherland (🇩🇴) and my partner isn’t, so i’m horny and touch starved as fuck. This is the first time I put this much time and effort into writing fanfiction. Originally it was wayyy longer but I wanted to split it up and see how this performs first. Honestly not much happens, just Sevika being down bad. Also, I’m trying something new with the way I make my posts but idk if it’s prettier this way. Anyways, enjoy!

Divider from here

MINORS AND MEN DNI

Rock Bottom was a dingy, hole-in-the-wall type of place that had once been the hot spot in Zaun. Now, it was filled by empty stools and wobbly tables. The lights would flicker from time to time, some bulbs giving out before the end of the night.

Sevika and Miguel sat in their usual spot, just as they had done for years. Their families had always been very close, and they had known each other since childhood. When Rock Bottom was in its prime, they would drink themselves stupid on the cheapest booze they could get their hands on. Now, instead of dancing and trying to pick up one night stands, they sat and reminisced about their youngest years. The loud music and chatter were gone, substituted by an almost heavy silence only interrupted by the occasional clanking of glasses or muffled conversations.

Sevika had already downed a drink before Miguel arrived. She had been desperate to meet up with him. Miguel seemed to be the only constant in her life. The new weight on her shoulders was suffocating. Sevika felt responsible for continuing Silco’s legacy while also taking care of Jinx, who had taken in a kid herself somehow. Neither of those tasks were easy to accomplish.

Those who had once been partners seemed to be turning on her one by one, and she felt the need to always keep an eye on the girls. Jinx seemed to be dealing with things fairly well, but after so many years Sevika knew better. There was always calm before the storm. She was always in high alert, waiting for something to go wrong, which happened more often than she’d liked.

On top of that, Sevika had just started getting used to the new mechanical arm that Jinx had built for her. Some everyday tasks, like holding a glass or opening a door, proved to be very difficult now. She had broken at least half a dozen of glasses in the past two weeks either from squezimg them to hard or not gripping them tightly enough. Sevika had been forcing herself to use her right hand, which felt clumsy after not being used for so long. Still, it was the safer option.

Sevika grabbed the half full glass of whiskey with her non-dominant hand and downed it all at once. She could feel the alcohol burning its way down, hoping that it would drown out everything else, at least for a bit.

“If these walls could talk…”said Miguel, recalling all the anecdotes that had taken place there.

Sevika barely heard him, her eyes fixated on you. You were wearing a short, form fitting dress that hugged every curve. When you walked, your whole body jiggled.

In Zaun, being big was almost a sign of wealth. It meant you had enough to eat well. Sevika took pride in her body, for her it showed how far she had come. She could afford to eat well enough to maintain her muscles.

Sevika also loved the contrast of being with someone softer, the feeling of their plush curves against her angular and solid body. Sevika could almost imagine how you would feel on top of her, your soft thighs pressing her sides, your belly and breasts on full display. She wanted to run her hands through every inch of your body, using your rolls to pull you closer and closer.

Sevika almost startled herself has those thoughts ran through her mind. She had too many things on her mind, sex or arousal hadn’t been a priority for a while. Her libido had always been high, but her schedule had been too tight as of late to accommodate it.

Sevika spent her days at work and her nights with Jinx and Isha, who, after much insistence, had practically moved into Sevika’s place, staying over at least three times a week. In an effort to keep Isha away from danger, Sevika took it upon herself to look after her while Jinx worked on new projects. Most nights, she was exhausted, her back aching more often than not. If she had any energy left in her, Sevika would try to catch up with friends or go for a drink with other associates, not because she enjoyed it, but because she wanted to stay informed.

She hadn’t visited the brothel in about a month. Now that everything had settled a bit, Sevika had started to feel the effects of her unintentional abstinence. The sight of you reawakened a hunger that had been missing for a while.

You approached Miguel from the side, wide smile across your face. You placed a hand on the table, leaning slightly forward, towards Miguel. Sevika started at your cleavage, noticing any subtle movement of your breast while you greeted Miguel.

“Damn, didn’t expect to see you here”Miguel said cheerfully ”come, have a drink with us”

“I’d love to, but I’m all out of cash for the night”you said”Just wanted to say hi”

“Come on”insisted Miguel”One more round won’t ruin you!”

“Seriously, I can’t”you said, shaking your head from side to side.

Sevika couldn’t pull her eyes away from your body. It just had something special, magnetic. It was almost like an instinct. She wanted to have you. No reason or hesitation. You hadn’t noticed her yet, too caught up giggling as Miguel tried to convince you to stay.

“Next round’s on me”said Sevika, her voice directed at you for the first time.

Her voice caught you off guard. You knew who she was, who wouldn’t? She was Silco’s right hand back when he was running things. Now, with him gone, she had taken over, hand in hand with his daughter. Miguel had talked to you about her, mostly when telling you stories about his youth. She seemed to be in all of them. You had heard how she could take down multiple men as if it was nothing, or break chairs in half as if they were made of twigs. You thought she was probably the coolest woman of all of Zaun.

“Have a seat”said Sevika.

And with that, you moved to sit down at Miguel’s other side, just in front of her. She followed the movement of your hips as you took a seat. Sevika tried to get a peek at your thighs discreetly, barely resisting the urge to stare . The way your dress rode up slightly while your thighs covered the whole chair made her heart go slightly faster. Further up, she noticed the soft curve of your belly, round and inviting, the kind of place Sevika would love to rest her head on. She imagined having her hands around your belly, her nails almost digging into your flesh while you were on top of her. Sevika forced her gaze towards your face, pushing those thoughts away. You smiled softly when she made eye contact, making her heart stutter.

Sevika tried to play it cool, stealing glances at you from time to time. Beneath her poker face, Sevika was almost jittery. The way your body shook with laughter, how your lips wrapped around the rim of the glass every time you took a sip, the sweetness of your voice. All of it was messing with her head, the lust your body created overcoming most of her brainpower. She was silent for most of the conversation, adding some comments here and there. Sevika hated how easily her mind slipped into desire around your body. You weren’t doing anything special, yet her imagination was spinning out of control.

“You know, JJ told me he has some good new stuff. He’s coming over later”you mentioned, then turned to Sevika”y’all can come by if you want”

“That sounds good”added Sevika, earning a strange look from Miguel.

“I heard it’s pretty strong, mixed with something exotic”commented Miguel.

Sevika knew that JJ’s “good new stuff” would be some kind of genetically modified strain of weed. He would try to manipulate the plant to get stronger, better weed as a hobby, chasing the perfect high. Sevika didn’t smoke weed anymore, hadn’t for more than a decade. She just consumed shimmer now, and Miguel knew it. Still, she was intrigued by you, not the weed. Something about you made her want to linger, even if your presence made her feel like a fool for staring. Sevika wanted more time with you.

It didn’t take long for you to leave. You thanked Sevika for the drinks and said goodbye before getting up, showing her your smile one last time. Sevika’s eyes were fixated on your has you walked away. The way your wide hips moved from side to side with every step and how you ass moved were just the last nail in the coffin. Sevika knew she needed you as she tightened her grip on the glass.

You were a bit flirty around Sevika because she was undeniably attractive, but you doubted she saw you the same way. You didn’t hate your looks, but you felt like you were nothing to write home about, just average. Sevika probably had multiple women throwing themselves at her already. You didn’t think you would stand out. Still, Sevika seemed interesting and a good friend from what Miguel had told you, albeit a bit more reserved than you had expected.

“So… how do you know her?”asked Sevika once you had exited the building.

“We used to be coworkers”Miguel answered.

“Coworkers, uh…”Sevika repeated absent minded.

“You fancy her, don’t you?”

That question caught Sevika off guard, pausing mid sip. Had she been that obvious?

“I mean, she’s just your type”added Miguel, watching her reaction.

“I don’t have a type”Sevika scoffed.

Sevika had been with a lot of women before. Tall, short, big, small, light skinned, dark skinned, long hair, short hair, hybrid. She had been with all kinds of woman, but her preference remained. Bigger women always caught her eye first. Sevika wouldn’t brush off the smaller women that hit on her, but she wouldn’t go up to them either. Still, Miguel didn’t need to know that.

“Whatever”Miguel said, taking a sip” you haven’t smoked weed in, what, 15 years? but she brings it up and all of a sudden it sounds good?”

Miguel had a sly grin across his face. He enjoyed teasing Sevika. She stayed silent for a bit because Miguel was right. She didn’t have a good comeback. Sevika exhaled sharply, irritated.

“She and JJ are nice, that’s all”Sevika said.

“Sure thing”said Miguel, shiteating grin still imprinted on his face.

On the way to your place, Sevika was unusually restless, thoughts and heart racing. She wasn’t used to feeling that way, nor did she like it.

When Sevika and Miguel arrived, the room was filled with smoke, all windows closed. The scent was trapped, pungent, yet pleasant, slightly sweeter than usual. With the celling light off, the living room was illuminated by a few candles and a lamp. JJ lounged on the armchair while you were sat on a tiny couch in front of him, passing the joint back and forth. The coffee table between you was cluttered. A few lighters, a pack of filters, a pack of rolling papers, a grinder. And in the center a big, round bowl full of dried, pinkish leaves, JJ’s new project.

You smiled as Sevika sat by your side, your eyes redder than before.

“Here, glad you could make it” you said handing Sevika the blunt.

During the night, Sevika watched you with no caution. You figured she was zoning out, after all, JJ’s batch had turned out to be very strong. She had complimented your necklace and earrings earlier, so you didn’t think anything of her looking in that general direction.

But really, Sevika was taking in every detail of your lips and your neck, taking full advantage of her closeness. Her eyes fixated on your lips while you took a drag, the tip of the joint glowing, a faint stain of lipstick left around the filter. Then you would exhale, shaping your lips into an “O” that made them look plumper as the smoke dissipated around you.

Further down, your neck was adorned with a necklace that once shone, but had since adopted a dull, spotty pinkish color. Real silver or gold was expensive, so you just settled for what you could get. Sevika felt the urge to change that. Someone as beautiful as you deserved jewelry that wouldn’t tarnish, something that would last.

You weren’t the most discreet either. You knew she was older, around Miguel’s age, but that didn’t deter you that night. Alcohol and weed made you frisky on their own, together they made you downright horny. Having a woman like Sevika near you wasn’t helping the situation.

For all you knew, Sevika was the type to be bold, going after what she wanted. If she found you attractive, she probably would have made a move by now, right?. Still, you leaned on her more than you would with others, your legs touching hers and your hand going on her bicep every time you laughed. With each touch, Sevika would almost stop breathing, tensing up a bit under your hand. She wasn’t fond of physical affection for the most part, but yours was different. Nobody had really touched her like that in a long time. Sevika was surprised to find that she didn’t mind it, even liked it.

Your eyes kept drifting to her metallic arm . It was a big, probably heavy, metal structure covered in doodles. Sevika didn’t seem like the type to decorate things in that way, but Jinx and Isha were. Isha had taken to doodling in Sevika’s arm when she took it off or was distracted. Sevika would act grumpy when she caught the little girl in the act, but her heart melted looking at every little thing drawn on it and she wore it with pride. And, when Jinx repaired or updated Sevika’s arm, it would come back with at least one new drawing around it.

As you adjusted your position to get more comfortable, Sevika couldn’t help but look at your thighs. By that point you were fairly intoxicated, your moves a bit messy. She just kept staring as your dress rode up, showing a few centimeters of your plain grey underwear, dark, short hairs peeking through the sides. It was barely anything, but she felt the heat raising up. Sdvika clenched her jaw, forcing her eyes away from you. She felt worse than a fucking perv, getting riled up over just that. But she couldn’t help herself. She wondered how soft your pussy would be, probably as soft as the rest of you. Her eyes went back for a second peek. The thought of burying her head in between your thighs made her clear her throat.

Then you leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder as if it were natural. Sevika hesitated for a few seconds before wrapping her flesh arm around your shoulders. She knew nothing smart would come out of her mouth that far into the night, so she let the gesture speak for itself. Miguel flashed her a slight, knowing smile. Sevika ignored him, instead running her fingers up and down your soft upper arm, waiting to see your reaction.

You weren’t really paying attention, your eyes closing every couple of minutes because it felt just right, as if you were meant to do it. It was just so pleasant that you drifted off to sleep without even noticing. Sevika only noticed when Miguel and JJ started talking in a softer voice. She had been too busy thinking about what she would say or do to you based on your reaction to notice that your breathing got heavier, faint snores coming out of your mouth. Soon enough, Miguel made up some flimsy excuse for him and JJ to leave. It was just the two of you now.

Sevika tried to stay as still as possible, not wanting to wake you up. Her heart was going way too fast for no good reason. She just had someone sleeping on her shoulder, no big deal. Except, it was you. Sevika just stared at your face. Eyes closed, mouth half open, chest raising and lowering rhythmically. You looked at peace, probably having a very deep sleep fueled by the drugs consumed. Sevika still didn’t know what her next move would be. Ultimately she just sat there, enjoying your warmth against her.

Eventually, Sevika had to go to the bathroom. She shifted slowly, trying to slip from under you without waking you. Sevika moved around you as if you were some kind of bomb that could detonate at any moment. As she finally got on her feet, a slight grin appeared on her face, almost proud for not waking you up. That dissipated the second Sevika came back into the living room to find you sitting up on the couch, groggy but awake. Sevika sighed softly, then explained where JJ and Miguel had gone. You only hummed, reaching towards the table.

“Guess I’ll roll another one for us, then”you said, matter or factly.

Sevika watched your hands while you rolled the joint slowly. Neither of you seemed to be in a hurry.

Sevika had been quiet for most of the night. You figured she was the type to listen rather than talk. You decided to take matters into your hands and just started asking her questions. She humored you, sharing stories about her childhood antics. In turn, you launched into your own memories. You would always ramble on and on when you were intoxicated, jumping between slightly related topics. After a while, you decided to call it a night. Sevika was exhausted by then, ready to crash into bed for a couple of hours before heading to work. Still, she didn’t mind staying over for a bit more. You weren’t just easy on the eyes, you were easy to be around.

Before Sevika walked out of your home, you hugged her, thanking her for coming over. Sevika almost blushed, caught off guard by your body pressing into hers. You squished her tightly, while she hesitated before just lightly patting your back and awkwardly wrapping her arms around you, stiff as a stick. On her way home, all she could think about was your touch. You, on the other hand, thought you had made her uncomfortable, maybe gotten too close for her comfort. After all, you had only known each other for a couple hours.

That night, your hug kept replaying on Sevika’s mind. She wished she could go back in time and tighten her arms around you, explore every inch of your body with her hands while kissing along your face and neck. Sevika needed to touch somebody and be touched again. It had been just way too long for her and your body was calling to her.

When her hand made its way down in between her legs, she was already wet. With a sigh, Sevika’s fingers pressed against her clit and rubbed it with urgency while she closed her eyes, trying to remember every detail of your body. She imagined you on top of her face, feeling the pressure of your whole body weight in her while your thighs caged her in, heath and softness overwhelming her. Sevika whimpered, bitting her lower lip until she was finally relieved.

While she changed her sheets, an uncomfortable feeling washed over her. She felt ridiculous, like a horny teenager, getting off just thinking about your thighs and cleavage. As the embarrassment started to settle in, Sevika knew one thing for sure: you had something special.

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

perfectly imperfect.

summary: steve harrington comes into your campus workplace and flirts with you every chance he gets. after months of turning him down, you finally give in and decide to give him a try. after all, he’s the hottest ticket on campus among the girls, so there has to be something to it. right? 

word count: 3.5k

warnings/notes: smut, breast play, oral sex (brief; f receiving), grinding, handjob, premature ejaculation, catching feelings 

a/n: this is a college au with steve, based on a dream i had! i’m thinking he’s probably right around the age he was in season 4, so that would make him around 19-20 in this fic. as always, reader is 18+ and sorry if anything like this has been done before! i don’t have time to read fic much anymore, so i don’t know what is out there. i hope y’all enjoy!

also shoutout to my bestie @andvys for suggesting I write this dream as a one shot! ily and thank you for everything 🥺

_____

“what would you recommend, babe?”

you had to suppress an eye roll at the nickname. it was nothing new with steve harrington; every time he walked into the cafe where you worked, it was always the same old song and dance. he would walk in, smile at you, flirt, ask what you recommended, and would eat or drink it while sneaking the occasional glance at you. he was a blessing and a curse that you just couldn’t escape, not even outside of work. you had two classes with him–World History and Foundations Mathematics–and he would try to chat you up then, too. you knew his reputation around campus wasn’t a very good one; he was quite the player, apparently. you overheard girls talking about him at work and in class, talking about the time they had with him and how he never called or spoke much to them when he was done. you weren’t about that sort of life, but you had to admit you were growing curious about him. he had to be good if he was getting around and getting a reputation; the girls never said he was terrible. in fact, the opposite was true. you had been on many dates since you started going to college two years ago, but nothing ever stuck. you were mostly having flings yourself, but at least you let those down easily and didn’t just leave them hanging like he did. 

“i recommend what i always do every time you come in here,” you said. “the scones are good today; get one of those.”

“i think i have an appetite for something else,” he said, eyeing you up and down. “i think i want to experience something a little sweeter.”

“you think you’re really smooth, don’t you?” you asked, chuckling. “do you realize how many guys come in with the same line every day?”

“damn, i’ve got competition?” he asked, shaking his head. “here i thought i was special.”

“oh, you’re special, all right,” you said, grabbing a scone and putting it on a paper plate. “i don’t think you realize just how special you are.”

“well, that’s a relief,” steve said, digging in his pockets for money. “i really wish you’d go out with me, though.”

“why?” you asked. “so you could fuck me and leave me, like you do all the rest?”

he shook his head. “no, it would be different with you. you’re different.”

you laughed, shaking your own head. “how many women have you used that line on?”

“come on, harrington,” someone said from behind him. “i want my coffee.”

“just a minute,” he said, leaning in close to you. “one date. we don’t even have to have sex, if that isn’t what you want. just give me a chance.”

you eyed the line behind him, and knew there was no getting out of it this time. he wasn’t going to let up until you gave in, apparently. you sighed, rolling your eyes before meeting his. “fine. one date and i’m calling the shots.”

“thank you,” he said. “that’s all i wanted.”

“yeah, i’m sure,” you said. “it’s two dollars for the scone.”

he handed you two one dollar bills and a ten. “a little tip for you, babe.”

you went to hand it back, but he was already gone, the line moving forward as you were forced to be professional yet again.

****

the night of the date came faster than you wanted. he had pestered you about it every day in class and at work, until you finally set it for the following friday night. you were off work and didn’t have many classes that day, so you thought it would be perfect. it would give you a chance to get ready, to prepare yourself, and to brace for what might happen. you’d been giving it a lot of thought since he’d asked, and you decided that maybe you wanted to sleep with him, after all. you would see how the date went first, of course, but you had no reason to expect that it would be bad. steve seemed like a decent enough guy; he was just a playboy. most men his age were, though, especially college frat boys, so you didn’t know what else you honestly expected. 

you spent most of the afternoon working on yourself, and when the date finally came, he came to your room to pick you up. he couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful you looked, and you had to admit that he looked handsome, too. he was wearing a light blue button-up shirt that was done up to just below his neck, showing off a spray of chest hair underneath and accenting his muscular arms. he wore blue jeans that were nice and not torn, brown dress shoes, and his hair was done up in its usual fashion. he looked damn good; even you had to admit that. you followed him as he walked, and he offered you his arm after a little bit. you took it, feeling your heart flutter as you did so. you had already decided, upon seeing him, that you were going to sleep with him. you couldn’t wait to break the news to him at the end of the night.

he took you to a nice restaurant just off campus, an classy little italian place that served the best food. you’d been there a few times, but never on a date. steve paid for everything, and when you were both walking back to campus, you decided to spring the news on him. you stopped walking and he did, too, giving you a puzzled look. you just smiled at him, hugging yourself for a moment before walking over and standing directly in front of him.

“so i made a decision,” you said. “one that i think you’re going to like.”

“what decision is that?” he asked.

“i think i wanna sleep with you tonight,” you said. “if you’re up for it, i mean.”

“i’m always up for that,” he said with a chuckle. “but why the sudden change of heart? you seemed pretty adamant to not sleep with me before now.”

you shrugged. “i guess i couldn’t live with myself if i passed up on steve harrington.”

he laughed. “well, i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i passed up the most beautiful girl on campus, either.”

your cheeks heated at that, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze. “so…it’s on, then?”

“it’s on,” he said. “where should we go? my roommate is out with his girlfriend tonight, so my room might be the best bet.”

“okay,” you said. “let’s go there, then.” 

he walked you to his dorm building and up to his room, which was, in fact, empty. it was a little messy, with clothes strewn about the floor, fast food wrappers on the desks, beer bottles hidden not-so-skillfully under the two beds, and posters of half-naked women adorning the walls. you had to resist rolling your eyes for the millionth time; it was such a typical guy room that it was almost hilarious. steve walked over to the bed on the right, sitting down and gesturing for you to do the same. he kicked off his shoes and you did the same, taking a seat next to him as he turned to face you.

“is it bad that i’m a little nervous?” he asked.

you looked at him, shocked. “you, nervous? why would you be nervous?”

he shrugged. “i don’t know. i guess because i’m not used to being with a beautiful woman like you.”

“yeah, and how many girls have heard that?”

“come on, i’m being serious.”

“so am i.”

“i’ve never really used that on someone. you’re the first.”

“wow, i feel special.”

he put one finger under your chin, tilting your head toward him. “you are special, though. at least you are to me.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said. “are we doing this or not?”

“yeah,” he said, drawing you in closer. “come here.”

he put his lips to yours, kissing you gently at first. it stayed like that for a little bit, his lips working softly against yours as you followed his lead. soon, though, he was kissing you a little harder, his tongue pressing between your lips as they met. he mewled softly, grabbing your hips and pulling you into his lap. you straddled him, cupping his face as he kissed you more heavily. you whined, kissing him deeper as he began bucking his hips into yours. you picked up on his cue, grinding against him as you continued to make out. he groaned, grabbing your ass and guiding your movements. you moaned as well, continuing to move on him as he kissed you harder.

“fuck,” he said against your lips. “that feels so good.”

“you’re already getting hard,” you observed. “i can feel it.”

“i can’t help it,” he said. “you just have that effect on me.”

“oh yeah?” you asked, smirking at him as you leaned down to kiss his neck. “well, i feel pretty flattered, then.”

“i really wanna get your clothes off,” he said, tilting his head back to give you more room. “can i?”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “not yet. i wanna keep doing this for a little bit first.”

“you’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” he asked with a groan. 

you nodded. “that’s right.”

“you’re such a tease,” he said. “but that’s okay, i like it.”

“oh you do, huh?” you asked, toying with the buttons on his shirt.

“hey, i thought you said we had to wait.”

“i said you had to wait. i didn’t say anything about me.”

“that hardly seems fair.”

“i’m the one calling the shots here tonight, remember?”

that quieted him, and he mumbled a word of permission. you giggled, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing him back on the bed. you started kissing down the middle of his chest, down his stomach to the top of his jeans, and then slowly back up. his breathing was slightly heavier as you worked on him, and he drew you in for a passionate kiss as you came back up. he pulled you on top of him again, where you resumed grinding him for the moment. his hands squeezed your ass, kneading the flesh there as you rocked against him. you whined, moving a little faster as he gasped against your lips.

“you’re gonna make me cum already if you keep doing that,” he said. “please, can i take your clothes off?”

you giggled, nodding. “fine. but not the bra or the panties yet.”

he eagerly removed your shirt and pants, discarding them to the floor with the rest of the clothes. he studied your body with hungry eyes, his pupils enlarging as he took in every detail. you couldn’t help but flush under his gaze, your cheeks hot as he studied you. you pushed him back down, kissing him hungrily, your hips moving again as he slapped your ass. you laughed against his lips and you could feel him smiling, so you kept going. after a minute, steve’s hands found the back of your bra, playing with the clasp. you smiled, knowing that you’d tormented him enough, and you drew back to grin at him.

“you can take it off now,” you said.

“i can?” he asked.

“yep,” you said. “go ahead.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. he practically ripped the garments from your body, taking in every detail of your body as he did so. he licked his lips as he studied you, his eyes moving from head to toe and back again. your cheeks turned hot under his gaze, and you reached out to pull him closer. he went easily, his body pressed flush to yours as you chuckled.

“I think it’s your turn now,” you said. “it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

he nodded, hastily doing away with his clothes. as he did to you, you observed him from top to bottom, your eyes remaining glued on his cock. he was bigger than you expected, with good girth and even better length. a large vein ran up the underside, and his tip was pink and already oozing precum. you reached out to stroke him, and his lashes fluttered as he moaned under your touch. he looked at you with heavy eyes, his lips parted as his cheeks began to flush. you smirked at him, flicking your wrist as his body jerked slightly.

“who has the power now, huh?” you asked.

“you do,” he said, rutting into your hand. “god..”

“you know what I want you to do?” you asked.

“anything,” he said. “i’ll do anything you want.”

“i want you to eat me out,” you said.

“can i?” he asked. “please?”

“mmm hmm,” you said. “go ahead.”

steve turned you over so that you were lying flat on his bed. he kissed your neck, stopping at your breasts to give them some attention. he kissed over each one, sucking one nipple feverishly as he rubbed the other with his fingers. you moaned softly, grabbing his hair and giving it a slight tug as he, too, moaned. you giggled, running your fingers through his hair as he continued to work. he shivered, his eyes trailing up to look at you as he sucked your nipple a bit harder. you arched your back, bucking your hips impatiently as he trailed one hand down your body. he ran his fingers over your clit, barely ghosting it as you gasped. he smirked against your skin, his fingers ghosting your folds next. you wanted to slap him for being such a tease, but it felt so good that you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

“you’re so hot,” he said, his hands coming up to squeeze your breasts. he moaned as he watched your nipples harden even more, his thumbs circling them. “the hottest girl i’ve ever seen.”

“oh yeah?” you asked, whining as he started kissing his way down your body. “am i hotter than all those other girls you’ve been with, or did you use that line on them, too?”

“no, just you,” he said, winking up at you as he knelt between your legs. “i swear it’s just you. i told you, you’re different.”

you wanted to roll your eyes, but you didn’t. you were curious as to what he would be like, and now wasn’t the time to offend him or piss him off. you would take him at his word for now; it’s all you could do. you watched as he kissed your inner thighs, painfully slow, and as he kissed around your mound, also painfully slow. he was kissing anywhere and everywhere but where you really wanted him, and you almost pushed his head there. but you didn’t want to do that, so you waited, letting him get it out of his system. he did it again, a little faster, and then finally he was right where you wanted him.

his mouth felt like heaven, and it was a feeling that you’d never felt before with anyone else. his tongue was like velvet, wet and soft and perfect. he lapped at your folds lazily, using the tip of his tongue at first to tease you further. you moaned, sitting up on your elbows to watch him as he looked up at you. he groaned as he pressed his full tongue against you, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit and then back down. he did the same motion a few times, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. you arched, falling back on the bed and writhing as he sucked harder.

‘steve…” you moaned. “that feels so good.”

“oh yeah?” he asked, and you could feel him smirking against you. “you think it feels pretty good, huh?”

“yeah,” you said. “you’re good at this.”

his smirk widened, and soon he was fucking you on his tongue. he replaced that with his fingers after a few minutes, paying attention to your clit as he sucked again. his tongue swirled the small bud, moaning against it to add vibration. you gasped and bucked your hips, feeling the tightness beginning to settle in your lower stomach. you didn’t think you’d be so close already, but it had been awhile since you’d gotten off–with yourself or with anyone else. you were pent up, and it was about to come to a head very soon.

“i’m close already,” you told him. “please keep going.”

“already, huh?” he asked, grinning up at you.

“don’t flatter yourself,” you said. “it’s just been awhile.”

“sure,” he said, winking at you. “i’ll take your word for it.”

he kept going, fucking you harder on his fingers and sucking your clit harder. he shook his head back and forth, his eyes on you as he kept going. it only took a few more minutes before you were falling apart, cumming hard as you cried out his name. he kept going as you experienced your high, going slower and more gentle, watching as you arched your back, writhed, and tugged at his hair. he moaned, stopping once you came down from your high. he sat back and looked at you, and you could tell by the look on his face that he was proud of himself for what he’d just done.

“that’s a first,” he said. “usually i have to go for twenty minutes.”

“you poor thing,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “how ever will you survive?”

he chuckled, kissing his way back up your body. “you’re so sassy. i love it.”

“come here,” you said. “i wanna pretend to ride you.”

“pretend?” steve asked. “why not do it?”

“because i wanna make you work for it, that’s why,” you said, smirking at him. 

“but i’m about to burst already,” he nearly whined.

“now who’s the one who might cum too soon?” you teased. “come here.”

he lay back on the bed, tucking his arms behind his head. “okay, babe. i’m here. do whatever you want to me.”

you straddled him, positioning yourself over his erection. you began to grind against it, moaning at the heavy, throbbing feeling of him against you. he hissed, his hands coming out to grab at your hips. you kept going, gliding along him at a steady pace as he looked up at you. he leaned up after a few minutes and started sucking at your nipples, lying back against the pillows and pulling you with him after a moment. you moaned, biting your lip as you started moving a little faster.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he said, and you could tell that he was right. he was twitching, his cock throbbing against you as you continued to glide. “please.”

you giggled, getting off of him and taking his cock into your hand. “tell me what you want.”

“I—“ he began, but it was soon over. he came all over your hand, his body in spasms as he bucked into your hand. he squeezed his eyes shut, digging the heels of his hands into them as he came down from his high. “fuck, I knew that was gonna happen.”

you chuckled, holding your hand up to your mouth. “look at me, steve.”

he did so, looking at you with heavy eyes. you started licking the cum off of your hand, making eye contact with him as you did so. he moaned as he watched, and pulled you down for a kiss after you were done. you lay next to him, snuggling against him as he held you close. it was silent, save for steve’s heavy breathing, and you opened your mouth to say something. he beat you to it.

“wow,” he said. “i never…that’s never happened to me before.”

“no?” you asked. “never? not once?”

“no,” he said, shaking his head. “i think it’s because i like you so much.”

you looked up at him. “you do?”

“I do,” he said. “you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met before, y/n. i think I wanna keep you.”

you smile at him, leaning up to kiss him. “you wanna know something?”

“what?” he asked, brushing some hair out of your eyes.

you kissed him again, a bit more passionately. “I think i wanna keep you, too.” 

—

taglist: @andvys @littledemondani @etherealxwitch @eddieschains @happylilthought @trashmouth-richie @eiightysixbaby @thisbrokencapulet @sunkillerencoder @thatredlipped-classic

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hi! congratulations on 2k ivy! i've only recently stumbled into your acc but i'm loving all of your works so far!

you write so good i feel like im actually in it, iykwim!

anyways, if it's okay with you, can i get a 🧸 teddy dust for mattheo or theo with the prompt; "look, i know i probably should have backed off and i apologize." "no, honestly it was kind of hot." "what??" (from the 2nd angst prompt list)

i love your works sm you're amazing! cheers to 2k again!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ reckless

synopsis: ever since you met mattheo, you knew he had a temper. but when some creep at a party gets too close to you, he completely snaps. now you're in his dorm, everyone yelling, but all you can think about is how pretty he looks when he's angry content warnings: violence, fighting, blood, suggestive tension, possessive!mattheo, mutual pining author's note: hi love!! ୨ৎ omg first of all, thank you so much for your sweet words, you have no idea how much that means to me ♡ hope you love it, darling—mwah!! ‹𝟹 nav. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀2k celebration. ⠀

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 705

The party had been going fine—better than fine, actually. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the Slytherin common room was packed with students laughing, dancing, and generally causing trouble. But then, of course, someone had to ruin it.

You’d been trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of some Ravenclaw’s hand lingering too long on your wrist, his body crowding too close as he slurred something about how you were “too pretty to be this stuck-up.”

You were this close to hexing him when someone else stepped in.

More specifically—Mattheo. And more as in swung in.

The shift in the room was immediate. One second, you were glaring up at the guy, and the next, Mattheo was right there, shoving himself between you and the Ravenclaw.

His voice was low, lethal. "Touch her again, and I’ll break your fucking hand."

The guy scoffed, clearly thinking Mattheo was all talk—right up until Mattheo’s fist connected with his jaw.

The impact was loud. Gasps echoed around the room.

"For fuck’s sake, Riddle!" Draco groaned, already marching over.

Draco and Theodore had immediately shoved themselves between Mattheo and the guy before he could do worse. Lorenzo grabbed you by the wrist, tugging you back as Blaise and Pansy tried to calm the situation down. The guy scrambled away, cursing, but Mattheo still lunged after him, only stopped by Theodore gripping his shirt and yanking him back.

"Fucking hell, Riddle," Blaise hissed. "You wanna get expelled?"

"Expelled?" Pansy cut in, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she grabbed your hand. "More like murdered—if Snape finds out, he’s going to skin him alive."

"I’d like to see him try," Mattheo muttered, wiping his knuckles on his shirt.

"Are you dense?" Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you ever think before you act?"

Mattheo scoffed. "Oh, please. You lot would’ve done the same."

Theodore rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. "Doesn’t mean we’re not going to call you an idiot for it."

Eventually, after much grumbling, the boys dragged Mattheo upstairs to their dorm, with you and Pansy following close behind.

Once inside, the scolding resumed.

"If you break every guy’s nose who flirts with her, you’re going to run out of people to fight," Lorenzo pointed out.

"And fists," Blaise added.

"And brain cells," Theodore muttered.

"Bold of you to assume he has any left," Draco deadpanned.

Mattheo huffed, plopping onto his bed. "Whatever. Worth it."

Pansy shook her head before turning to you. "You okay, love?"

You nodded, offering a small smile. "I would’ve handled it, but..."

"But he had to go full knight-in-bloody-armor," Draco finished, rolling his eyes.

Blaise smirked. "Our resident guard dog."

Mattheo flipped him off. "Shut up."

Eventually, after much scolding (mostly from Pansy and Lorenzo), everyone trickled out, leaving you alone with Mattheo.

You exhaled, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall.

"Look, I know I probably should have backed off, and I apologize."

You let out a breathy laugh. "No, honestly, it was kind of hot."

Mattheo blinked. "What??"

You smirked, watching realization dawn on his face as he tilted his head at you, eyes darkening with mischief. "Ohhh. So you like watching me throw punches, huh? That’s a bit concerning, love."

You shoved his shoulder. "Shut up."

"No, no, this is good information. Noted." His grin was all teeth, but there was something softer in the way he looked at you now.

The air between you shifted. You could still see the adrenaline buzzing under his skin, the way his jaw flexed slightly, his lips still slightly parted like he had more he wanted to say.

So you decided to shut him up another way.

You grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss. His hands immediately found your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he responded instantly, tilting his head and deepening it like he’d been waiting for this.

When you finally pulled away, Mattheo was grinning like an idiot. "So, just to clarify—if I get into more fights, do I get more kisses?"

You rolled your eyes. "Try it and find out."

"Merlin, I love a challenge."

And just like that, Mattheo Riddle was absolutely, hopelessly gone for you.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[redheadspark]

hii!! may i request for the feb prompt session? specifically our boy eddie munson with numbers 2 & 5! like eddie pulling reader aside to confide abt their little crush to someone and reader just thinks oh ahah its nothing but as time goes on we can slide in prompt number 5 for ultimate pining from reader 🤓 perhaps even angsty,, mwhehe >:)

A/N - this is great for Eddie! Thanks for the request, I hope you like it!

Be Brave

Summary - Eddie asks you for advice.

Warnings - Fluff with a hint of Angst

“Hey!  I wanna talk about something with you,”

“If it involves Hellfire you’re on your own.  I’m not going to be getting you out of your shit hole situations anymore,” 

“No no!  I mean….that’s nice when you help with that, but no.  It’s something else,”

You poked your head out of your locker, seeing your best friend look at you with an image of nervousness on his face. His wild hair framing his face and his backpack half-hazardly over his shoulder.  You could see the look in his eyes that this was serious, and knowing Eddie Munson, he was rarely serious.

He was serious about a few things: Hellfire Club, his love for metal music, and the need to be his own different.  So what would it be?

“What’s going on, Eddie?” You asked as you grabbed a few books from your locker to put in your backpack.

“You won’t make fun of me?” He questioned, you grinning as you raised a brow at him.

“Since when do I ever, ever make fun of you?” You asked him in a teasing way.  

“I’m not going to answer that,” he replied, “Just…I wanna talk to you because you’re a girl and you probably are better equip at this than me,”

That made you pause again as you finally closed your locker and faced Eddie.  You both were close as friends, ever since you were recruited to join Hellfire club thanks to your older brother who knew Eddie.  They both were in the same grade and your brother knew you liked playing Dungeons and Dragons, he taught you the game. He figured you playing with Eddie would both get you something to do and to get you out of his hair.  Both worked, and you were a decent player at the table.  It made Eddie admire you all the more, not that he didn’t think girls could play Dungeons and Dragons, he just loved how you played.  The same vigor and bite, just like how he played. 

Which in return made him get a small crush on you.  Not that he knew that you were crushing on him back.

“I wanna tell this girl that I like her, but I don’t know how to do it,” he explained, your heart both beating a pinch faster and plummeting at the same time. You were never one to be yearning for drama that others went through, especially girls and their crushes. It seemed too time consuming and petty, which explained by you hardly had any girl friends. Just a few, but you liked it that way.  You had no time for drama and boy trouble, you had too much homework and after school activities to deal with than to figure out who liked who and who was dating

One of your friends was a cheerleader named Danielle, good friends with Christie Cunningham who was pretty much great with everyone at Hawkins High.  You and Danielle study together in the library on Tuesdays during Study Hall because you both were the top students in your science class, in all your classes really, and one afternoon she asked you about Eddie.

“What about him?” You whispered to her since the librarian was notorious for shushing those who were not whispering. Danielle grinned, chewing the back of her pencil as she was tapping her fingers on the top of her opened science book.

“He’s kind of cute, isn’t he?”  She asked you in a shrug.  You kept it cool, something you brother taught you since you were notorious for not having the best poker face. But deep down, it felt like she kicked you straight in the stomach and you were about to vomit all over the desk.  

“He’s alright,” You hummed, Danielle rolling her eyes.

“Oh come on, you don’t think he’s cute? With at will hair and how he loves his music?” She asked, keeping her voice low.  You wanted to roll your eyes, clearly knowing deep down that Danielle had no idea about the music he likes or the kind of hobbies he was into.  Maybe you were protective of Eddie since you two were close and confided in each other from time to time, and to hear that someone else liked him only as a surface crush, it was not sitting well with you.

“He’s my friend,” You could only reply, Danielle shrugging and going back to work on her notebook.  You passed for a few long seconds, thinking of the worst possibility that Danielle and Eddie would be a couple in the future.  It made you mad, sad, confused, and heartbroken at the same time. But you could only bury it down and not mention it.  That was social suicide, not even worth it.  

So it was buried, along with your own feelings for Eddie.

“The best thing to do is to tell her how you feel,” You explained as you and Eddie walked down the hall, side by side while Eddie watched you in earnest to hear your suggestion to him, “Girls like honesty, not flirting around the bush,”

“That sounds…weird,” Eddie explained with a confused look on his face.

“You know what I mean,” You reasoned as you grinned, “Look, Eddie, whoever this girl is, I bet if you tell them and you’re honest about it, it’ll work out.  You’re a great guy,”

“I think you’re forgetting that I have the nickname Eddie “the Freak” Munson around here,” He reminded you as you huffed.

“That stems from the popular kids who don’t know how to wipe their own asses,” You joked, Eddie was chuckling as you made it to your English class.  You turned to face him, seeing him watch you with warmth in his brown eyes and a small smirk on his lips.  Reach over to squeeze his arm gently within your fingers, you tilted your head up at him since he had a few inches on you.

“Be brave, Eddie.  Girls dig it,” You explained, then slipped into your class right when the bell rang. Eddie stood there for a few long seconds, drinking all you said before he jogged down the hall to get to his math class.  He could be brave, it was easier said than done but he could.  You made it sound so easy, like a normal chore to do throughout the day.  But maybe he could do it just to make you smile.

It gave him a pep in his step.

“I rolled a 20!”

“Roll for damage?”

“13?”

“Hell yeah!  How do you wanna do this?”

You leaned over the table, your D20 dice perched in front of your spot along with your papers and notepad etched out in notes as you were describing how you were killing the beast in the middle of combat.  The others around the table were cheering, egging you on as you were drinking in the victory that was in your hands.  

Eddie, in his Dungeon Master chair, was watching in amazement a massive grin on his face as you were using your hands, and your eyes lit up in joy while you were giving every single detail with precision.  He’s seen the others in Hellfire give great details when they would end or an enemy, but you were on a different level.  You loved storytelling, and the way you spoke, and played the game with creativity and enthusiasm. He wished the others would take a page out of your book.

In that moment as the others cheered, Garret clasping you on the shoulder and Dustin and Mike cheering loudly, Eddie watched with a cocked head and love in his eyes.  You were laughing, blush on your cheeks and your light brown hair dancing in the low lighting made his heart flutter.

You didn’t know that Danielle was shot down by Eddie a few days before, Danielle asked him out to study together after school and Eddie politely declined.  He knew Danielle was not the one for him, and she never held a flame for him to be entranced to.  Not like you, Eddie was a moth to your flame and he liked it that way.  He knew what he liked, and he remembered what you told him in that hallway.

You told him to be brave.  And maybe after the game, he would finally ask you on a date.

The End.

[youngsadlesbian]

hey! i saw you were taking requests so:

a fic where popular!wanda and popular!reader have always been rivals. they love eachother as much as they hate eachother because they were childhood bestfriends, not until wanda left without a word, leaving reader alone.

i think it would be great if they have a scene wherein they get stuck in a bathroom after a couple of friends locked them in there, and they start talking about what actually happened.

ANDDDDD wanda getting pissed at reader's boyfriend, even if she has one as well.

i hope you consider this, thank you!!

BETWEEN LOVE AND WAR

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

summary: rivals since wanda left without explanation, you love each other as much as you hate each other. when you're locked in together, buried feelings resurface. between stolen kisses, jealousy, and secrets, you must decide—keep fighting or finally surrender to love.

a/n: thanks for the request hope u like it <3

word count: 2k

warnings: angst if you blink, enemies to lovers but mostly fuff.

Highschool hallways were your battlefield.

From the moment Wanda Maximoff waltzed back into your life years after disappearing without a trace, she had been nothing but a thorn in your side. The childhood best friend you had once adored had morphed into your greatest rival, someone who matched you in everything—popularity, grades, social influence.

If you threw a party, Wanda threw a bigger one. If you aced a test, Wanda’s score was somehow a fraction higher. It wasn’t just a competition anymore—it was war.

And she played dirty.

“Nice speech, printsessa,” Wanda cooed as she brushed past you after the morning assembly, the smug smirk on her lips igniting a fire in your chest. “Almost convincing. Too bad I wasn’t impressed.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to take a steady breath. “That’s funny, Maximoff. Because last time I checked, you were watching my every move like your life depended on it.”

Her green eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something else lurking beneath the surface—something almost… regretful? You ignored the nagging thought.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she purred, stepping closer until you could smell her familiar vanilla perfume. “If I wanted to watch something entertaining, I’d look anywhere but at you.”

A slow smirk curved your lips. “Then why are you still here?”

For a split second, Wanda faltered. But before you could dwell on it, she rolled her eyes and spun on her heel, walking away as if she hadn’t just invaded your space like she owned it.

That was how it always went between you two—like a storm brewing just beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to explode.

But nothing could have prepared you for what happened next.

It was supposed to be a harmless prank.

The idea was simple—your so-called friends thought it would be hilarious to lock you and Wanda in the girls’ bathroom until you either killed each other or worked things out.

“You guys need to fix your tension!” one of them had laughed before slamming the door shut behind you. The sound of the lock clicking into place sent a wave of dread through your stomach.

You whirled around, heart pounding. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Wanda groaned, banging a fist against the door. “Let us out, idiots!”

No response.

You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing your temples. “Perfect. Just perfect.”

Wanda turned to glare at you, arms crossed. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” You scoffed, incredulous. “How the hell is this my fault?”

“You have terrible taste in friends.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, and you would know all about loyalty, right?”

The second the words left your mouth, the air between you shifted. Wanda tensed, her expression hardening as if you had physically slapped her.

And maybe, in a way, you had.

A thick silence stretched between you.

Then, Wanda exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I had my reasons,” she muttered.

Your heart clenched. “For leaving?”

She didn’t look at you. “Yeah.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to stay composed. “You never even said goodbye, Wanda.”

The raw emotion in your voice made her flinch.

You hated the way your chest ached. Hated the way her absence had wrecked you when you were younger.

Wanda finally met your gaze, and for the first time in years, her walls cracked. “I was scared,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “My father got into trouble. My family had to leave town overnight. I didn’t have a choice.”

Your breath hitched. “You did have a choice. You could have told me. I would’ve understood.”

“I didn’t want you to understand,” she snapped, frustration laced in her voice. “I wanted to protect you. I thought leaving without a word would make it easier for you to forget me.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Well, congratulations, Wanda. It didn’t work.”

The weight of the past hung heavy between you.

Then, in the quiet, Wanda’s voice softened. “I missed you.”

Your heart clenched at the admission.

But before you could respond, a loud click echoed through the air, and the door swung open.

Your friends had let you out. But neither of you moved.

Because everything between you had just changed.

\*/

You knew something was wrong the moment you spotted Wanda at the party later that night.

She was standing across the room, her gaze locked onto you like a predator watching its prey. And she was pissed.

At first, you thought it was just the unresolved tension from earlier.

But then you followed her line of sight—straight to your boyfriend, who had an arm draped around your waist.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Wanda’s lips, but there was no humor in it. “Didn’t know you had such low standards, printsessa.”

Your jaw clenched. “Excuse me?”

Wanda stepped closer, her presence overwhelming as she tilted her head, eyes dark with something dangerous. “Your boyfriend. He’s a walking red flag, sweetheart. You can do better.”

You glared at her. “Oh, so now you care about my love life?”

Her expression darkened. “I’ve always cared.”

The words made your breath hitch, but you refused to show weakness. “Funny. You didn’t seem to care when you disappeared.”

Something flickered in Wanda’s gaze, but before she could respond, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Wanda.”

You turned just in time to see her boyfriend—a tall, broad-shouldered guy who looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine—wrap an arm around her waist.

Wanda’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t move away.

Your stomach twisted, but you refused to acknowledge the feeling.

So instead, you smiled, voice dripping with false sweetness. “Well, isn’t this adorable? You’re acting jealous while you have a whole-ass boyfriend.”

Wanda’s grip on her drink tightened. “It’s not the same.”

You scoffed. “Oh, so you can date whoever you want, but I can’t?”

Her eyes burned into yours. “I don’t want you with him.”

Your heart stuttered, but you masked it with a smirk. “And why the hell not?”

Wanda took a step closer, voice low. “Because he’s not me.”

For a moment, the world stopped.

Then, before you could process what was happening, Wanda grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from the crowd, away from her boyfriend, away from everything.

Because this war between you and her?

It had never been about hate.

Wanda’s grip on your wrist was firm but not painful as she dragged you out of the party and into the cool night air. The music from inside was still pounding, but it felt like a distant echo compared to the erratic beating of your own heart.

“What the hell was that?” you snapped, wrenching your arm free the moment you reached the empty backyard.

Wanda didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she ran a frustrated hand through her dark hair, her green eyes flashing with something wild, something desperate.

“You know what that was,” she finally said, voice tight.

You let out a humorless laugh. “No, I really don’t. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re just pissed I’m not still waiting around for you like some lovesick idiot.”

Her jaw clenched. “That’s not fair.”

You scoffed. “Oh, now you care about what’s fair?”

Wanda took a step closer, invading your space. “I never stopped caring.”

Your breath hitched. The heat of her presence, the intensity in her gaze—it was suffocating in the best and worst ways.

“Then why did you leave?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, raw and aching. “Why did you let me believe you just didn’t give a damn about me anymore?”

Wanda exhaled sharply, looking away for a moment. “I told you—I thought it would be easier that way.”

“For who?” Your voice cracked, betraying you. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t easier for me.”

Silence.

Then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it—

“I couldn’t bear to say goodbye to you.”

The confession landed like a punch to the gut.

For so long, you had convinced yourself that Wanda had abandoned you without a second thought. That she had simply moved on. But the way she was looking at you now—like you were the only thing in the world that had ever mattered—made that lie crumble to dust.

She took another step closer. You didn’t move away.

“I missed you,” Wanda murmured.

Your chest tightened. “Then why did it take you so long to tell me that?”

Her eyes flickered to your lips for just a second. “Because I was scared.”

Your pulse roared in your ears.

“And what about now?” you whispered.

Wanda reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, her fingertips lingering against your skin.

“I’m still scared,” she admitted, voice barely above a breath.

But she didn’t pull away.

And neither did you.

You weren’t sure who moved first.

One second, you were standing there, staring at Wanda like she was the answer to a question you didn’t even know you had been asking. The next, her lips were crashing against yours in a kiss that tasted like frustration, longing, and years of unresolved emotions.

It was messy, desperate—more of a battle than a kiss.

Your hands fisted in the fabric of her jacket, pulling her impossibly closer. Wanda’s fingers gripped your waist like she was afraid you’d disappear if she let go.

The intensity made your knees weak, made your mind spin.

But just as quickly as it started, reality slammed into you like a freight train.

You pushed her away, panting. “Wanda, I—”

Her expression was unreadable, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Don’t tell me you didn’t feel that,” she said, almost pleading.

You swallowed hard. “I have a boyfriend.”

Wanda flinched at the reminder. “You don’t love him.”

Your silence was all the confirmation she needed.

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Of course. Of course you don’t.”

You ran a shaky hand through your hair, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. “And what about your boyfriend, huh? What does this mean for him?”

Something dark flashed across Wanda’s face. “He was never you.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

The weight of her words settled between you, heavy and undeniable.

For so long, you had been fighting—against each other, against your feelings, against the past. But maybe… maybe you had been fighting for the wrong reasons.

Maybe you weren’t rivals. Maybe you were just two people too afraid to admit that you had never really stopped loving each other.

And maybe… it was time to stop fighting at all.

\*/

You ended things with your boyfriend the next day.

It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t pretty. But it was necessary. Because Wanda had been right—your heart had never truly belonged to anyone else.

And as for Wanda…

Well, she wasn’t far behind.

She showed up at your locker that afternoon, her usual smirk replaced with something softer, something real.

“So…” she started, leaning against the lockers, “you free later?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? Planning on dragging me into another emotionally charged confrontation?”

Wanda grinned. “Tempting. But I was thinking something more along the lines of an actual date.”

Your heart did a stupid little flip.

You pretended to think about it. “Hmm. That depends. Are you finally ready to admit that you like me?”

Wanda rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the blush creeping up her neck.

“Shut up,” she muttered before grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Maybe, after all this time, it finally was.

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - 44.

Warning : body modifications (scarifications, split tongue, face implants, eyes tattoo.)

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “thanos with a reader who has multiple piercings. Like, in his ears, tongue, mouth, nose” -anon

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English // was thinking about a similar thing the other night 💭 reader w/ lots of piercings and tattoos and some body modifications so I hope it’s okay 🥺

Thanos was waiting in line, one person before him emptying their cart slowly. Bored, he looked around.

Then you appeared behind him, waiting to pay for the items in your bag. When he saw you he had to do a double take. A not so discreet one.

Like, woah.

You had so many piercings on your face and ears, tattoos creeping up here and there on your skin.

He thinks you look really cool and can’t stop trying to look at you to get more details about how you look. He’s shamelessly turning around to simply look at you.

You gave him a polite but rather awkward smile which he took as an invitation to talk.

“Do you know me ?” He asked with a cocky grin.

“Do you know me ? You’re the one who’s staring.”

He ignored your comment, asking another question instead, trying to sound casual.

“You look cool. How many piercings do you have ?”

“44.”

“Huh ? All on your face ?” Now he was shocked. He could see you had a lot but he didn’t expect that number.

“Most of them are, but no.” You smiled, not elaborating. He looked at you up and down, trying to think where the rest could be.

“Wait- the… your dick ?”

You laughed at his straightforwardness.

“Tongue.” You said, sticking it out, showing your split tongue with a piercing on each side. “But dick too.” You added with a wink as you walked past him, emptying your bag for the cashier to scan the items.

Thanos was stunned. Oh, he had to get your number.

You put everything back in your bag and paid everything, smiling and waving at Thanos as you walked out the store.

He quickly gave his stuff to the cashier, before shoving them in any pockets he had, almost throwing his money at them to rush outside to go after you.

“Hey ! Pretty boy !” He called after spotting you, quickly running to your side. “Do you really not know me ?” He asked once he was next to you.

“I do. You’re that rapper. Thanos.”

He proudly combed his hair with one hand at your words.

“And ?”

“And what ?”

“Did you like me ?” He asked with a smug expression.

“No, sorry, I was rooting for someone else. Stopped watching when he left.”

He looked at you, shocked.

“Huh ?”

“The one with five consecutive ‘A’ in his name, all lower case except the middle ‘A’.”

“Oh, him.” He tsked, rolling his eyes. “He’s a fucking loser.” He said, making you chuckle.

“Didn’t you lose, too ? I saw the memes.”

He sighed, rubbing his hair in frustration.

“It’s not like that, you don’t understand, I still should’ve won. They were all against me. I really should’ve won !”

“Okay, okay. I believe you. What did you want anyway ?”

He looked at you up and down with a small pout, thinking before smiling and answering.

“Your number. You look cool. But your taste in rappers isn’t.”

You laughed at his comment.

“Okay, give me your phone.” You shrugged.

He handed you his phone and you typed your number with your name. You gave it back to him and he immediately dialed the number to make sure it wasn’t fake.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and he smiled, hanging up.

He was really annoying at first because he kept trying to get into your pants to see your piercings. He slowly calmed down about it, realizing you wouldn’t let it happen like that.

He’ll ask you all the basic questions. Did your piercings and tattoo hurt, which one hurt the most, what’s the meaning behind your tattoos, how much did it cost you, where did you get them ?

He’ll definitely show you his back tattoo. Taking off his shirt without any warning before showing off his back.

“Thanos…” You read aloud, thinking. “Did your tattoo artist know you ? I wonder if they thought you were just a big marvel nerd ?”

“Of course he knew me. I’m a fucking legend.”

“Did he tell you that ? Did he really say ‘yes I know you’ ? Or is it just your ego speaking ?” You asked, amused, placing your hands on his shoulder to make him face you.

He glared at you, putting his shirt back on.

“Want me to prove it to you ?” He asked, pulling up his phone to show you the Instagram page of his tattoo artist, it was full of lettering tattoos, they all looked really good despite how fast he was scrolling.

Then he clicked on a post, his freshly tattooed back appearing on the screen with a caption under the picture where the artist was tagging and calling him “the Great Thanos”.

He looked smugly at you.

“Ah, I’m so disappointed. Really wanted him to just think you’re a weird fan of that purple alien thumb.” You said as he hit your arm, unamused.

He definitely wants more tattoos but has so many ideas and keeps changing his mind all the time.

One day he told you he wanted a tattoo of his own lyrics. His favorite part of his best rap. But when you promised to get it tattooed as well if they were cool enough, he backtracked. Not that he didn’t want that tattoo anymore, but because he wants to make better bars, worth being on your skin.

It’s stupid, you have tattoos without meaning. They’re just here because you found them pretty. But he wants his tattoo to be your favorite one on your body.

He’s also thinking about more piercings. Mainly the ears and maybe some on his face, hesitating between a bridge, eyebrow piercings or dimples.

“Why not the lips ?” You asked, looking at your phone, slumped on the couch next to him.

“Don’t it fuck up your teeth ?”

“It can. Especially if you play with it. Or bite on it.”

“Do you ?”

“Yeah, fuck. Look at ‘em.” You replied, putting your phone to your side to show him your teeth. “I once bit too hard on a Pringle with my piercing by my tooth and a bit broke.”

“How the fuck do you bite so hard on a fucking Pringle you chip your teeth ?”

“I really wanted to eat.” You replied with a laugh, your focus returning to your phone. “Look, spider bites would look good on you.” You said, placing your phone before him, the front camera activated with piercing filters on.

Thanos grabbed your hand, angling the phone better as he observed himself, tapping on the screen to display more piercings.

He pouted, thinking.

“Yeah but eyebrow piercings…” He took a selfie and showed you the result, not before saving it on your phone so you’d have a picture of him.

“Why not both ?” You replied, tapping on the screen so the spider bites would appear at the same time as the eyebrow piercings. “Both sides or only one eyebrow ? You don’t look like a symmetrical kind of guy. More like- chaos ?”

“I like chaos.”

“Yeah I figured.”

“You… really are into fucking symmetry. And 44 ? How does it work with a dick piercing ?”

“I have two. Frenum and a dydoe.”

“Two ?” He looked at you surprised. “Why can’t I see ?” He whined, slumping down further, making you laugh.

“Just google them and you’ll have tons of visuals.” You snickered, rubbing his hair.

“Yeah but I want to see ‘em for real ! Are they healed ?”

“Yep.”

He sighed. A piercer saw your dick twice but you refuse to let him see it even once ? What kind of friendship is that if you don’t know what your friend’s dick looks like ?

You told him you wanted to go back to Japan to do some more body modifications, wanting small horn implants on your forehead.

Thanos is absolutely hooked. He’s so hyping you up.

You took him on your trip to Japan to visit a bit but mainly for these bodmod, having booked only a couple days. Though you were a bit stressed, you were mainly amused by Thanos who was silently staring all along. For once his mouth remained shut. But as soon as you were out he was yapping again.

He was literally jumping up and down holding your arm, wanting to show you to everyone.

Despite looking more intimidating than him due to all your piercings and tattoos, if someone tries to annoy you around Thanos, he will put himself between you two, down to fight the person getting on your nerves.

Even if it’s just old people displeased with how you look.

You generally place your hands on his shoulders to keep him from doing anything, smiling. You’re not a violent person so you prefer to calm him down rather than letting the situation escalate further.

You have a lot of pictures together, mainly selfies he took and sent you and a few from concerts or clubs you went to together.

You were going through your phone, your storage was full as you deleted some unused apps and photos. Then you saw it, the photo Thanos took the other day. You dialed his number.

“Why did you save it ?” You directly asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

“What ?”

“You took a selfie, the day we were looking at the piercing that would suit you. Were you afraid I didn’t have a picture of you ?”

“Ah.” He laughed. “Yeah. You need to have more pictures of your boyfriend anyway.”

“My-” You scoffed, chuckling. “My boyfriend ? I’ll let you know I already have tons of pictures of you on my phone, dumbass. It’s full of your stupid purple head.”

“You save the pictures I send you ? Aw. So cute, I love you too.”

“No. My phone automatically saves them... And I don’t know how to disable it !”

“How old are you again ?” He laughed. “Are you complaining about having pictures of your boyfriend ?”

“My storage is full, Thanos. Stop sending me selfies. I’ll block your ass. On all platforms.”

“Thanos ? Not T ?” You rarely ever called him by his full stage name, finding it too cringe.

“I’m serious.”

“Would you prefer dick pics ?”

“I dare you to try.” You replied. “No- wait- no- don’t. You’re actually capable of doing it. I don’t- I don’t wanna see your dick.”

Quickly you received a text from him with an attached image. You clicked on it, hoping it wasn’t a dick pic.

[Thanos]> “:(”

You sighed, relieved to see it was just yet another selfie.

“Don’t scare me like that !”

Thanos laughed.

“It’s natural to see your boyfriend’s dick at some point. Don’t be so scared of it.” He said in a sing-song tone.

You snorted. The nerves of this guy.

“Stop- you know what ? Okay. Alright. You’re my boyfriend. What do you plan on doing now ?”

“Well now I’m allowed to send a dick pic.”

“Sure. If you want to see the quickest breakup in history.”

“Ah, come on !”

You hung up, going back to deleting all the photos that didn’t interest you.

[dreamykira]

Only Regret Remains I THANOS x reader

˗ˏˋWARNINGS ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ Use of drugs (Thanos is high), character death, mentions of shooting, spoilers!!!!, a little angst that turns into fluff. ps! if i missed any then pls let me know:)

˗ˏˋAuthor's Note ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ Heyyyy!! So I wrote this based on a request that this lovely user sent me: @nuttyflowerheart

I hope you enjoy!!!!

ALSOOOOOO i haven't written anything like this in a long long time so pls if u have any recommendations, do let me know!

word count: 1137

The Mingle game had been chaotic.

At first, the rules seemed simple—find a group and enter a room before time ran out. But as the numbers dwindled and the last round was called, desperation took hold.

Two.

Fifty rooms. A hundred and fifty people. It wasn’t about strategy anymore—it was about survival.

And in those final seconds, you thought Thanos would choose you. You felt it, deep in your chest, the silent reassurance that no matter how brutal this game got, the two of you would stick together.

But then he turned his back on you.

His fingers curled around Nam-Gyu’s arm, dragging him toward the nearest room.

You barely had time to register it, your heart pounding as you spun to find someone—anyone—before the doors locked. And then—

Gyeon-su.

Gyeon-su was on the ground, scrambling to get up, his face contorted in panic. You didn’t even see what happened—only that Thanos was already running, dragging Nam-Gyu toward an open room. And in that split second, as Gyeon-su reached for you, you realized—Thanos had pushed him.

You didn’t even have time to react before someone else pulled you into a room at the last second. And then the gunfire started.

By the time you made it back to the dormitory, it was clear that Gyeon-su was gone. And Thanos—your Thanos—was acting like nothing had happened.

✧˚ · .

The dormitory was suffocating. Not because of the stale air or the distant sobs of players mourning their partners. No, it was the presence of him.

Thanos stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall with that same unreadable expression, arms crossed over his chest as if this was just another night. But it wasn’t.

You sat on the edge of your bed, heart hammering in your chest, trying to process the events of the last game. Your fingers trembled, clutching at the thin sheets as if it could anchor you to something solid. Something real.

But nothing felt real anymore.

"You’re angry," Thanos finally said, his voice even, detached. His pupils were still blown wide, the drugs still lingering in his system. "I get it, baby. But you’re here. We both made it."

You let out a breathless laugh, but it was hollow, devoid of warmth. "You get it?" Your eyes snapped to his, burning with unshed tears. "You left me, Thanos. You walked away and didn’t even look back. You—" Your voice cracked. "You let Gyeon-su die."

He rolled his jaw, exhaling slowly through his nose. "I did what I had to."

"Don’t," you spat, standing up so fast your knees almost gave out. "Don’t you dare give me that bullshit.” 

Thanos tilted his head, watching you with an almost lazy indifference. It made your stomach churn. "Weakness gets you killed in here, darling. You know that."

Your hands clenched into fists. "He was my best friend."

Thanos sighed, rubbing his temples. "And I’m your boyfriend," he murmured, stepping closer. His voice softened, coaxing, like he could smooth this over with pet names and careful words. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wasn’t thinking—"

Your breath hitched at the familiarity of his tone, the same one he used late at night when the weight of the game pressed too hard against your chest. But now, his words felt empty.

You shook your head, stepping back. "No, Thanos. You were thinking. You made a choice. And it wasn’t me." Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. "You turned your back on me. You made it clear that there is no ‘us’ when you chose Nam-Gyu."

He didn’t reply, just nodded once, exhaled sharply through his nose, and walked off with Nam-Gyu, who had been observing the conversation from the side. 

Maybe it was the drugs still coursing through his system, dulling his emotions, keeping him numb. He didn’t fight for your forgiveness, didn’t try to explain himself. 

And that hurt. More than anything else.

So you stayed away.

You curled up in your bed, facing the wall, body curled tight like you could somehow make yourself smaller, like you could shut out the ache in your chest. Gyeon-su was gone. And Thanos… you weren’t sure if he had ever really been yours at all.

✧˚ · .

Hours passed.

The drugs faded.

And suddenly, it hit him.

Thanos sat on the edge of his bunk bed, hands clasped together, his head bowed. His heart pounded—too fast, too hard. Every second that ticked by felt like a hammer slamming into his ribs.

What the fuck have I done?

He remembered the look in your eyes, the betrayal that cut deeper than any wound he’d ever taken. He remembered the way you didn’t even fight with him, like you had already decided he wasn’t worth it.

And Gyeon-su… Fuck.

He had been high. Out of his head, not thinking, not feeling. It had all been instinct—push, grab, run. But now, sitting there, stone-cold sober, it clawed at him.

He had killed Gyeon-su.

He had lost you.

His fingers trembled as he ran them through his hair, gripping tight, trying to breathe. He needed to fix this. He had to fix this.

✧˚ · .

You didn’t hear him approach.

Didn’t move when he knelt down beside your bed, resting his hand lightly on your arm.

"Baby," he whispered, voice hoarse, broken. "Please."

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry again. "Go away, Thanos."

"No." His grip tightened, just slightly. "I can’t. Not after—fuck, I don’t even know where to start."

Silence.

Then, finally, you turned your head, meeting his gaze. His eyes were red-rimmed, tired, full of something you hadn’t seen before—pure, raw remorse.

"I wasn’t thinking," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I was high, and I—I wasn’t seeing things the way I should have. I should’ve picked you. I should’ve fought for us." His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I should’ve saved Gyeon-su."

Your chest ached. "But you didn’t."

He exhaled sharply. "I know. And I can’t take it back. But, baby—please—don’t let this be the end of us.*"

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Because fuck, you wanted to hate him. You should hate him. But he was looking at you like you were the only thing holding him together, and maybe… maybe you were.

You took a shaky breath. "I don’t know if I can forgive you."

"I don’t deserve it." His voice cracked. "But I swear to you, darling—if you give me another chance, I will never, never leave you again."

His hand found yours, fingers tentative, uncertain.

You hesitated—just for a second—before squeezing back.

"Okay," you murmured. "But you’re sleeping on the floor tonight."

For the first time in hours, Thanos let out a soft, breathless laugh. "Alright, pretty girl"

And maybe, just maybe, you could piece this back together.

[angelackless]

LOVE LETTERS & HEART-SHAPED COOKIES

Jensen Ackles X controversially young!reader

WITH JENSEN EVERYDAY FELT LIKE VALENTINE'S DAY TO YOU. There were always a flower,jewelry, your favorite chocolate's waiting for you somewhere in the house. Jensen loved spoiling you, and he took every chance to do it, but on Valentine's day he wanted to do something more meaningful, since it was your first time celebrating it together.

He even asked for help from his mother, your mother,your friends, even Gen to make sure that what he does is good and you'll love it.

He got everything ready by the time you arrived home, he cooked your favorite food, poured out that red wine he knows you like, lighted some scented candles and had your presents in a bow printed wrapping paper, and one in his jeans, and no, this time it wasn't the one that he makes you feel good with every day.

When you entered the house you were met with the dimly lit house, you took your shoes and coat down, putting it into it's place.

"Jensen?" you walked deeper inside the house "are you home?" instead of an answer you felt two strong arms wrapped around you and for a second you were ready to hit him with your purse in case someone broke in, but then he finally spoke up

"happy Valentine's day, princess" he kissed your cheek

"you scared the shit out of me!' you said and turned around, giving a snack to his chest "don't do that again!"

"Just wanted to suprise you,baby" his hand found their way back to your waist and pulled you closer to him "you had a hard day?I made you your favorite, and after we ate, we can put on some music, dance, you can open your presents" he rubbed your sides "hm?sounds good?"

And you did just that, you two ate the food he made, which was delicious by the way, and then moved to the living room. You went upstairs to get the present you made for him.

''so who starts?'' you asked as you sat down on the couch next to him

"you" he answered smiling

"alright,so it's nothing expensive,but I hope you'll still like it" you said and handed him the wrapped gift. He took it from you and carefully opened the gift, which was a photo album that you've made, you left lyrcs,photos, sweet messages for him in it, you wanted to give him something meaningful and figured he would like this, since it's not fully finished you two can fill it up with all the memories you make in the future. "You like it?'' your words held some excitement, and worry in them as you watched him flip through the pages,sometimes stopping to read what you've written down in there

"Like it?I love it,this is like the best gift i've ever gotten" he looked up to meet your gaze "I love it, princess" he pulled you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead "can't wait to put more pictures in it, we should just have one whole page for you in lingerie" he added with a cheeky smile which made you rolled your eyes

"okay,safe something for your birthday too" you said shaking your head

"oh, that's what i'll get for my birthday?"

"it's a suprise" you answered giggling

"Well,speaking of suprises, open yours now" he handed it to you "hope you like them" he added and watched you open it. You opened it excitedly.

He had gotten you the necklace from Pandora that you've mentioned you wanted, a bottle of your favorite perfume, he knows you need one because you've been complaining that you almost finished the bottle you've been using, there were some heart-shaped cookies he made for you.

"You made this?" you asked staring at the cookies

"Yeah, although Gen helped me with the decorating,but I made everything else"

"I love all of this so much" you wrapped your arms around him tightly "thank you so so much''

"there's one more thing" he pulled away from you and cleared his throat "so...i've been thinking about us, how I now sure that you're the woman that I want to marry, have kids with, move to some small town and live on a farm" he searched for something in his pocket and then he stood up and kneeled down before you ''(y/n), will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?" he asked, holding the shiny, gold ring in his fingers.

For moments you sat there shocked, you didn't know if you wanted to scream or cry from happiness, after seconds of staring at him you managed to nod your head and speak "yes,yes,yes,and yes"

"you got me worried for a second, sweetheart" he slipped the ring on your finger and kissed your hand.

"so that means I can call you my husband now?" You asked smiling

"yes,you can call me your husband, wife" he chuckled and pulled you into a kiss.

You were sure this was your best Valentine's day so far in your whole life.

[mymindcreatedthis]

Bonding w the rivalry 18+

reader x Kristie Mewis

Plot: Kristie and Reader have major beef/ issues with each other. One night after a game Leah, Tobin and Christen lock them in a room together and force them to work things out and give them some quality bonding ideas to do 😉

Warning: Smut!

Word count: 6.5k sorry kind of a long one

*Y/n’s pov*

It's currently 3-0 England and we are playing the USA. I've scored the perfect hat trick [left foot right foot and header] for my goal celebration. I've been doing an eagle impression and holding up the amount of goals I've scored.

As we go to our side of the pitch for play to resume. Kristie Mewis trips me up and says "Fuck you asshole" and I just fall to the fall laughing and then I get up and say "hmm like to see u try blondie". Kristie then grabs my shirt and starts fighting with me.

Leah and Lindsey spot us and break us up. Leah says into my ear "keep it up but don't start fighting keep it to shithousery you're crucial to us". The game then resumes and nothing else happens and the game ends 3-0 England.

In the dressing room, Leah immediately comes over to me and says "go to room 069 at 7pm sharp and wear something nice." I wait for the girls to shower and then I go shower and get changed and get on the bus.

Once all the girls are on the bus we leave the fields and head back to the hotel. I get off the bus and walk to the hotel room Leah told me to go to. I go inside and see Kristie Mewis sitting on the bed. 

“Oh fuck this.” I say.

I turn around to leave but the door closes behind me. I pound on the door. “Leah let the fuck out right now.” 

Leah chuckles. “Nope you two aren’t leaving that room until you get your shit together.” 

I sigh and look over at Kristie. She doesn’t say anything, she just glares at me. I sigh and rub my fingers through my hair. 

I awkwardly clear my throat. “So… um how long have you been in here for?” I ask. 

Kristie glares at me. “5 minutes.” 

I nod and look around the room. I walk over to the opposite side of the room and sit down keeping my distance from her. I pull out my phone and groan when I see my phone is dead. 

“Great.” I say. I sigh and place my phone on the ground.

“What?” Kristie asks. 

I look at her. “My phone is dead.” 

Kristie sighs and rolls her eyes at me. “Mine is too. Hoping I had some battery so I didn’t have to talk to you.” 

I glare at her. I couldn’t take it anymore. “What the fuck is your problem Kristie?!” 

Kristie is shocked at first and looks at me. “You know exactly what my problem is.” 

I laugh. “No I really don’t.” 

Kristie looks at me. “You're an asshole Y/n you're a very dirty player and don’t care if you make sloppy tackles.” 

I clench my jaw as she says this to me. “I’m not a dirty player nor do I make sloppy tackles. And if I do, I don't do it on purpose.” 

Kristie laughs at my comment. “Yeah okay Y/n keep lying to yourself.” 

I quickly stand up and walk in front of her. “Let not forget you're the asshole who tackled me and took me out and then stepped on my stomach with your cleats as I was down on the ground.” I say hatred in my voice.

Kristie immediately stops talking and looks away. This made her go quiet. “What’s wrong Mewis? Cat got your tongue?” I ask. 

“T-That was….” Kristie trials off not knowing what to say.

“That was on purpose.” I say completing her sentence. 

Kristie looks at me. I lock eyes with her. “What’s wrong? Got nothing to say?” I ask. 

Kristie stops talking and just sits there quietly. She looks over at the desk and gets confused. 

“Ugh what’s that?” Kristie asks. 

I sigh and look over at the table and see a piece of paper. I make my way over to it and grab it. Kristie looks at me impatiently. 

“Well… what is it?” She asks. 

I don’t say anything, I just hand it to her. Kristie takes the paper and starts reading the paper. I make my way over to the door. 

“Leah this is bullshit. Let me out, I’m not doing what that paper says.” I say. 

I hear Leah and someone else giggle. “Looks like you're gonna spend all night in that room.” 

I groan and sit down on the ground with my back against the door. Kristie reads the paper but doesn’t say anything. We just sit there in silence. There was tension in the room, there was a lot of tension but we didn’t know what to do about it. 

We just sit there in silence for a couple of hours. I stared at the window at the night time city view, it was getting late, it was 10 pm. This was completely pointless as we weren't making any progress. 

Kristie is the first one to break the silence. “We….um.” She trials off. I look over at her as she begins to talk. “Look at the paper, we should do the tasks.” 

I sigh and grab the paper from her. “I don’t know if we should Kris.” I pause and look at her. 

Kristie sighs and gets up and comes over to me. I pause when I see her standing in front of me. 

“Let’s just go down the list.” Kristie says. 

I nod and give in. Kristie bites her lip and stands there awkwardly. “Um, what's the first one?” She asks. 

I clear my throat and blush a bit. “T-Tit job.” I say. 

Kristie pauses. She bites her lip and looks down at my bulge and smirks. “Someone likes the sound of that.” 

I blush darkly. “S-Shut up.” 

Kristie is a very attractive girl. Kirstie smiles, she bites her lip and steps towards me. Our breathing gets a bit heavy as she rests her head against mine. 

Kristie leans In and kisses me.

I’m shocked at first but start kissing back. Kristie breaks the kiss, she smiles and steps back and slowly slips off her shirt and bra. 

I bite my lip and check out her nude chest. “You're so beautiful Kris.” I say. 

Kris smiles. “Thank you.” She bites her lip and moans as I reach up and massage her tits. 

Kris giggles as this makes me hard. “Sit down on the bed.” 

I nod, I do as Kris requests and sit on the edge of the bed. I blush and pause. “C-Can we do it with your bra on?” I ask shyly. 

Kris smiles and nods. “Yeah of course.” She quietly giggles. “That’ll make it even sexier. 

Kris puts her sports bra back on. I bite my lip as Kris grabs the waistband of my shorts and boxers and slides off my shorts and boxers.

Kristie gasps in shock as my cock springs out once it’s freed from its confinement. “Holy fuck Y/n y-your huge.” 

I giggle and bite my lip. “Thank you.” 

Kris gets on her knees and kneels between my legs. I guide my dick under her sports bra and between her tits. 

I bite my lip as she covers my dick in spit. I moan and lean my head back and close my eyes as she slowly strokes my dick with her tits. 

"Mmm f-fuck, you're tits feel amazing wrapped around my dick baby."  I moan. 

Kristie bites her lip. "Mm fuck my tits, mm cum all over my tits and face baby." Kristie says seductively. 

I moan as she strokes my dick with her tits faster. My legs shake and buckle in pleasure. Kristie bites her lip and locks eyes with me as she continues to stroke my dick with her tits. 

I moan loudly. In pleasure, my breathing gets heavier letting Kris know that I was close to cumming. I bite my lip as my pre cum leaks out, and oozes onto Kristie’s tits. 

Kristie cutely giggles. "Someone's about to cum." Kristie teases. 

I moan loudly in pleasure as Kristie strokes my dick with her tits faster. After 3 more minutes of an amazing tit job I feel my balls tighten. 

"Kris baby, I'm gon" I'm unable to warn her in time. 

*Cumshot/Facial* 

I can't take it anymore, cum shoots out my dick and Oozes onto her tits and under her bra. My cum leaks through her bra, Kris giggles as my cum continues to shoot out of my dick and onto her tits. Some of my cum shoots onto her cheeks, lips, and chin. 

Kris cutely giggles as my cum oozes and spurts onto her face. "Fuck Y/n you made my face and tits your personal coloring book." Kristie giggles giggles.

I giggle and blush darkly at her comment. Kris giggles and licks her lips. “W-what’s the next task?” I ask. 

“Blow job.” Kristie smirks. 

I giggle as Kristie pushes me back onto the bed. Kris licks her palm, she wraps her hand around my dick and slowly strokes my dick. I moan as she does this. 

"Mm fuck." I moan in pleasure. 

Kris giggles and strokes my dick a bit faster, I moan in pleasure once I'm hard Kris takes my dick in her mouth and slowly bobs her head. 

"Mmm fuck." I moan. 

Kris hums against my dick and bobs her head a bit faster as she starts playing with my balls. I moan in pleasure and run my fingers through her hair.

"Mmm shit." I moan. 

The tip of my dick hits the back of her throat, I moan and hold her hair up in a pony tail as she continues to give me head.

"F-Fuck." I moan as she bobs her head faster. "Fuck Kris, just like that." I moan. 

Kris sucks the soul out of my dick and bobs her head faster and massages my balls, I moan in pleasure as I feel myself getting closer to cumming. 

"Kris baby, I'm close." I moan in pleasure. 

Kris continues to give me head, I moan as I feel my balls tighten. 

Throat pie 1: 

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load in her mouth. Kris chokes and gags a bit as I cum in her mouth, Kris swallows my load and sucks me dry.

Kris collects every last of my cum. 

My dick falls from her mouth, Kris smiles and shows me a mouth full of cum. Some of my cum drips down her chin. 

I smile and rub her chin. "Swallow my cum baby." 

Kris smiles and swallows my cum. "Mmm daddy you taste good." Kris says. 

Kristie wastes no time and takes my cock back in her mouth. Mm fuck her mouth was warm and felt amazing around my cock. 

I moan and run my fingers through Kristie’s hair. I quietly moan as Kris slowly bobs her head. Kris slightly chokes and gags as my tip hits the back of her throat. 

Kris reaches down and toys with my balls as she bobs her head a bit faster. Fuck it's only been 3 minutes and I'm already close to cumming. 

Fuck Kristie really knows how to give head. I quietly moan and grip the Bed sheets, and rest my legs on her shoulders. I grab her head and help her bob her head faster. 

After 5 more minutes of an amazing blowjob I feel my balls tighten. My precum leaks inside Kristie’s mouth letting her know I was about to bust. 

Throat pie 2: 

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load in Millie's mouth. I grab hold of Mills head and push her head further down my cock as I finish inside her mouth.

I bite my lip and quietly moan as I continue to unload my seed in her mouth and down her throat. 

Kristie chokes and gags a bit as I cum. Kris lifts her head up a bit and swallows my load. Kris licks up every drop of cum and swallows it. Kristie giggles and takes my cock back in her mouth. 

Fuck this felt amazing. Kristie Mewis is a pro at sucking dick. I moan as my cock plops out of her mouth. I moan as she licks and swirls her tongue around my tip. 

"Mm suck my cock Kris." I moan and massage my tits. 

Kristie blushes and smiles. "Yes daddy." 

I bite my lip, Kristie locks eyes with me and takes my cock in her mouth. I moan, my hand finds the back of her head. 

"Fuck Kris your mouth is so nice." I moan, leaning my head back as Kris continues to suck my cock. 

She places her hands on my thighs as she continues to give me head.

 "Fuck Kristie fuck, keep going ugh."I moaned as my grip in her hair tightened as she bobs her head faster.

Her head Silva going all over her lips dripping down her chin. She continued to feel my throat, I moaned loudly in pleasure as I took her left boob in my hand and squeezed it lightly as I felt my balls tighten. 

Throat pie 3: 

"Ooh fuck, Kristie fuck." I moaned. I didn't have time to warn her Kris as I held down her head on my cock as I exploded in her mouth and down her throat. 

Kristie choking and gagging on my cum. "Fuck Kris." I moaned. 

Kristie lifts her head and swallows my load. I smirk as Kris wipes the leftover spit and cum off her face.

Kristie smiles, she comes back up and kisses me. I moan in the kiss as I taste myself on her lips. 

“W-What was the next task?” I ask. 

Kristie giggles and blushes. “Pussy eating.” 

I flip us around, I lay Kristie on the bed Kristie giggles as I flip us around. I smile and kiss her deeply. Kristie smiles against my lips and kisses back.

I break the kiss, I slip off her shirt and bra and toss them off to the side. 

 "So beautiful." I say kissing her neck. 

Kris giggles and moans as I kiss and suck on her neck leaving hickys. I kiss from her neck down to her chest, I kiss and suck on her boobs and leave hickys on her boobs. 

Kris moans in pleasure as I do this. I kiss her boobs down to her toned stomach/ abs. I kiss and suck on her stomach and abs leaving a few hickys. Kris moans as I do this, I kiss from her stomach down to her stomach down to her shorts and stop at her shorts. 

I look up at her silently asking for permission. Kris nods, I slide her shorts down her legs and toss them off to the side. I kiss and suck on her inner thighs, Kris moans and runs her fingers through my hair. 

I lick her folds. "Mmm fuck." Kris moans. I smirk, I slip in a finger and slowly finger get as I begin to eat her out. 

"Fuck Y/n." Kris moans. 

She massages her boobs and grinds against my finger and face as I continue to eat her out. I slip in a second finger and finger go a bit faster as I eat her out. 

"Mmm fuck, right there. Right there." Kris moans. 

Kris rests her legs on my shoulders and wraps her thighs around my head a bit as I continue to eat her out and finger her faster.

I feel her walls clench around fingers letting me know that she was close to cumming. Kris moans in pleasure and cutely grips the sheets. 

*Kristie pov* 

I moan loudly in pleasure and grip the sheets as Y/n fingers me faster as she continues to eat me out. I moan as she rolls her tongue on my clit adding different amounts of pressure. 

"Holy shit, Fuck daddy." I moan in pleasure. 

Y/n sucks on my clit as she fingers me faster. I moan loudly in pleasure as I feel that familiar knot forming in my stomach. 

"Fuck....Y/n baby I'm gonna cum." I moan. 

Y/n continues to suck on my clit and fingers me even faster than before. I can't take it anymore, I cum all over Y/n's fingers, face, and chin. Y/n helps me ride out my high. 

Y/n smirks, she takes her fingers out of me. Y/n licks and sucks my juices off her fingers and wipes my juices off her face. Y/n comes back up and kisses me, I moan in the kiss as I taste myself on her lips. 

"Mmm you taste amazing baby." Y/n says.

I smile and kiss her. "Fuck you really know how to eat a girl out." I mutter panting and trying to catch my breath. 

"Breathe baby, catch your breath. We will continue once you get your breath back." Y/n smirks teasing my folds with her fingers. 

I moan as she does this. "Y-Y/n don't t-tease." I moan. 

I smile. “Next task is Cumshot.” I smirk and look at Kristie. "Get on the bed and get on all fours." I ordered. 

Kris gets on the bed and gets on all fours. "Mm give me that ass." I say and move behind her. Kristie moans as jumps as I spank her ass. 

"Please please fuck my ass Y/n." Kris begs. 

Without an answer I slip my hard cock into her ass. I grab her hair and pull it, allowing me to go deeper inside her. I spank her ass and firmly pull her hair as I slowly thrust in and out of her. 

"F-Faster." Kristie cutely begs and moans in pleasure. 

I moan and thrust in and out of her faster. My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room. My eyes locked onto the sight of her ass rippling with each thrust. Her ass was huge and the way it moved was memorizing. 

The best view to look at. I move my hand to my boob and roughly massage my tits as I continue to thrust in and out of her a bit faster. 

I moan as the urge to cum gets stronger. "Y/n baby, I'm gonna cum."

Kristie moans and cums on my dick. 

I moan as my balls tighten, I quickly pull out and quickly make Kris lay on her back and stroke my dick. 

Cumshot:

I moan, cum shoots out of my dick. Cum shoots and spurts onto her tits, stomach and Abs. Kris giggles and bites her lip. 

"That's it, let it out." Kristie says. 

I moan and slowly stroke my dick the last of my cum oozes and spurts onto her stomach and abs. Kristie smiles, I lean down and kiss her. Kristie smiles against my lips and kisses back. 

“Last one.” Kristie smiles. “Creampie.” 

I giggle and bite my lip. “Mm yes please.” 

Kristie giggles at my comment. 

Kristie lays on her side, I grip her leg and hold it in the air with my free hand as I rub my tip through her folds causing Kris to moan at the feeling. 

"Mmm f-fuck, Y/n please I need you." Kristie moans. 

I waste no time and immediately slide my throbbing dick inside of her dripping pussy, and begin to thrust in and out of her slowly. 

"F-Fuck, you're so tight baby." I moan in her ear. 

"Mmm all for you baby." Krisite moans as she turns her head and kisses me. 

I'm shocked at first but immediately start kissing back. Once I knew Kristie was used to my size I picked up the pace and thrust in and out of her faster. 

"Keep your leg up in the air." I softly moaned. 

Kristie does as I say and keeps her leg raised in the air as I gripped her ass with my spare hand, forcing a moan

out of Kristie’s mouth. 

"Faster, please fuck me faster Y/n." Kristie moaned. 

I thrust in and out of Kristie faster than before, my balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room. 

"Where shall I cum Kris?" I ask as I carry on fucking her. 

"I-Inside... of me." Kristie cutely stutters as she moans.

"Are you sure baby? I know it says creampie but I can pull out and finish on you." I moan. 

"Yes, Yes baby, stop asking questions and just cum in me. Make me your cum slut." Kristie moans. 

"Mmm fuck okay baby." I replied, a fire set alight in my stomach as I begin to fuck her even faster. 

Moving my hand from Kristie’s ass to her tits. I grip right tit tightly as I begin to kiss her neck as I fuck had faster and harder than before. 

"Fuck Y/n. I'm going to cum." Kristie moans. 

"Same baby, cum for me." I moaned as I felt the feeling of my balls tighten. 

"FFFucccckk I'm cumming. I'm cumming." Kristie yelled as she reached her high, and squirts all over my abs, dick and legs. 

"Kris... I'm gonna cum." I yell in pleasure. 

Creampie #1: 

I couldn't take it anymore, cum oozes out of my dick filling up Kristie’s pussy filling her to the brim. A final spank to her ass I slowly pull out, cum leaks out of her pussy and onto the bed sheets. 

"Fuck Kris, you've made such a mess all over my thighs stomach and the bed sheets." I giggle.

Kristie bites her lip and moans. “Fuck please Daddy I need you. Ugh please keep going mm just fuck me please just fuck me.” Kristie begs. 

I smile and kiss her. “Hehe okay baby.” 

“Sit on the bed baby.” Kristie says. 

I smirk, I sit on the bed. I sit on my legs and out my legs together under my ass sitting on them.  Kristie joins me on the bed, she sits on my lap and guides my length inside her. 

We both moan as she takes my length deep inside her. Kristie moans and leans her head back on my shoulder. I moan, I grab her tit with one hand and firmly place my hand on her hip. 

Kristie cutely giggles and moans as I kiss and lick her neck. Kristie moans and takes a moment to adjust to my size. 

Kristie giggles. “This pussy feel good clenched around you baby?” 

I moan and nod. “Mm so tight and warm.” 

Kris moans and slowly moves back and forth on my cock. I moan and kiss her neck leaving hickys and roughly massage her tits. I moan as Kristie slowly slides back and forth on my cock. 

I squeeze her hip a bit tighter and smash my lips against hers. Kris breaks the kiss and rests her head Against mine. Kristie moans loudly in pleasure and moves back and forth on my cock faster. 

I moan as the urge to cum gets stronger. “Ugh f-fuck.” I moan in pleasure. 

It’s only been 10 minutes and I’m already about to bust. Kristie moans and leans her head back and moves back and forth on my cock even faster. I moan, I reach down and rub her clit. 

Kristie gasps and moans as I do this. “Mm fuck…fuck.” Kris moans. As she continues to move back and forth on my cock. 

I moan in pleasure, Kristie breathing gets heavier letting me know she was close to cumming. 

“Mm… someone close?” Kristie moans. 

I moan and grip her hip. “Mm fuck, I’m really close.” 

Kristie giggles and moans. “I can feel your balls about to explode.” Kristie moans. “You’re throbbing so much in there.” Kristie moans. 

I moan,  Kristie moans and cums.

creampie #2:

I moan loudly in pleasure, I can’t take it anymore and let go. Cum shoots out of my cock and fills up her entrance filling her up to the brim. 

“You’re filling me up.” She moans. “So warm inside me.”  Kristie moans. 

We both moan as Kristie slowly moves back and forth on my cock helping us ride out our highs collecting the last of my load in her pussy. 

We both moan as my cum leaks and oozes out of her and onto the sheets as she continues to move back and forth on my cock slowly. 

“That’s it, give it all to me.” Kristie moans. 

I moan as the last of my cum unloads in her pussy. Kristie moans, she smiles and kisses me deeply. I smile against her lips and kiss back. We both moan as Kristie slowly gets up. 

My cock falls limp, cum immediately oozes out of her and oozes onto the sheets. I giggle as Kristie moans and rubs her clit admiring the sticky mess I left behind in her pussy. 

Kristie smiles and kisses me. I smile and kiss back. I bite my lip as  Kristie lays me back on the bed. I lean my head back against the pillow behind me.  Kristie smiles, she moves her leg over my hips on the bed her other leg still on the ground. 

Kristie places her hands behind her on my legs for better support. “Mm put it in baby.” Kristie cutely pleads. 

I smile, I stroke my cock and slowly push my tip in. We both moan as  Kristie slowly sinks down on my length taking my cock deep inside her. I bite my lip and place my hands on her ass. 

We both moan as  Kristie slowly slides up and down on my cock. Kristie moans and grips my thighs a bit more tightly. 

“Mm fuck your so tight and wet.” I moan in pleasure. 

 Kristie giggles and moans. “Mm fuck so big.” She moans. “I can’t stop moving my hips.”  

Her skin slaps against mine as ours and the other girls moans fill the room. I moan and squeeze her ass a bit.  Kristie moans and slides up and down on my cock faster. 

“F-Fuck.” I moan in pleasure. 

 Kristie moans and throws her head back. “Mm f-fuck it feels so good.” Kristie cries out in pleasure. 

“Mm you like that baby? Daddy deep inside you stretching you out?” I ask. 

 Kristie moans and slides up and down on my cock faster and faster. “Mm fuck…yes I love it. I love you stretching me out.”  Kristie moans. 

I moan loudly in pleasure as I feel myself getting closer to cumming. 

“Mm fuck Kris baby... Ugh s-slow down I’m gonna cum.” I moan in pleasure. 

 Kristie giggles and moans. “Cum in me daddy.” Kris moans. 

I moan and watch  Kristie as she continues to slide up and down on my cock. 

“You close baby? You gonna bust your load deep inside my pussy.” Kris asks seductively. 

I moan and nod. “I’m gonna fill you up.” I moan in pleasure. I moan as my balls tighten. 

Creampie #3:

 Kristie moans and cums all over my dick. I can’t take it anymore,  Kristie slams her ass down on my dick. Cum oozes and spurts out of my dick and fills up Kristie entrance filling her up to the brim. 

“Mm you’re filling me up to the brim.”  Kristie moans. “Fuck it’s so warm and thick.” She moans. 

We both moan as she slowly slides up and down on my cock helping us ride out our highs. Kristie moans and slowly slides off my cock. 

Cum began to leak out of her pussy and drip onto my lap, abs and onto the sheets. I smile and rub her clit as I admire the sticky mess I left behind in her pussy. 

 Kristie cutely giggles and moans as I do this. “Mm fuck that felt so good.”  Kris moans. 

I smirk, I scoop up whatever cum I could and rub it against her pussy and on her clit. Kris moans and bites her lip. 

“Mm so good.” I smile and kiss her.  Kristie smiles and kisses back. 

I smirk and squeeze and spank her ass. Kristie giggles and moans as I do this. “Get on all fours baby.” 

Kristie smirks, she moves to the middle of the bed and gets on all fours. Kristie giggles and shakes her ass.

I bite my lip, and check out her ass as she shakes it. I smirk, I get up and get behind her. I slap her ass, Kristie moans and jumps as I slap her ass. 

"Fuck daddy I love when you spank me." Kristie moans. 

She moans as I slap her ass again. I smirk and rub my dick through her cum filled pussy. 

"Such a good slut." I moan as I slide my dick back inside her cum filled pussy. 

We both moan, I place my hand on her hip. I grab her hair with my other hand I wrap her hair around my hand. I slowly thrust in and out of her as I pull her hair. 

"Fuck....fuck....fuck." Kristie squeaks out with each thrust. 

"Like that baby? Daddy's dick deep inside you stretching you out?" I ask teasing her. 

Kris moans and nods. "Fuck yes, I love your dick deep inside me stretching me out." 

Kristie moans and throws her ass back against me as I continue to fuck her cum filled pussy faster and faster as I pull her hair. 

I pull her close to me. We both moan as this causes my dick to go a bit deeper inside her. Shit this is so good I'm balls deep inside her. 

"Shit I don't think I'll last long babe.

Ugh your grip is amazing." I moan loudly in pleasure. 

Kristie giggles and moans throwing her ass against me sliding back and forth on my dick faster helping me out. 

"I guess I should help you out and make you cum deep inside me huh?" Kristie moans. 

I moan loudly as I feel myself getting closer to cumming. Fuck her pussy was tight and warm and felt like heaven. 

"Mmm I'm close." I moan. 

"Ugh shit....me too." Kris moans. 

I moan loudly my balls slapping against her skin as our moans fill the room. I moan loudly in plans her walls clench around my dick. 

Kristie throws her ass back against me as she slides back and forth on my dick faster and faster. Fuck shes really gonna make me cum. 

"Ahh Kris baby I'm close." I moan in pleasure as I feel myself getting closer. 

Kris moans and goes faster and harder. I moan in pleasure as I feel myself getting closer and closer to cumming. 

Kristie screams in pleasure and squirts again. Kris squirts all over my dick, and on the bed sheets. 

"Baby, I'm really close." I moan. 

I feel that all to familiar feeling in my balls as Kristie goes faster and faster. 

Creampie #4: 

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load deep inside her. Kristie moans and cums all over my dick. We both moan as I shoot ropes of thick sticky cum deep inside her painting her walls white. 

"Fuck I feel so full." Kristie moans. 

I smirk, I help Kristie ride out her high. Once we both come down from our highs, I slowly pull out of her. Cum oozes out of her and glazes her folds and drips down her thighs and onto the bed. 

I slap her ass again. Kristie moans as I slap her ass, I lean down and kisses her ass. Kristie giggle and moans as I kiss her ass and lick my cum off her folds.

“Mm fuck.” Kristie moans. 

I giggle and spank and squeeze her ass again. “Mm so fit and thick.” 

Kristie smiles and faces me. She grabs my hand and helps me off the bed. “2 more rounds daddy.” 

I giggle and nod. “Okay baby.” 

Kristie sits me in the chair Kristie turns her back to me, she grabs my dick and helps guide my tip in and then slowly sinks down on my dick. 

I moan once I'm back in her cum filled pussy. Kristie moans in pleasure as she takes me back deep inside her.  Kristie moans as she takes me deep inside her. 

"Fuck. You're really deep in there." Kris moans. 

I moan in pleasure and place my hands on her hips as she slowly slides up and down on my dick. 

Kristie moans and slides up and down on my dick a bit faster than before. 

Her skin slaps against mine as our moans fill the room.

“Mmmm fuck, feels so good." Kristie moans. 

I moan and help her slide up and down on my dick as she goes faster and faster. I moan and lean forward and kiss her neck, and back as she continues to ride me. 

"Mmm fuck, right there Kristie." I moan in pleasure. 

 Kristie moans and goes faster and faster her skin slaps against mine as our moans fill the room. Fuck I don't think I can last much longer. 

The urge to cum was getting stronger. “Ugh fuck, your grip is so good.” I cry out in pleasure. 

"Don't pull out, cum inside me." Kristie  moans. “F-Fuck." Kristie moans loudly in pleasure. 

"Like that baby? Daddy's dick deep inside you stretching you out." I tease her as she moves her hips back and forth fast and hard.

"Fuck yes, daddy I love it so much." 

Kristie moans out in pleasure. 

"Mmm fuck,  K-Kristie baby I'm close." I moan In pleasure. 

"Fuck I'm close daddy, I'm gonna cum."  Kristie moans. 

"Me too." I moan. 

"Yes daddy, pump me full of your cum."  Kristie moans. 

I moan in pleasure as I feel that all too familiar feeling in my balls.  Kristie moans in pleasure. After 2 more minutes I feel my balls tighten. 

Creampie #5: 

Kristie moans in pleasure and slams her ass down. I can't take it anymore, and bust my load deep inside her.

Kristie moan and cums all over my dick, we both moan as I shoot ropes of thick sticky cum deep inside her and paint her walls white.

I help Kristie slide up and down on my dick slowly helping her ride out her high. Once me and  Kristie come down from our highs, she slowly gets up sliding off my dick. 

Thick cum glazes her folds. Cum immediately pours out of her, cum drips onto my lip, my dick and on the ground, some goes on my abs. 

 Kristie moans and sits on my lap and leans back against me. She moans as my cum continues to drip and slowly ooze out of her. 

“Mm fuck.” She moans. 

I giggle, I kiss her neck and wrap my arms around her and hold her close to me. 

“I’m sorry Y/n. I’m sorry for everything.” Kristie says sadly looking back at me. 

I nod, I kiss her neck and shoulder. “I know baby. I’m sorry too.” 

I lean in and kiss her deeply. I break the kiss and rest my head against hers. 

“Mm one more round.” Kristie says. 

I giggle. “One more and then I’m done I’m all tapped out.” 

Kristie giggles. I move Kristie and get up. I lay on the bed,  Kristie joins me on the bed I lay her on top of me her back to my tits. 

I spread her legs with mine. I smirk as she's now in reverse cowgirl. Kristie moans and shudders as I rub her clit with my dick. "Mmm fuck." She moans.

I smirk as her legs shake and buckle in pleasure as I do this. 

“Put it back in. Put it back in daddy." Kristie cutely begs. 

"Mmm yeah slut? You want daddy's dick back inside you?" I ask, teasing her.

"Mmm fuck please daddy, Ive been such a good girl. I'm such a slut for your dick and cum. Please, I want more."  Kristie says. 

I smirk and grant her wish. I slide my dick back inside her,  Kristie moans as she takes my 11 inches back deep inside her. I moan as her walls immediately clench around me. 

 Kristie moans and leans back against me as my dick is back inside her cum filled pussy. I place my hands on her hips, I spread her legs a bit more with mine and slowly thrust up into her pussy. 

"Mmm fuck, right there. Ugh just like that."  Kristie moans. 

I moan in pleasure and thrust up into her faster. My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room, fuck her pussy felt so good. She had an amazing grip, her pussy felt like heaven. Mmm so Wet and warm. 

"Fuck baby you're so tight and warm." I moan. 

I thrust up into her faster and harder. Kristie screams in pleasure and grips the sheets, I make her look at me and make out with her. We both moan in the kiss as I continue to bottom out in her pussy. 

We break the kiss, we rest our heads against each other's. "Feels so good, you're not pulling out babe, you're not pulling out until you cum in me." 

I smirk. "Yeah slut? You want more, such a naughty girl." 

We both moan as I thrust up into her pussy faster and harder. "Fuck, I'm gonna squirt!" Kristie screams in pleasure.

I smirk, I slap and tease her clit. Kristie moans and shudders as I do this,  Kristie moans loudly in pleasure and squirts. I smirk as I feel some of her juices go on my thigh. She squirts on the blankets and sheets. 

We both moan, I continue to thrust up into her faster and harder. I moan as I feel myself getting closer to cumming. "Kristie baby I'm close." I moan. 

"Me too. Don't stop, don't stop." Kristie moans. 

My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room. I rub her clit with my thumb at a fast pace. My breathing gets heavier letting Kristie know that I was close to cumming. 

"Yes cum in me, cum in me." Kristie moans. 

I moan loudly In pleasure as I feel that all too familiar feeling in my balls. 

Creampie #6:

I can't take it anymore, I thrust up into her and bust my load deep inside her. Kristie moans and cums all over my dick. We both moan as cum oozes and spurts inside her painting her walls white. 

I slowly thrust up into Kristie . I helped  Kristie ride out her high. I slowly thrust up into her as the last of my cum oozes and spurts inside her. 

I moan and slowly pull out of her, my dick falls limp. Cum immediately pours out of her. Cum coats her folds and drips onto the blankets and sheets. 

I smile and kiss her. Kristie smiles against my lips and kisses back. I break the kiss, Kristie smiles and cuddles with me. I pull the covers over us. 

I kiss her head and hold her close to me. I smile as Kristie falls asleep, I hear the door unlock. Leah, Tobin and Christen walk in. 

I hold my finger up to my lips. Their eyes widen and they smirk. “Oh my god you guys fucked?” Tobin asks. 

I smile and nod. “We did the tasks.” I look down at the sleeping blonde girl. “We worked through it. We’re all good, just leave us here for the night.” I say. 

They quietly giggle and leave the room. Leah smirks, she winks at me. I smile and give her a thumbs up. 

Leah leaves the room. I flip off the lap, I hold Kristie close to me and drift off letting sleep take over. 

[gyu-tori]

Red Poppies | H.K

VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL | FLEUR DE DESTIN

Pairing: florist!hueningkai x fem!reader Genre: Soulmate AU, Fluff, Angst

Summary: When soulmates are found in dreams, your nights remain empty—until someone with a broken bond helps you search. As dreams clear, unexpected feelings emerge. Are soulmates really just predestined, or can fate change mid-course?

1/5 of the fleur de destin event!! See the full event here.

Word count: 14.2k

In a world where the concept of soulmates isn't a theory but an inevitable reality, the moment you turn 18, your dreams begin. That's when your soulmate appears, silently, waiting in the midst of your subconscious, pulling you into the world of shared dreams. It’s supposed to be magical—like a fate you can't escape, an inevitability that everyone else experiences.

Everyone else, except for you.

Every night, you wait, but the dreams never come. No warm, comforting figure stands before you in the half-light of slumber. No shared glances in the mist. The dreams everyone else describes, full of warmth and recognition, never materialize. You lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what’s wrong with you. Your friends laugh about their experiences with their soulmates, speaking of a mysterious presence—someone they’ve never met, but already feel an unshakable connection to.

But for you? Nothing.

It’s as if you’re destined to walk through life alone. Everyone else gets a preview of their future, a glimpse of someone meant just for them, and yet you’re left with nothing but empty nights and a growing sense of isolation.

Questions begin to haunt you: Are soulmates real, or is it just a cruel trick of fate? Why do others get to experience something you can only dream of? The idea that there could be someone out there for you seems increasingly like a fantasy, an ideal too far-fetched to be believed.

Despite your doubts, there’s still a sliver of hope—something small, fragile, that perhaps one day your dream will come. But for now, it feels like it will never come true. You try to convince yourself that you’re fine without it, that the idea of a soulmate is overrated, but every empty dream reminds you otherwise.

The city is buzzing around you—crowds moving in all directions, the hum of traffic mixing with the distant murmur of conversation. You weave through the chaos, phone pressed to your ear, trying your best to pay attention to Jungwon’s frantic pleas.

“Please, please, I need you to help me with this!” Jungwon’s voice is filled with urgency, almost reaching a panicked pitch. “I’m seriously stuck. It’s for my girlfriend, you know? She loves flowers, but I can’t figure out which ones to get her. I was thinking, like, lilies or tulips? Wait, no—daisies! Or roses… or maybe something more unusual? I don’t know, man. Please, can you just check this one shop near you? It’s called Fleur de Destin. I swear they have the best flowers ever. I’ll pay you back after, I promise!! Just please, I really-”

You roll your eyes, but it’s all in good fun. Jungwon has always been like this—a bit too eager, a little too scatterbrained, but always with good intentions. You try to keep up with his rambling while your eyes scan the sidewalk for the shop.

“Wonnie, calm down!” you sigh, almost chuckling at his frantic energy. “I’m already on my way. I’ll figure it out, okay? Just give me a second.”

As you round the corner, you finally spot the sign you’re looking for: Fleur de Destin. The name alone makes you roll your eyes, almost scoffing at how ridiculous it is. Of course, it had to be soulmate-related—some flower shop with a fancy name designed to tug at the heartstrings of those obsessed with the idea of destiny.

“Right, right, thank you, thank you! You’re a lifesaver!” Jungwon’s voice rings with excitement, unaware of your thoughts. You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you push open the shop door.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m the best,” you mutter sarcastically, stepping inside the shop, your eyes scanning the colorful array of blooms on display. “So, what flowers did you want again?”

“Okay, so she likes lilies, but not the tiger kind. And tulips—oh, wait, maybe daisies would be better?” Jungwon continues, listing off flower after flower, each suggestion more irrelevant than the last.

You groan, struggling to keep track of his endless requests. “Jungwon, you’re literally saying every flower in existence,” you complain, glancing around the shop as you try to focus. “Just pick one, or I’m walking out with a cactus.”

Distracted and exasperated, you turn the corner, still holding the phone to your ear. And then, in a flash, it happens.

You bump directly into someone. A sharp jolt of surprise, followed by the sound of something crashing to the floor. You freeze, eyes widening in shock as a plethora of bright red petals tumbles from the stranger’s grasp and scatters across the floor.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you blurt out, immediately hanging up on Jungwon without thinking. You kneel down, trying to salvage what’s left of the bouquet as your heart races. “Were these for your soulmate? I totally ruined them, didn’t I?”

The boy you bumped into crouches down with surprising grace, gathering the scattered flowers with care. His expression is more amused than anything else, as he looks up at you with a hint of a smile.

“No, these weren’t for my soulmate. Don’t worry about it,” he replies, his voice warm and reassuring.

Still flustered, you hastily help him pick up the fallen blooms. “But I completely ruined them. They were so pretty. I’ll pay for them!” you insist, already digging for your wallet.

He shakes his head with a small grin. “It’s fine. I wasn’t selling these to anyone specific. I was just arranging them.”

You bite your lip, not entirely convinced. “Still,” you protest, glancing at the half-destroyed bouquet. “I feel bad. They were part of a bigger arrangement, right? I messed it up.”

He pauses, and then grins wider, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous spark. “Well… you’re not wrong. I’d have to redo the whole arrangement now to make it work. But that’s just more work for me, so…” He holds the flowers out to you, a playful gleam in his gaze. “How about you take these instead? It’d save me the trouble.”

You blink, unsure. “Wait, really? I can pay for them, you know?” You hold up your wallet, still feeling guilty.

He shrugs, unfazed. “Yeah. Think of it as a freebie. From the shop to you. Something like… I don’t know, a new customer gift. Besides, it’s not like I can put these back on display now.”

A reluctant laugh escapes you, and you accept the bouquet with a small smile, feeling a little better about the situation. “Thank you. I feel bad about taking them, but… thank you,” you say, the awkwardness slowly fading.

As you straighten up to leave, ready to escape the situation before you embarrass yourself further, he adds, almost casually, “By the way, I’m Hueningkai. I work here part-time.”

His name lingers in your mind as you step out of the shop, the bouquet of poppies tucked carefully in your arms. For a brief moment, you feel a soft warmth blooming in your chest, a flutter that you can’t quite explain. You shake your head, dismissing it. It’s probably nothing, right? Just some random guy at a flower shop.

But the way his eyes spark with that playful, easy smile… something about it lingers in your thoughts longer than you expect.

The cool air hits you as you step outside, the city noises slowly fading into the background. The bouquet of red poppies feels delicate in your hands, their bright petals a stark contrast against the grey streets around you.

You pull your phone from your pocket, the familiar vibration in your hand a reminder of the chaos you’ve temporarily escaped. It’s a text from Jungwon—naturally. You glance at the screen, and immediately, you feel a little twinge of guilt.

“Did you find the flowers? Please tell me you didn’t get a cactus.”

You stare at the message for a beat, the poppies in your hand almost mocking you with their vibrant color. You can’t help but think of the brief encounter with the boy at the flower shop, his grin still lingering in your thoughts.

You hesitate, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Should you tell him the truth? That the flowers were a gift, that you accidentally ran into the boy while trying to help him? But it feels… too complicated. After all, you can’t exactly tell Jungwon you’ve already messed up his entire shopping trip by getting sidetracked with some random guy, even if the poppies are beautiful.

So, instead, you settle on something simpler. A little white lie.

“They didn’t have any of the ones you wanted. Sorry!”

You press send before you can second-guess yourself, a tiny knot of discomfort twisting in your stomach. You know Jungwon will bombard you with questions if he suspects something’s off, but at the moment, it seems like the easiest way out.

Sure enough, his response is swift and dramatic. A string of emojis floods the screen. A skull, a broken heart, and a sad cat.

You roll your eyes, chuckling softly to yourself. Typical Jungwon. Of course, he’d react like this. It’s all part of the charm—his over-the-top reactions to every little inconvenience.

But as you walk home, the weight of the bouquet starts to feel a little heavier, the small lie weighing on you despite how harmless it seems. You glance down at the poppies again. Their vibrant red hue stands out against the dull, overcast sky, reminding you of the shop, of Hueningkai, and of the warmth in his smile that you can’t seem to shake.

The soft morning light filters through your window, bathing the room in pale gold, but it only serves to amplify the emptiness you feel. The warmth of the sunlight brushes against your skin, but it does little to chase away the chill that’s settled in your chest. You blink awake, eyes still heavy with sleep, the familiar ache of disappointment lingering like a dull, unshakable weight. Another night, another empty dream. It’s become a cruel routine—the restless hours that stretch into a blur, the fragile hopes that flicker like candlelight, only to be snuffed out when morning comes and the truth sinks in: no soulmate. Just silence. Just loneliness.

You lie motionless, staring at the ceiling, the stillness of the room a mirror to the heaviness in your heart. Each breath feels shallow, as though the air itself carries the burden of your unfulfilled longing. Your gaze traces the cracks in the plaster above, mind drifting back to last night and the quiet sorrow of yet another dreamless sleep. The hours had passed in a haze of restless tossing and turning, the emptiness pressing against your chest like an unwelcome visitor that refused to leave.

But then, like a spark igniting in the darkness, a memory surfaces—soft and vivid, cutting through the fog of your melancholy. The bouquet of poppies on your counter. 

The bright red petals stand in stark contrast to the usual dull monotony of your mornings. You sit up and glance at the flowers again, a soft warmth blooming in your chest. Kai. You can’t shake the image of him—his warm smile, the way he hadn’t hesitated to give you the poppies, even when he probably should have asked for something in return. It’s funny how someone you barely know can make you feel so... seen, in a way. There was no judgment, no expectation, just a simple act of kindness that left you with more than just the flowers.

For a brief moment, the loneliness eases, replaced by a sense of comfort. A warmth you can’t quite place, something simple yet significant.

You decide, right then and there, that you should do something for him. It’s not much, just a small gesture to show your appreciation, but it feels like the right thing to do. Maybe it won’t change the emptiness that lingers in your heart, but at least for today, it feels like you’re taking a step toward something positive.

You make your way to a nearby café, the chilly air nipping at your cheeks as you walk, your hands cradling each other for warmth. The streets are quiet this early, the faint hum of the waking city blending with the soft rustle of leaves carried by the wind. Your breath fogs in front of you, each exhale a fleeting cloud that vanishes into the crisp morning air. The weight of your thoughts clings to you like the cold, but the gentle buzz of activity from the café’s glowing windows feels like a small reprieve from the solitude.

The bell above the door jingles softly as you step inside, warmth wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the faint sweetness of pastries, and for a moment, it’s easy to forget the unease stirring in your chest. You step up to the counter, scanning the chalkboard menu even though you already know what you’ll order. Two cups of coffee—one for yourself, and one for him.

When it’s your turn, the barista greets you with a cheerful smile, her pen poised to jot down your order. You give it to her, your voice soft but steady, and she begins ringing you up. But then comes the inevitable question, casual and routine: “What name should I put on this one?” She gestures to one of the cups, waiting for your answer.

You open your mouth to reply, but the words falter, sticking in your throat. What was his name again?

The thought comes with an unexpected rush of panic. You know his name—of course, you do. You’ve said it to yourself countless times in the quiet moments in your mind. But now, with the barista watching you expectantly, the letters twist and blur in your mind. Hueningkai. That’s right, isn’t it? But how do you spell it? Is it “H-u-e” or “H-e-u”? The uncertainty churns in your stomach, and your nerves suddenly feel much too raw for something so small.

Your cheeks burn, the silence stretching uncomfortably. You need to say something. Anything. Before you can overthink it further, you quickly blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Just… Kai. K-A-I.”

The barista nods with an easy smile, scribbling the name onto the cup. Her pen glides over the paper like it’s the simplest thing in the world, and you let out a quiet, shaky breath of relief. But the faint blush warming your face refuses to fade, a mix of embarrassment and something else you can’t quite name.

You step to the side to wait for your coffee, arms crossed as you try to shake off the lingering awkwardness. It’s just a name. It doesn’t have to be this complicated. People shorten names all the time, don’t they? It’s not a big deal. But no matter how much you tell yourself this, you can’t escape the strange weight that settles in your chest.

Because it does feel like a big deal. The simple act of ordering coffee for him feels far more significant than it should. It’s not just about the name or the cup; it’s about the connection, the bridge between what’s real and what still feels so dreamlike. It matters to you—more than you’d expected—and the thought of getting it wrong, of somehow lessening the meaning of this small gesture, gnaws at the edges of your mind.

Your fingers drum lightly against the counter as you wait, the soft hum of the café filling the quiet spaces in your thoughts. Why does this feel so important? You can’t quite explain it, even to yourself, but you know the answer lies somewhere in the way his name lingers on your tongue. It’s not just a name; it’s a piece of him. And that makes it impossible for you to treat it as anything less.

Back at the flower shop, the door chimes softly as you push it open. The familiar scent of flowers greets you, but this time, it feels different. There’s a lightness to the air, a nervous anticipation you can’t shake. You glance around the shop and spot Kai behind the counter, his back turned as he carefully arranges a bouquet. As you approach, he turns, his eyes widening in recognition.

“Oh, hey. Back again? What, did you come to knock over more flowers?” he teases, his voice light and amused as he sets the bouquet down.

You laugh nervously, the memory of the previous day’s accidental collision still fresh in your mind. “No, I just… I felt bad about yesterday. You were so nice, and since you wouldn’t let me pay for the poppies, I thought coffee might make up for it.”

Kai raises an eyebrow, looking at the cup in your hand, and then his gaze flickers to the name written on it. His smile grows wider as he sees “Kai” scrawled in neat handwriting. “Kai, huh?”

Your heart skips a beat at the way he says it. Did I mess it up? You panic for a split second before quickly speaking up. “What? Did I spell it wrong?”

“No, it’s fine,” he chuckles, his tone warm and light. “My friends call me that too. I did tell you it’s Hueningkai though, remember?”

You groan, scratching the back of your neck, feeling heat rise to your face. “I didn’t forget, don’t worry. It’s just that the barista asked for the spelling, and I panicked. I wasn’t sure if it was like… H-u-e or H-e-u or…” You trail off, embarrassed at how overblown this whole situation feels now.

His laughter is genuine and easy, making the awkwardness feel lighter. “Don’t worry. You can just call me Kai. Honestly, it suits me better.”

The tension between you two fades, and the conversation turns easy, natural even, as you both sip your coffee in companionable silence. There’s a peacefulness in this small moment, a quiet connection that feels as if it’s grown out of the simplest of actions. It’s strange—how a cup of coffee, an exchange of words, could carry so much weight. You can’t explain it, but somehow, it does. There’s a comfort in being here with him, in the shared space, even if it’s only for a moment.

As you finish your coffee, you start to stand up, preparing to leave. The warmth of the coffee lingers in your hands, and you feel a small pang of reluctance at the thought of walking away. But just as you turn, Kai’s voice calls out, pulling you back like a thread being gently tugged.

“Hey! I just realized—I didn’t get your name. I should’ve asked it beforehand, huh?”

You freeze mid-step, caught off guard by the simple statement. It’s funny how something as ordinary as your name can feel so vulnerable at this moment, as if giving it away might anchor you to this fleeting encounter. Slowly, you turn back toward him, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your expression.

“Oh, uh, right,” you say, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “How could I forget? I’m Y/N.” The words come out soft, almost hesitant, but you offer him a small, shy smile to soften the awkwardness.

Kai’s lips curve into a genuine smile, one that makes his features light up in a way that feels unfairly disarming. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, his tone carrying a warmth that feels like the first hint of spring after a long winter.

You nod, ready to excuse yourself, but he continues, his voice dipping into a playful lilt. “I feel like I should make sure you don’t knock over any more flowers. How about we exchange numbers? That way, you can give me a heads-up if you’re planning to visit again.”

A surprised laugh escapes your lips, and you shake your head. “Are you going to hold that over me forever?” you ask, though the lightness in your tone betrays the quiet excitement bubbling beneath your skin.

“Absolutely,” he replies without missing a beat, the mischievous glint in his eyes sending a small flutter through your chest. “But I promise to be gentle about it.”

The faint heat rising to your cheeks betrays the calm facade you’re trying to maintain. “Alright,” you say, pulling your phone from your pocket, your fingers trembling just enough for you to notice. You carefully type in your number, hesitating for a moment before handing it to him.

As he takes the phone, his fingers brush lightly against yours. The contact is brief—barely a second—but it leaves behind a spark that lingers, warming your skin like the echo of a quiet flame. He glances at the screen, his lips curling into a satisfied smile as he saves your number.

“There,” he says, holding up his phone like it’s a trophy. “Now I can officially make sure you’re not a menace to flowers everywhere.”

You laugh again, the sound feeling freer this time. “I’ll do my best to avoid causing more disasters. Scout’s honor.”

Kai grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes your heart skip. “I’ll hold you to that, Y/N.”

With a final exchange of smiles, you both say your goodbyes. As you step out of the coffee shop and into the cool air, the world feels a little brighter, the colors a little sharper. Your mind keeps circling back to the warmth of his voice, the easy rhythm of your conversation, and the way his smile lingered just for you.

Clutching your phone in your pocket, you can’t help but wonder if this brief, serendipitous moment might grow into something far more unexpected. For the first time in a long time, the idea doesn’t feel so impossible. Instead, it feels like a quiet kind of hope.

The first text from Kai comes the next morning, a simple message: “Hope your day’s going well.”

You stare at the screen for a moment, unsure of what to say, but it feels like a door opening—a small crack that you could slip through. So, you respond: “Good so far, just the usual. How about you?”

It’s an innocent exchange, but something about it makes your heart flutter. It’s just a text. Just a casual check-in. And yet, it feels like it means more.

Over the next few days, the texts come more regularly. The casual messages soon become a natural part of your routine. Sometimes it’s a photo of the flowers you’ve come across while walking home, sometimes it’s a little observation about something funny or odd you saw in the city. Kai, always prompt in his replies, sends photos of his own—his latest photography projects, snapshots of the flowers at the shop, or just the candid moments of his day. It’s never anything particularly groundbreaking, but the simplicity of it makes you feel like you’re getting to know him more than you expected.

One afternoon, you send him a picture of a small bouquet you picked up on your way back from class. Bright yellow daffodils, with their cheerful petals standing out against the greenery. “What do you think of these?” you ask, feeling a little silly, but the thought of his opinion matters to you in a way you can’t quite explain.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes. “They’re gorgeous. Definitely a good pick. I think you’re going to love how they look in your space.” There’s a small follow-up text: “Daffodils are one of my favorites. They remind me of early spring—the way the weather feels like it’s on the edge of change, but still holding onto a bit of the winter chill.”

You smile at his words, the thoughtfulness behind them. It’s strange how quickly you’ve come to appreciate these small moments of connection. The way his comments feel personal, and the way he seems to truly think about things before responding. It makes you feel seen, even if it’s just in this small way.

After a few weeks, the texts have evolved. Sometimes it’s quick updates on your day, but other times, you find yourselves talking late into the night, the messages flowing more easily than you ever expected. He tells you about his life, about how he balances his part-time job at the flower shop with his classes. How he has big dreams of traveling the world, capturing moments with his camera, but also feels a pressure to figure out what he wants to do with his life. There’s a sense of uncertainty in his words that you can relate to, but there’s also a spark of passion when he talks about photography, as if it’s the one thing he knows he’s meant to do.

It’s strange—how quickly you’ve started looking forward to his messages. At first, you thought it was just casual. A way to pass the time. But now? Now, it feels like a connection is slowly growing between you two, one small message at a time. Sometimes, you catch yourself waiting for the sound of your phone buzzing, hoping that there’ll be another text from him waiting for you. And when it does come, there’s a warmth that spreads through you, like the glow of the sun breaking through the clouds.

The ease with which you both have fallen into this comfortable, shared space catches you off guard. Every text feels like a small piece of a larger puzzle, one that you’re slowly starting to put together without even realizing it. And somehow, it feels like something more than just casual messages between friends. There’s something there, something that you can’t quite name yet.

Every now and then, you think about the idea of soulmates. You wonder, as you read his messages or look at the photos he sends, if this could be it. Could he be the one you’ve been waiting for, even though the dream system never worked for you? Could this—this—be how soulmates are found, not through dreams or destiny, but through something as simple and beautiful as a shared moment, a small act of kindness, and a deepening connection?

For now, though, all you know is that you enjoy these small moments with him. The way the conversations flow so naturally. The way he shares pieces of his life with you. And somehow, it feels like you’re building something more real than any dream could ever promise.

It’s another late evening at your favorite café, the soft hum of chatter and clink of coffee cups filling the air as you and Kai sit together, enjoying the warmth of your drinks. There's an unusual ease between you, a connection that feels more natural with each passing day.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Kai looks up at you, a contemplative expression crossing his face. "So, have you met your soulmate yet?"

The question catches you off guard, and your stomach sinks slightly. You've been avoiding this topic for weeks now. You laugh it off at first, trying to keep the conversation light. "What? No, I haven’t. You know that. I mean, I don't even have dreams like everyone else. It’s like... nothing is happening for me."

Kai gives you a soft, understanding look, though there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. You pause, feeling the familiar sting of rejection, the disappointment that comes with never having felt the pull of a soulmate.

He hesitates, then quietly admits, "I haven’t had a soulmate dream either. Not for a long time."

You glance at him in surprise, unsure of how to respond. "What do you mean, 'not for a long time'?"

He looks away, as if lost in thought. "I had one. A long time ago. But..." His voice falters, and he takes a deep breath before continuing, "... my soulmate rejected me. They cut the bond before it could even really start."

The words hang in the air, and you feel the weight of them. You can't imagine what that kind of rejection must feel like—being told that your connection, your future, isn't real. But the look in Kai’s eyes tells you that it’s been the hardest thing he’s ever experienced.

"I tried to move on," Kai adds, his voice soft. "But it's hard, you know? When you’ve been told that you only get one soulmate... and then it all falls apart."

The sadness in his tone is unmistakable, and you feel a pang of sympathy for him, even though you're struggling with your own emptiness. The idea that everyone only gets one soulmate feels like a cruel joke, especially when it’s all tied to something as fragile as a dream. You’ve never had a soulmate dream, and now you’re hearing that Kai had one—and it was ripped away from him before it could even begin.

You want to comfort him, but the weight of the situation leaves you at a loss for words. Kai continues to gaze into his cup, almost as if the pain is too much to look at directly.

After a long silence, he looks up, meeting your eyes with a quiet resolve. "But I’m not going to let that stop me from helping you."

You blink, taken aback. "What do you mean?"

Kai leans back in his chair, his voice steady. "I know what it’s like to feel like you’re never going to meet the one. But that doesn’t mean I won’t help you find yours. Even if I’ve lost mine, I’ll help you. I won’t let you feel alone in this."

His words are both comforting and heartbreaking. You hadn’t expected him to offer—especially given everything he’s been through. The weight of his rejection, the hollow feeling he must carry every day, and still, he’s offering his help without hesitation. There’s something selfless in his offer, and you find it hard to process.

You swallow hard, a mix of gratitude and sadness pooling in your chest. "Kai, I—"

He gives you a soft smile, though it’s tinged with sorrow. "You don’t have to say anything. I know it’s not the same, but maybe we can help each other figure it out. I’ll be here, even if it’s just for the company. And I’ll help you search for your soulmate—just… don’t give up on them yet."

His words make your heart ache, and for a moment, you feel a tiny crack form in the wall around your own feelings. You had been carrying this burden of emptiness on your own, not sharing it with anyone, and now, Kai is here, offering to help in the only way he knows how. And yet, there’s a part of you that feels pained at the realization that he’s had to carry this pain of rejection alone for so long. You hadn’t expected to feel this way, but it hurts knowing that even though he’s willing to help you, he’s still carrying the pieces of his broken soulmate bond with him.

"I… I don't want you to feel like you have to help me," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want you to go through this alone just because I need someone."

Kai shakes his head, his eyes soft but firm. "No. I want to help you. It’s not about pity or anything. It’s just... if I can help you find something real, then maybe it’ll make this whole thing worth it for someone else, even if it’s not me."

A lump forms in your throat, and for a moment, all you can do is nod. The emotions swirling in your chest are too complex to untangle, but you appreciate his honesty, his vulnerability. Yet despite the sadness that’s colored this conversation, something inside you shifts—Kai is no longer just the boy who gave you bumped into that one day; he’s someone who truly understands the weight of lost dreams, and somehow, you’re both going to find a way through it together.

But as he speaks, you can’t shake the quiet disappointment that lingers in your heart. You finally had hopes of your soulmate, you thought it was him, but turns out he already had a soulmate, well used to. But still, you can’t help but feel grateful for the person sitting across from you, even if the path ahead is uncertain, you had a friend like him.

As the days pass, your connection with Kai deepens, although you don’t let it get further than just a friend helping you out. The conversations you once had over coffee now spill over into late-night text exchanges and phone calls. The weight of your shared quest to understand soulmates—those late ones, the lost ones, the ones like you—becomes a bond neither of you had anticipated.

It starts off small. You exchange articles, links to forums, obscure old myths about soulmates passed down through generations. But each discovery, no matter how trivial it seems, feels like a small victory. And every time Kai texts you something new he’s found, it brings a new kind of excitement, something you haven’t felt in a long time. The loneliness doesn’t sting quite as much when you're searching together, looking for answers that might finally bring you peace.

The first night you sit together in his room, your laptops open, books scattered around you, it feels like a shared mission. You're not just searching for your soulmate anymore. You’re searching for a truth that feels just out of reach.

Kai, always the meticulous one, has already printed out several research papers he found about soulmate bonds, especially ones about the late bloomers—people who don’t dream of their soulmate until later in life, or whose connections are severed before they can even begin to bloom. His handwriting fills a small notebook, filled with observations, notes, and even speculative ideas about how soulmates could be tied to something more than just a dream.

"This one," Kai says one night, his finger tracing an old myth from a dusty book he’d borrowed from the local library, "talks about how some soulmates might be waiting for the other to be ready. Like, maybe the dream doesn't happen until both people are emotionally prepared to face each other. That could be why you haven’t had a soulmate dream yet—maybe you’re just not ready, or the dream hasn’t arrived because you haven’t faced whatever you need to face yet."

You take a long look at the page, absorbing the idea. It makes sense, in a way. Could there be some truth to it? Have you been avoiding something in your life that could make your dream of a soulmate real? "What do you think?" you ask, curious about his thoughts.

Kai leans back, his eyes a little distant. “I don’t know. But it’s possible. It’s just like when people say you can't truly love someone else until you love yourself, right? Maybe it’s the same with soulmates. The universe is waiting for you to be whole first.”

You nod, the words resonating in a way you didn’t expect. There’s a truth to what he’s saying. It’s not just about meeting someone; maybe it’s about becoming someone capable of accepting that connection. The weight of that realization lingers, but it also offers a flicker of hope. Could your soulmate be out there, waiting for you to understand something about yourself before you meet?

Another night, as you scroll through a thread on a forum discussing soulmate connections, you stumble upon an older comment—one that catches your attention. It talks about how some soulmate connections aren’t about finding your other half, but about finding someone who compliments your journey, someone who helps you grow. You read the words to Kai out loud, and he nods thoughtfully.

“That’s an interesting perspective,” he muses, tapping his pen on the desk. “What if soulmates aren’t a perfect match but rather the catalyst to make you a better version of yourself? It’s kind of like... what I was talking about with ‘readiness.’ Maybe soulmates are there to teach us something.”

Your heart flutters at the thought of it. Could your soulmate be someone you wouldn’t expect? Someone who helps you grow, someone who’s meant to challenge you? The idea makes your stomach turn in an odd mix of excitement and nervousness. What if your soulmate was someone completely different from what you imagined?

Kai’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “Maybe you haven’t had your dream because there’s something you still need to learn before you can be ready for it. But I’ll help you figure it out.”

His words settle over you like a gentle, steady reassurance. It’s not just the research or the theories that make you feel comforted, but the quiet sincerity behind them. Kai has been hurt by his own soulmate’s rejection, but instead of shutting down, he’s chosen to help you find yours. His belief in your chance at a soulmate, despite everything he’s been through, is something you can’t quite comprehend yet, but you feel the weight of it—how deeply he cares.

You don’t know what you’ve done to deserve such a loyal friend, but you’re grateful for it. The more time you spend together, the more you realize how much Kai’s presence has become a comfort in your life. He’s not just a source of information anymore; he’s a friend, someone who understands your struggles, someone who’s willing to go through this journey with you, no matter how long it takes.

But there’s something else, too—something that’s starting to grow between you, a feeling that’s hard to name. As you share theories, exchange ideas, and laugh over shared frustrations, the bond between you and Kai shifts. It’s no longer just about finding your soulmate. It’s about finding your way through this confusing, lonely world, together.

Sometimes, when your eyes meet across the table, you catch something unspoken in his gaze. It’s not the same as before. It’s softer, warmer, and when he smiles at you, it feels like something more than just a friend’s smile. But every time you notice it, you push it aside, telling yourself that you’re just imagining things.

After all, Kai is helping you find your soulmate—not being one for you.

And yet, with every passing night spent researching and learning together, the lines between friendship and something deeper begin to blur. The more you lean on each other, the harder it becomes to separate what you need from what you want. And neither of you knows yet where this journey will take you.

But you’re no longer alone in it.

After weeks of late-night research and deep conversations about soulmates, today is a quiet, uneventful afternoon at the flower shop. Kai has just finished his shift, and you’ve come from your classes, the calm of the day settling in between the two of you. The shop is warm, sunlight pouring through the windows, casting soft patterns on the floor. You’re both sitting with iced drinks in hand, scrolling through your phones. But there’s an underlying tension in the air that you can’t ignore.

Kai is distant today. He’s usually more present—playful, engaging, or cracking jokes to fill the silences. But not today. Today, he’s just sitting there, staring down at the floor, a furrow in his brow. It’s subtle, but you notice.

“Hey,” you say gently, trying to break the silence. “You okay?”

Kai blinks and looks up, his gaze sharp as if he’s just snapped out of a trance. He offers a small, distracted smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, just... thinking about something. It’s nothing.”

You don’t buy it. Not for a second. Over the past few weeks, you’ve become familiar with the way his moods shift, and this isn’t the usual easygoing Kai you know. Something’s bothering him.

“You sure?” You try again. “You seem... off.”

He chuckles softly, a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just... I ran into someone yesterday.”

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Someone? Who?”

Kai’s gaze flickers to the flowers scattered around the shop, avoiding your eyes. “My ex... the one who rejected me.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. You’ve heard pieces of his past, but hearing it like this, raw and unfiltered, makes something twist in your chest. You can see it now—the tension in his shoulders, the subtle tightness in his jaw. There’s a lingering sadness in the way he says it, like a ghost he’s still carrying around.

“Wait, you saw her?” you ask, your voice quiet.

Kai nods, looking almost reluctant to share. “Yeah. It was a surprise. We bumped into each other on the street. Honestly, I thought I’d feel... something. But, weirdly, I felt nothing.”

“Nothing?” you echo, surprised. “Like... no anger? No pain?”

He shakes his head slowly, his expression distant. “Just... indifference. I thought I’d feel something after everything that happened. But when I saw her, I realized I don’t care anymore. I didn’t feel anger or resentment. I didn’t feel relief, either. I just felt... nothing. I guess I was hoping for some sort of closure, but instead, I just... walked away.”

You pause, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. The silence stretches, both of you caught in your thoughts, as you try to process what he’s just shared.

“It’s good that you felt indifferent,” you finally say, your voice gentle. “Maybe that means you’re starting to move on. Like... truly move on.”

Kai looks over at you, his eyes softening as he meets your gaze. He gives you a small smile, but it’s bittersweet. “Yeah... maybe. But it’s weird, you know? After everything we went through, I thought I’d have some kind of reaction. Some feeling that would tell me I was over it. But in the end... I didn’t feel anything at all.”

You think for a moment, then offer him a reassuring smile. “Maybe that’s a good thing. It means you’re free.”

Kai lets out a quiet, almost resigned laugh, but there’s still a shadow in his eyes. “Maybe. But sometimes I wonder... if I’m just... afraid of feeling anything again, you know? Maybe that’s why I can’t let myself care.”

His words hang in the air, and you don’t know what to say. You’re not sure how to fix the uncertainty in his voice, or the way he’s still so hesitant to let himself feel something, even though he’s ready to let go of the past.

You don’t have an immediate answer for him. Instead, you just sit there with him in the quiet of the shop, the weight of his vulnerability hanging between you. The afternoon light spills through the windows, casting long shadows as the two of you are left alone with your thoughts.

After a long moment, you finally speak. “If you ever want to talk about it more, you know I’m here, right?”

Kai looks at you, his gaze soft, and his smile deepens slightly. “I know. Thanks.”

It’s not the kind of conversation that has any clear resolution, but in this moment, the simple act of being there for each other feels like the most important thing. You’re not sure if Kai is ready to face his fears about opening his heart again, but you’re certain that, for now, you’re there with him, sharing this space and understanding him in a way that words can’t fully capture.

The afternoon slips into evening, and the two of you fall into an easy, comfortable silence. There’s no pressure, no need for more explanations. You’re just there, two people who have seen each other’s scars and are slowly learning how to heal them together.

It’s a fragile, quiet comfort. But it’s enough. For now.

For years, your dreams remained empty, cold, and silent. But then, one night, things began to shift. It started with a faint shadow, a shape in the distance that was too unclear to recognize—just a faint outline, barely visible. The figure was blurry, indistinct, but even so, your heart skipped a beat. You couldn't help but wonder: was this finally your soulmate? Could the long wait for a connection in your dreams be coming to an end?

Night after night, the figure grows clearer, the edges sharpening with each passing dream. Though you still can’t make out their face, their form is more defined now, their presence more tangible. You feel a pull in your chest, an unexplainable warmth when the figure appears. Hope swells inside you—the soulmate you’ve longed for, the one you were meant to meet, is finally reaching out. The excitement is overwhelming. You just need to see their face. But even with the lingering blur, you’re convinced: this is them, the one you’ve been waiting for all these years.

Yet, as your connection with this blurry figure deepens with each dream, you can’t help but think of Kai. Of the long conversations, of the shared moments, of the way you’ve both supported each other in your confusion and pain. For so long, he’s been a constant, a friend who has listened to your hopes and fears. And now, as you inch closer to meeting the person who will complete you, you wonder—what does this mean for you and Kai? Will your friendship end when your goal is reached?

For Kai, though, things are different. His dreams are also filled with a figure—a blurry, indistinct shape that grows clearer the more he sleeps. But unlike you, Kai isn’t filled with excitement. Instead, he feels dread. Every night, he’s haunted by this figure, and with every new dream, he’s more convinced that it’s not someone new—it's his ex-soulmate. The one who rejected him all those years ago.

The figure hasn’t solidified yet, still too blurry for him to fully recognize, but Kai knows. He knows that it’s her—the person who severed their bond before it could ever even begin. He hasn’t seen her in years, but every time the figure appears in his dreams, his stomach sinks. The more he tries to push it away, the more certain he becomes. This isn’t a new person; this is someone from his past, someone who broke his heart and left him questioning everything about soulmates.

The dread claws at him each night as he sees that blurry figure taking form, inching closer to clarity. He doesn’t want it to be her. He doesn’t want to face the possibility that she might want to reconnect, might want to try again. The rejection he endured still stings, and he can’t imagine having to go through that pain again. Even if the figure is still vague, the fear that it’s her makes him hesitate to believe it could be anything else. Yet, why does a part of him long for it to be someone else, even when it would be impossible.

You can’t contain your excitement when you sit down with Kai at the café, eager to share the latest developments in your dreams. The figure is growing clearer, and every night, you feel a stronger pull toward them. You tell Kai about how you can sense the figure reaching out to you, and how the bond feels so much more real with each passing night. The hope of finally meeting your soulmate feels so close, you can almost touch it.

Kai listens quietly, but the smile on his face is faint, his eyes shadowed with a flicker of something deeper. His heart sinks as you speak, a quiet ache growing in his chest. The weight of your words settles heavily on him. You’re so sure that the blurry figure in your dreams is your soulmate, but Kai can’t help but think about the blurry figure in his own dreams. 

As you talk about your dreams, about the connection growing stronger, Kai’s mind drifts. He’s been trying so hard to ignore the feelings that have been growing inside him. The feelings he’s been hiding for so long, the feelings that have only deepened as the two of you have spent more time together.

He’s falling for you. He knows it, feels it with every passing day, but the truth is too complicated, too painful. He watches as you get excited about your soulmate, your connection, and it feels like a cruel reminder of everything he can never have. The dream of soulmates that was once his, now shattered and replaced by an unspoken truth he can’t share.

Kai doesn’t want to feel this way. He doesn’t want to feel this weight on his chest, this tightness in his throat every time you talk about your soulmate, because he knows it’s too late. You’re on your way to meeting yours, and even if he wanted to tell you the truth—that he’s falling in love with you—he’s terrified. Terrified that you won’t feel the same way, terrified that it’s too late for him.

He’s watching you become closer to someone else, and the thought of losing you—of never having a chance with you—is unbearable. So, he suppresses it. He smiles, laughs, listens, all the while pretending that everything is fine, all the while fighting the intense emotions brewing inside him.

Despite the turmoil in his heart, Kai continues to help you. He listens patiently as you share the details of your dreams, offering his insights and advice on how to interpret the signs and clues. He tells you to pay attention to the smallest details, to look for anything that might confirm the identity of the figure, even as he feels the ache of not being able to reveal his own feelings.

Each time you tell him about how much clearer the figure has become, how the bond feels more tangible, the tension in Kai’s chest grows. He smiles and offers encouraging words, but the smile never quite reaches his eyes. The strain is evident in his voice, in the way he holds himself back from saying too much.

He’s doing everything he can to be there for you, to help you find your soulmate. But inside, he’s battling a storm of emotions. Every word of encouragement, every smile, feels like a slow burn, like he’s suffocating under the weight of his own unspoken love for you. The more you grow excited about your soulmate, the more the distance between you and Kai feels like an insurmountable divide.

The tension between you both grows, even if you don’t see it. Each moment spent with him feels like a precious gift to Kai, but also like a constant reminder of everything he can’t have. His love for you remains unspoken, locked away in the silence between your words, and he wonders how much longer he can keep it buried inside before it all comes spilling out.

The space between you and Kai continues to grow, though neither of you acknowledges it outright. There’s something undeniably charged between you two, something that lingers in every shared glance and every small moment. His presence in your life is a constant, and you’ve grown used to the comfort and warmth that comes with his quiet support. Yet, no matter how much you feel the connection between you, you still find yourself pushing it away.

You remind yourself that the soulmate you’ve been waiting for is out there, still a blurry figure in your dreams, and that’s the one you’re meant to be with. Despite the warmth you feel when Kai is around, the tenderness in his eyes, the way he listens to you like no one else does, you refuse to acknowledge it. You tell yourself that it’s too soon, that this bond with Kai doesn’t mean anything.

Each time you laugh and share another bit of good news about your dreams, you can feel his gaze lingering on you longer than it should, a quiet sadness that you don’t see, but that he can’t hide. You’re becoming more and more absorbed in the hope of meeting your soulmate, the one who’s supposed to be out there waiting for you, the one who will complete the dream you’ve been chasing for so long.

Kai, on the other hand, watches as the gap between you grows. It’s not that you’ve changed, not really. But he can see the way you’ve become more distant. The more excited you get about the dreams, the more you pull away from him, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself that your soulmate isn’t someone you already know. It eats away at him, but he doesn’t know how to stop it. He’s terrified that if he tells you how he feels, he’ll only push you further away. But watching you hold on to the idea of someone else, someone who’s not him, is slowly breaking him.

One evening, after a long day, you and Kai take a quiet walk together. The air is cool, the sound of your footsteps is all that can be heard as the silence between you both grows more palpable. You’re talking about your dreams, your soulmate, and how convinced you are that they’re finally starting to reach you. The figure is becoming clearer, your connection growing stronger.

“I can’t wait to finally meet them,” you say, your smile hopeful, your eyes filled with anticipation.

Kai forces a smile, nodding along as if he’s truly happy for you, but his heart feels like it’s sinking. He swallows the lump in his throat, the ache that has been building inside him for weeks. “Yeah,” he replies softly, his voice carrying a faint edge of pain that he quickly tries to mask. “They’re out there.”

But even as he says it, there’s a part of him that wants to scream that he’s right here. That he’s the one who’s been by your side, supporting you through all of this. But he doesn’t. He can’t. He watches as you remain wrapped in the belief that your soulmate is someone who will appear in your dreams, and he wonders if you’ll ever look at him in that way.

The walk ends in silence, a thick, invisible wall between you that neither of you is willing to acknowledge. You part ways, still believing in the dream of your soulmate, unaware of how much Kai has already given you—how much he’s already given up in silence.

For Kai, each step away from you feels like a piece of him breaking off, but he swallows it down. He’s learned to live in the space of almost, to pretend that everything is fine, even when his heart aches with every passing second. But the truth is, he knows deep down that no matter how hard he tries to be just your friend, the feelings he has for you have grown too strong to ignore. He just doesn’t know if you’ll ever see him the way he sees you, nor should you, not when you’re destined to be with someone else already.

The night wraps around Kai like a heavy blanket as he sits on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, staring at your message. His thumb brushes idly against the screen, scrolling up to reread your words, as if the emotions woven into them might shift into something easier to bear if he looks just one more time.

You had sent it with so much enthusiasm, your excitement spilling over like the first rays of dawn breaking through the darkest night. You’d written about the dream—how vivid it was, how the figure was no longer a blur but beginning to take shape. You’d described every detail with a breathless kind of joy: the way the figure moved, how they reached out to you, how close you felt to finally understanding who they were. It was like reading a story painted in colors so bright they almost hurt his eyes, each word shining with hope and possibility.

Kai could see your happiness so clearly in every word, and it twisted something deep inside him. The tightness in his chest grew unbearable as he pictured you sitting there, eyes lit up, fingers typing quickly, pouring out your heart to him. It was the kind of joy he wanted to see on your face every day, the kind of excitement he longed to be the cause of—but instead, it was for someone else. Someone faceless. Someone who wasn’t him.

His hand tightened around his phone as he reread your description of the dream, the way you’d said the figure was finally coming into focus, how it felt like you were standing on the edge of a life-changing revelation. Kai could practically hear your voice in his mind, brimming with anticipation, and it only made the ache in his chest worse.

His fingers hover over the keyboard, trembling slightly, and before he knows it, he’s typing. I wish it were me. I wish I was the one you saw in your dreams. The words spill out in a rush, raw and unfiltered, as though his heart had taken over, desperate to finally be heard.

For a moment, he stares at the screen, his heart pounding. The confession feels so fragile, so vulnerable, and yet it burns with the truth he’s been carrying for far too long. The glowing words seem to taunt him, daring him to hit send, to step into the unknown and finally bare his soul.

But then reality crashes down on him like a wave, cold and unforgiving. His breathing slows as doubt creeps in, wrapping around him like chains. His thumb hovers over the “send” button, frozen. What if this changes everything? What if you don’t feel the same? What if he loses you entirely?

The risk feels too great, the fear too overwhelming. With a shaking breath, he presses backspace, watching the words disappear one by one, like erasing a part of himself. The blank text box stares back at him, mocking him with its emptiness.

Kai types something safer, something distant, something that won’t betray the storm raging inside him. "That sounds amazing. I’m really happy for you," he writes. The words feel hollow, lifeless, like a shadow of what he truly wants to say. But that's all he can manage.

He hits send before he can overthink it, the message vanishing into the ether like a whisper swallowed by the wind. As soon as it’s gone, a crushing weight settles on his chest. The ache doesn’t lessen; it deepens, sinking into him like a stone dropped into the depths of a still lake.

He imagines you reading his response, your excitement still glowing, your mind racing with thoughts of your soulmate and the dream that brought them closer to you. He imagines your smile, your heart fluttering with hope, and it feels like a knife twisting in his chest.

Kai closes his eyes, letting his head fall into his hands. The silence of his room is deafening, broken only by the sound of his own uneven breathing. He tells himself he’s happy for you—he repeats it over and over in his mind, like a mantra, as if saying it enough times might make it true. But deep down, he knows he’s lying.

He doesn’t just want to be part of your dreams; he wants to be the dream. The person you wake up thinking about. The one you’re so excited to meet. The one who makes your heart race and your words spill out in breathless joy. But instead, he’s the one sitting in the shadows, watching you chase a future that doesn’t include him.

A few days later, you meet Kai for coffee at your favorite spot, a cozy little café tucked away from the bustling streets. The familiar hum of conversation blends with the soft clinking of cups and the faint aroma of roasted beans in the air. It’s one of those rare, fleeting moments when life feels suspended in a delicate balance, and the two of you can simply exist—no burdens, no expectations, just two people sharing a moment of peace.

The conversation starts light, with playful jabs about the unseasonably warm weather and anecdotes from your day that make him chuckle. There’s an ease between you that feels natural, like slipping into a favorite sweater. But as the minutes tick by and your drinks grow lukewarm, the conversation takes a turn, shifting into deeper waters as it often does when you’re with him.

"So," Kai begins, a teasing lilt in his voice as he stirs his coffee. "How’s it going? The soulmate dreams?" His tone is light, almost casual, but the slight hesitation in his question hints at something more—something unspoken.

You sit up a little straighter, your eyes bright with excitement as you lean forward. "It’s getting clearer every night," you say, your words spilling out in a rush. "I can almost see them, Kai. It’s like I’m standing right there, just one step away. I know I’m going to meet them soon."

Kai listens intently, his hand stilling on his cup as he watches you. There’s a quiet intensity in his gaze, but it’s layered with something you can’t quite catch—an emotion buried deep beneath the surface. He offers you a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. "You really think they’re out there, huh?" he asks, his voice lilting with mock curiosity, but the weight behind his words betrays him.

You nod eagerly, completely missing the subtle crack in his façade. "I know they are," you say with conviction, your hands curling around your cup. "I’ve been waiting for this my whole life, Kai. I can feel it. They’re out there, and they’re waiting for me too."

His smile falters, just for a moment, before he schools his expression into something softer, something easier to wear. "I guess we all have to believe in something," he murmurs, his voice so quiet it nearly gets lost in the background noise. But his words hold a heaviness that lingers, an ache he tries to suppress.

You’re too caught up in your own thoughts to notice the way his shoulders slump ever so slightly, or the way his fingers tighten around his cup like he’s holding himself together. You keep talking, sharing every detail of your dreams—the colors, the sounds, the way your soulmate’s presence feels so real, so close. And all the while, Kai sits there, nodding along, his chest tightening with every word.

For you, this is hope—an unwavering belief that everything you’ve dreamed of is just around the corner. But for Kai, it’s something else entirely. It’s a quiet kind of agony, the kind that sits heavy in your chest and makes it hard to breathe. He’s been your confidant, your anchor, the one you turn to when the world feels too big. But as he listens to you speak of your soulmate with such reverence, a cruel truth seeps into his heart: you’ve never looked at him the way you look at the person in your dreams.

He forces another smile, his lips trembling for just a fraction of a second. "I’m happy for you," he says softly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. He means it—he really does—but the words feel like glass on his tongue.

You don’t notice the way his gaze lingers on you, or the way his hands tremble slightly as he sets his cup down. You don’t see the way his heart breaks, piece by piece, with every word you speak. All you see is the future you’ve dreamed of, the life you’re so certain is waiting for you.

And Kai—sweet, selfless Kai—sits there in silence, letting you pour your heart out even as his own shatters. A part of him wants to tell you the truth, to lay everything bare and risk it all. But another part—the part that loves you too much to take that chance—keeps him rooted in place. So he listens, he smiles, he nods, and he pretends. Because that’s all he can do now—be your friend, your confidant, the one who cheers you on even as he quietly mourns the future he knows he’ll never have with you.

A week later, the air feels heavy between you and Kai as you walk through the park, side by side, your shoes crunching softly on the path beneath. It’s a serene evening—the kind that makes everything feel just a little more alive, just a little more beautiful. The sky is a warm gradient of orange and pink, the sun dipping below the horizon. The kind of moment you would want to savor, if only everything didn’t feel so complicated.

Kai is listening as you talk about your usual topic the past few days, your soulmate—about the blurry figure in your dreams, how each night it becomes clearer. You’re excited, almost desperate to share this feeling with him. The possibility of finally meeting the person you’ve been waiting for, the one who might complete you.

But as you speak, you notice something. Kai is looking at you differently. His usual smile is soft, but there’s something deeper in his eyes, a mix of emotions you can’t quite understand but it’s something that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s a heaviness in the way he watches you, a silent understanding between you that only heightens the tension in the air.

The conversation slows, the words between you becoming fewer as the quiet settles in. You’re aware of the space between you—close, but not quite touching. It feels like everything is building to something, but neither of you knows exactly what. Your heartbeat quickens, and for the first time, you realize just how close you’ve become to him, how much his presence affects you.

Suddenly, you stop walking, turning to face him. The moment hangs between you, and you feel the pull—something between you that’s been there all along, something that’s become undeniable. Kai stands still, his gaze searching yours, as if asking for something you’re not sure you can give.

Then, before you can think, you see it: the way he leans in just slightly, the way the world feels like it’s slowing down around you. The distance between you shrinks, and you feel an electric current spark in the air. His breath is warm against your skin, his presence so overwhelming that your heart seems to stop beating for a moment.

Everything inside you screams to kiss him—to bridge the gap between you and the unspoken words you both keep holding back. But your thoughts of your soulmate—of the person who’s supposed to be in your dreams—rush in, and before you can even make a choice, you pull back.

“Wait,” you murmur, your voice shaky, caught in the whirlwind of your own emotions. “This is wrong, Kai. I... I can’t do this.”

Kai freezes. For a second, the world feels like it’s fallen silent, but instead of letting the awkwardness linger, he smiles quickly, a little too brightly, as though trying to mask what just happened.

"Sorry, I thought you had an eyelash on your cheek," he says, his voice light, almost too casual. "I was just trying to get it."

He raises his hand and brushes your cheek gently with his fingers, an act so tender it almost feels like a confession. His touch lingers for a moment before he pulls away, his smirk now a little forced.

“I don’t know if I got it. I couldn’t really see it properly,” he adds with a chuckle, as if nothing significant just happened. “Oh, sorry, guess I just got a little too close.”

You laugh nervously, your heart still racing, trying to mask the confusion inside. "Right," you say, your voice weak. "That was... close."

Kai steps back, his eyes still lingering on you for a fraction of a second, but the moment is already slipping away, the unspoken words hanging in the air, unresolved. The quiet that follows feels different now, heavier, like you’re both pretending it didn’t happen.

The rest of the walk feels like a slow unraveling. You continue to talk, but the easy silence is gone, replaced by an uncomfortable tension. The words are there, but they don’t feel like they’re reaching each other the same way. It’s as though the space between you has grown even wider.

Later, when you lie in bed, you replay the moment over and over in your mind. You keep thinking about how close you were, the way his fingers had brushed your cheek. You wonder if it had been a mistake to stop. Was it too soon? Was it wrong to pull away?

You convince yourself that you did the right thing. It’s not fair to Kai. It’s not fair to the soulmate you’re waiting for. But deep down, there’s a nagging doubt, a voice that wonders if you’ve been fooling yourself all along. Was it really the wrong time? Or did you just push him away because you were afraid of what it meant?

On the other side of the situation, Kai is tangled in his own thoughts. His fists are clenched at his sides as he stares at the ceiling, his mind racing. He replays the moment in his head too—the way his heart had pounded when you stopped him, how close you had been, how he thought, for just a second, that you might feel it too.

But you pulled away. And in that moment, he felt the weight of it all—the distance between you, the reality that no matter how close you got, you’d always be waiting for someone else.

“I should’ve known it was too good to be true,” he thinks bitterly. “You have someone else. Someone waiting for you. And I’m just here… stuck in this endless loop, a broken bond yet hoping that maybe you could mend it back with yours.”

He sighs, closing his eyes, willing the ache in his chest to fade. “I can’t make her feel something she doesn’t. She deserves someone who’s meant for her. Someone who was fated to her.”

And with that thought, Kai drifts into a restless sleep, knowing the truth but still clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

The dream begins, as it always does: blurry, disorienting, filled with an overwhelming sense of longing that you can never quite explain. It’s the same every night—shapes and shadows, a silhouette that never seems to come into focus, no matter how hard you try to make it clear. It teases you, whispers to you of something important, something that feels like destiny—but you can never quite grasp it.

Tonight, though, something is different.

The figure in front of you seems to ripple, the darkness around it seeming to waver, like the world itself is holding its breath. Your pulse quickens as the shadow begins to shift, stretching into something more defined, as if the universe is finally granting you the clarity you've been waiting for.

You reach out instinctively, as though you could pull the figure into sharper focus, draw the mystery out of the murky fog surrounding it. Your heart pounds in your chest, the anticipation rising to a fever pitch. The details begin to sharpen, the edges of the form gradually becoming clearer with each passing moment. A figure, tall and broad-shouldered, standing just out of reach. You can almost make out the curve of their jaw, the shape of their lips.

But still, it’s not enough.

And then—just when you think you might burst from the pressure of waiting—the veil is lifted. The figure finally comes into full view, and you gasp.

It’s not a stranger. Not the faceless being you’ve been waiting for all this time.

It’s him.

Kai.

His features are unmistakable now. The curve of his smile, the sharpness of his eyes, the way he stands with that quiet confidence you’ve come to know so well. Your breath hitches, and for a moment, it feels like the ground beneath you has vanished. All the tension, all the confusion you've carried with you all this time, falls away as realization crashes into you like a tidal wave.

This isn’t just a dream. This is the truth, the answer to every question you've had for so long. The person you’ve been yearning for, the soulmate you've been waiting to meet—is Kai. He always has been.

And just as this revelation settles deep within you, a strange, familiar pull tugs at your chest. The world around you begins to dissolve, and you feel yourself being torn away from this clarity, back into the murkiness of sleep.

Across the expanse of sleep, Kai stirs in his own dream. For weeks, he’s been seeing a shadowy figure, indistinct, almost impossible to grasp, lingering just out of reach. In the beginning, he assumed it was his ex-soulmate, the one who had rejected him so painfully. That figure—still shrouded in mystery—haunted him every night, dredging up emotions he’d long buried.

But tonight… tonight, everything changes.

The figure in his dream shifts, becoming clearer in a way he’s never seen before. The edges grow sharper, the outline of the person coming into focus with each passing second. His breath hitches in his sleep as he tries to make sense of it. He reaches for the figure, just as he’s done so many times before, desperate for clarity.

And then, the figure’s face is unmistakable.

It’s you.

He sits up suddenly, heart hammering in his chest. The dream isn’t just a flash of the past anymore—it’s you. It always has been. The face he’s been searching for, the one that’s been haunting him in the shadows, was you. Not his ex. Not a distant memory.

The realization is so sudden, so sharp, it almost feels like a physical blow. The dream slips away, leaving him awake and breathless in his bed. His heart races, thumping painfully as he processes what he’s just learned. The figure he’s been seeing—he’d thought it was someone else, but it was you all along. The connection, the bond, the love he thought had been lost to him—it’s been with you from the beginning. He doesn’t know how but he isn’t complaining. For once it felt like the universe was listening to him.

You wake, your pulse still erratic, your mind tangled in the remnants of your dream. You stare at the ceiling, still reeling from the shock of seeing Kai in the dream so clearly. How did you not know? How did you miss it before?

And then, like a jolt of electricity, the buzzing of your phone breaks through the haze of your thoughts. You glance at the screen, seeing Kai’s name flash across it, and for a moment, you hesitate. Could he have…?

You pick up the phone, your voice trembling. “Hello?”

There’s a pause, heavy with the unspoken. You can feel the rawness in his voice before he even speaks. “I—” He swallows, the words difficult to form, you could hear him panting as if he just ran miles. “I need to see you. Can you open your door?”

Your heart skips. You already know. You both woke up with the same realization, and the gravity of it weighs down on you, pulling at your chest.

“I’ll be right there,” you manage to say, barely able to steady your breath.

You rush to the door, your pulse quickening as you open it before he even knocks. There he is, standing in the hallway, his form framed by the dim light from the corridor. His eyes meet yours, filled with a blend of vulnerability and uncertainty, and you feel the weight of everything unspoken between you. Without a word, he steps inside, the door softly closing behind him.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The silence between you is thick, a heavy fog of unspoken words and emotions. You can’t seem to catch your breath. Your mind is still spinning with everything you've just realized, and you feel his presence in a way you never have before.

Finally, Kai breaks the silence, his voice quiet but urgent. “I don’t know what this means for us,” he admits. “But I know that… I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose you.”

His words shake you, and you feel a lump form in your throat. You’ve been holding your emotions in check for so long, and now, standing here in the reality of what you’ve just learned, it feels like it’s all crashing down on you.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you reply, your voice shaking. But then the doubt creeps in, and you can’t stop yourself from asking, “But… Kai, what if this isn’t just some dream? What if we’re just convincing ourselves it’s real?”

Kai steps closer, his gaze steady, unwavering. “We don’t need to convince ourselves, do we?” His voice is low, sincere. “What we have is real. It might not be the perfect soulmate connection we always imagined, but it’s ours. We’ve built something here. Haven’t we?”

The truth hits you like a wave. He’s right. Everything you’ve shared, everything you’ve felt—it’s not just fantasy. It’s real. And it has been all along. The bond between you is undeniable, even if it doesn’t fit the mold of what you thought soulmates should be.

“I guess… we don’t have to figure this out right now, do we?” you say, taking a step closer to him. “We can just… let it be.”

Kai’s smile is small, bittersweet, and filled with so much unsaid emotion. “Yeah. We can just let it be.”

And in that moment, you both understand. The connection between you, the pull you’ve both felt—it doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be real.

Kai reaches out, his hand tentative but sure. You don’t pull away. Instead, you let him take your hand, fingers weaving together in a silent promise. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, sending warmth racing through you, and you look up at him, the question hanging in the air between you.

Do you want this?

The answer is clear as you lean in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that is gentle, soft, as if you’re both tasting the truth for the first time. The kiss deepens, fueled by everything you’ve been holding back, the emotions you’ve been too afraid to voice. His arms pull you closer, and you lose yourself in the moment, in the warmth, in the certainty that, finally, everything has fallen into place.

When the kiss finally breaks, neither of you pulls away. You’re both breathless, your foreheads pressed together, feeling the weight of everything that has just shifted between you.

Kai’s voice is a whisper, barely audible, but you hear it clearly. “I’ve been waiting for this—for you—for so long.”

You smile softly, your hand over his heart, feeling the rhythm of it beneath your palm. “Me too,” you whisper back.

And in that moment, it all clicks. This isn’t just a kiss. This is the culmination of everything you’ve built. Everything you’ve both waited for. It’s not a fantasy anymore. It’s real. You’ve found each other.

The kiss lingers between you like the soft echo of a song you never wanted to end. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a silent admission, a wordless promise, a release of everything that has been building between you, unspoken and hidden. Kai pulls back just slightly, but the weight of his gaze on yours feels as if he’s reaching into the deepest corners of your soul. There’s something in his eyes, something that tells you everything, yet nothing at all.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” Kai begins, his voice a whisper, as fragile as the air between you. The tension in his voice—so raw, so vulnerable—sends a shiver through you. “Even before all of this… even before we realized what we meant to each other, I—” He stumbles over his words, his breath coming in shallow bursts, like someone standing on the edge of a precipice, afraid to fall.

You take a step closer, reaching for him, your hand finding his, grounding him, grounding yourself. You can feel his pulse, racing in sync with yours, the rhythm of your hearts mirroring the storm inside both of you. You offer him your silence, a soft encouragement that says everything without a word. “You can tell me anything, Kai,” you murmur, your voice steady, even as your heart flutters wildly within your chest.

He closes his eyes, as though gathering every shred of courage to speak the words that have been locked inside him for so long. Then, when his eyes meet yours again, they are filled with the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts, and his next words come out like a confession he’s been carrying since the first moment he laid eyes on you.

“I’m falling for you,” he says, the words tumbling from his lips, as soft as the first rain of spring but as heavy as the storms they promise. “I think I have been for a while. And I… I don’t want to hide from it anymore.”

Your heart stops for a beat, and then it races, thudding loudly in your ears, so strong and steady that it feels like the sound of an ancient drum calling you home. Every part of you trembles at his admission, the truth of it sinking into your bones, as though he’s just pulled the rug out from under your feet and you’re left floating, weightless and free.

You can feel it too. You always have. It’s like a quiet fire, smoldering in your chest, a warmth that grows and flickers every time he’s near. And now, with his words, it explodes. The fire consumes you. You are lost in it, but somehow, it’s the only place you want to be.

“Kai,” you whisper, your voice shaky with the weight of your own confession. Your hands tremble as they reach up to touch his face, your fingers brushing against his skin like the softest touch of wind on a still day. “I’m falling for you too. I didn’t want to admit it at first, but…” The words catch in your throat, but you push them out, letting them flow like a river breaking free from its banks. “I’ve never felt more sure of anything in my life.”

The world seems to still in that moment. The doubts, the fears, the questions—they all vanish like smoke in the wind. There’s only the quiet certainty that settles in your chest, heavier than any burden you’ve carried before. You know this is right. You know it in the deepest part of your soul.

Kai’s smile is soft, almost hesitant, but it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. His thumb brushes over your cheek, so gentle, so tender, like a promise, like a vow. The warmth of his touch is the kind of warmth you’ve been searching for your whole life, the kind that fills every crack in your heart and makes it whole again. “We’re not alone anymore, are we?” he murmurs, his voice a low, soothing hum in the quiet of the room.

“No,” you breathe, your voice steady now, stronger than you ever imagined it could be. “We’re not.”

In that simple exchange, something inside you both shifts. You no longer need to search for the answers to what’s been confusing you. You no longer need to chase what was never truly lost. The future is no longer an uncertain road ahead. It’s the path you’re walking together, one step at a time, hand in hand.

There’s a new understanding between you now, one that doesn’t require words. You’ve built something, not out of fate, but out of choice. You’ve created this bond from the ground up, in the moments where you bled and healed and trusted each other, even when it seemed like the world was telling you it wasn’t meant to be.

And just like that, you understand. Soulmates aren’t found in dreams. They’re not a perfect match sewn together by some divine plan. Soulmates are born from the jagged pieces of your life—broken, messy, imperfect—and when the time is right, those pieces fit together in a way that makes everything else fade away.

Soulmates are made in the waking world, when two people choose to find each other in the chaos, when they choose to heal the wounds of the past with the love they build from the ground up. They are made from the moments of doubt and pain, the moments of laughter and joy, and the quiet moments when you realize that this, this connection, is something you’ve created.

The kiss that follows is everything you’ve ever needed. It’s not just another kiss; it’s the culmination of years of searching, of longing, of waiting for the right person. It’s the promise of all the tomorrows you will share, and the soft surrender of all the yesterdays you’ve held onto.

When your lips finally part, you rest your forehead against Kai’s, breathing each other in, as if the world outside of this room has ceased to exist. His voice, a mere whisper, breaks the silence, but this time, there is no hesitation. “I’ve been waiting for this—for you—for so long.”

A tear slips down your cheek, but it’s not one of sadness. It’s a tear of release, of acceptance, of peace. You smile softly, the weight of your own heart finally finding rest. “Me too,” you whisper back, your voice full of everything you couldn’t say before.

Soulmates don’t have to be something you find—they are something you choose to become. Something you create, piece by piece, through every laugh, every tear, and every step you take together. And as you lean into Kai, your heart steady in its rhythm, you know this is just the beginning of a love that bends all odds, one that goes beyond fate’s grasp.

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: It's here!! To be honest, I don't feel as proud with the finished product as I thought I was but I really hope you would still like it. I'm so proud to have put this idea to life and I couldn't have done it without the amazing people who also partook in this event. They are so talented and I had so much fun with them. Make sure to check out everyone else's stories and give them your thoughts too~ Happy Valentine's Day you lovelies <3

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[sinmartini]

"crybaby." // soldier boy

notes: MDNI 18+ summary: soldier boy knows exactly how to get under your skin. luckily, he knows how to fix it, too. wc: 1110 warnings: p in v (unprotected), dubcon, use of the word 'dad,' arrogant!soldier boy (what else is new), pet names, fem!reader, not proofread, objectification, slight misogyny, age gap, gun mention.

“I don’t like you,” you told Soldier Boy. Plain and simple. That was that. 

There was something about the way he stared, about the way he spoke, about the way he moved. Leather clinging to his skin, a gun plastered to his hip as he barely glanced at you when you talked to him. 

Soldier Boy, or Ben, was the newest addition to your team, and you had never met anyone who could get under your skin the way he could. He didn’t even have to speak to crawl under your skin, resting against every single one of your nerves. It was amazing, truly, the way he could rile you up with a flick of his brow, or the arrogance caress of his tongue against his bottom lip.

Ben only made a gruff noise in response, but you could see the way he lifted his shoulders and dropped them in a way that exuded, ‘I don’t really care.’

“You’re arrogant,” you told him, deciding that right now was the best time to list all of the things about him that drove you crazy (newsflash: getting into it with Soldier Boy while the two of you were alone was probably your dumbest idea to date), “you stretch out on the couch like you own the place, the way you walk irritates me, and I think you’re unkind.”

Ben finally looked over at you, a small smirk dancing across his lips as he began counting all of the items you listed on his fingers. You tried not to watch the flick of his fingers, the way the veins on his hands popped as you spoke. “Only four things? There’s gotta be more, princess.”

“See!” You stood from the couch, hoping someone— Frenchie, Hughie, Kimiko— would walk through the door and save you from having to spend too much alone time with Ben. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’re so arrogant.”

“I never said I wasn’t,” Ben threw his shoulders up, nonchalance washed over his features like he didn’t have a care in the world. It was absolutely, mind bogglingly infuriating to you.

Typically, you let this kind of stuff roll off your back. If someone annoyed you, you could ignore it. Hell, even if someone was downright mean to you, it was easy to remove yourself from the feelings it stirred and detach from the situation. But for whatever reason, that was not the case with Soldier Boy. The more you tried to detach yourself, the more you found yourself doing the complete opposite.

“Whatever,” you huffed, falling back into the couch, careful to leave enough space between yourself and Ben.

“I think you just don’t know how to handle me,” Ben stated, running his palm against the meat of his thigh as he stretched his legs out, completely manspreading.

“What?” The hell was that supposed to mean?

“I mean,” Ben sat up straighter, his eyes now locked on the side of your head as you tried your best to not catch his gaze, “I think you’re used to boys who you can boss around, and I don’t take shit like that from you which makes you feel a little… Well, crazy.”

You could feel your throat tightening. The worst thing about when you felt angry, or worse, called out, was the tears that would prickle at the corner of your eyes. As soon as that feeling settled in, it was hard to stop. Saliva pooled in your mouth, frustration causing your heart to beat a little faster.

“No,” you tried to correct him, but your voice quivered just enough to catch his attention, and his expression which was once nonchalant was now piqued with interest. You could see it, the way Ben’s eyes were lighting up, his lips turning upward into a devilish smile. And this was probably the most irritating thing about him— he was so handsome.

“Crybaby,” Ben cooed, his tone laced with mockery, a delicate taunt dancing across his face as he offered a faux pout. “Come here.”

You sat there, arms crossed over your chest as he mocked you, only adding to the pressure you felt in your chest and tightness in your throat. How were you supposed to respond to that? As so many iterations of responses you might be able to conjure if you weren’t feeling so overwhelmed flowed in and out of your brain, Ben piped up once more. “I said c’mere.”

There wasn’t any rhyme or reason as to why you listened to him, why you moved across the couch cushions like a kitten, and crawled into his lap when you were just telling him how much you didn’t like him. And you didn’t understand why you didn’t protest when he lifted your skirt just enough to slide his thumb in between your thighs and stroke softly, almost in a soothing way.

“Dad’s gotcha,” Ben said, and you froze at his words, not expecting to like the way they fell from his lips in hushed whisper, “we’ve just gotta fuck it out right, princess?”

And that’s how you ended up with his cock inside of you, curling up into you as he moved you up and down his shaft in a beat that kissed your cervix with every slam. His hands were wrapped around your hips, fingers indented into your skin in such a harsh way, you were sure there would be bruises in the shape of his fingers tomorrow.

Whines pulled from your throat, falling from your lips as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pure ecstasy.

“I hate you,” you told him, riding him reverse cowgirl style on the couch that the rest of team payback would be splaying out on later. Did you feel a little guilty for this? Yeah. A bit. But no one had to know, right?

“You don’t hate me, princess,” Ben corrected, pushing up into you as his large hands moved your core back down on him. That one motion pushed you over the edge completely, hitting your peak without any clitoral stimulation.

The moans that came from you were moans you didn’t even know you could curate. They sounded innately primal, desire consuming your every being as you rode out your high on his cock, sweat accumulating in a thin layer on top of your skin. 

“We’ll do that again?” You asked Ben, nearly forgetting that this was the same man you were adamant about hating, his cock still inside of you as you leaned your back against his chest, heaves causing your chest to rise and fall at a fast pace, “right?”

“If you’re good,” Ben could only chuckle.