#every time I open that dumb app I see mark making THAT face

[gigglecoffin]

He keeps fallowing me

[cinnamonest]

Albedo idol girl darling thoughts M A N I F E S T E D

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Well, to be entirely honest, he thinks the whole idol thing is a little dumb.

For someone like him, at least. He's a PhD student in his final semester, lots of work to be done and all that. So, you know, he's a responsible, accomplished adult. Not the kind of person who gets into "that stuff," as he calls it in his head.

Nor does he even know how he encountered it... He just takes the occasional break from work to mindlessly open whatever app first pops into his vision and scroll through the feed. He's never watched anything like it in his life, so he's not exactly sure why he gets recommended some idol girl thing, and even less sure why he taps it without really thinking. Probably one of those videos that gets recommended to everyone. Well, can't be that, it doesn't have that many views... Probably loosely connected to some video game he's searched before or something. He's familiar with idols and what they are, and the subculture surrounding them, but he's never really cared about it.

Honestly, it's kinda pathetic that a bunch of grown adult men get so obsessed over these girls, he thinks as he watches. He's seen the type. Lonely, asocial dudes, most definitely virgins whose only female attention in their entire life is their mother, well into adulthood with no real social group to speak of.

...Not that he's much better off, but he hasn't quite sunk down to their level. The only reason he doesn't talk to people much is because they're busy, and he's even busier. He managed to make a few friends in undergrad years. Well, study partners who mooched off his notes since he was one of the top students, but same idea. They were people he spoke to more than once, which is what constitutes a friend, right? And for the record, one time in high school a girl in his class said she liked his hair. He hasn't changed the way he wears it since. Whenever he's sad, he thinks about that compliment from 10+ years ago, and it makes him feel a little better. But now, he's constantly slammed with work and research.

And his acquaintances are also all busy. He sees notifications every now and then from social media he never checks. Everyone is getting married at this stage in life, both friends and even other PhD students in his department. Not that he's ever been invited to a wedding, he just overhears a lot of conversations, sees notifications of posts. And he will too, eventually. He just has to finish up his degree, and then... Meet a girl. Well, that's actually the second step, step one would be finding out how to go about meeting a girl. He's... Never done it before. Probably does not happen sitting in the research lab at 11:30 pm on YouTube. He's talked to one of the other PhD students who's a girl before. And only stutters sometimes. He was even able to look her in the face while he talked to her once. That's a good start.

Ok, so maybe he is a little bit pathetic, but not as bad as... These guys. Reading the comments of the video actually make him feel a little better about himself, because frankly, they're kinda wild. The worship and fawning over girls is one thing, but they even have timestamps referring to various members like "she's super cute here!" Or "you can kinda see her thigh at 3:12!" Etc etc. Yeesh, creepy. And they get into comment fights over who is the best member, as if it even matters. It's fascinating in a human-social-experiment sort of way, the manifestation of a subculture and how humans interact with each other. On and on it goes, hundreds of commenters. He pays more attention to the comments than the actual video, but the song is kinda catchy in that annoying sort of way, and the girls are cute, just kinda... The typical thing he'd expect from idol groups. But the building will close soon, so he taps back to home screen and swipes the app closed.

Unfortunately, the algorithm remembers.

And he's not certain why he clicks the next one either, the following day. The lunch breaks he takes are usually pretty rushed. Not that he has specific class times at his level of academia, but he likes to get his work done. He intentionally eats either a bit later or earlier than the lunch crowd to avoid crowds and interactions. Finds a nice secluded little table tucked away. So when he opens it back up, what do you know, several more videos get recommended. It's absent minded when he taps on one, the kind of numb-brained entertainment every modern person indulges in, videos you wouldn't really be interested in but just watch because they're there.

Ok, this is really creepy. These dudes have made compilation videos of close ups of each specific girl. It's the same group as the video he saw before, same little lewd costumes. Admittedly the girls are kinda cute. He can kinda understand the appeal. But he's not like those guys, he would never become like, obsessed with them.

The song is actually really catchy. The kind of mindlessly addictive, repetitive pop music that's the same four chords over and over, each song is so similar you can't really tell them apart, but it gets stuck in your head anyway. This group has... nine members. Who needs that many singers in one group? It's not like a band or anything, they all just sing and do their little choreography. Guess that's a form of talent, even though he doesn't really get it.

Some of the groups he sees in recommended videos are cute and wholesome, and while this group is cute too, there's a very... Blatantly intentional lewdness to their poses and costumes. A hypersexualized sort of cuteness. Clearly marketed at lonely losers who have nothing better to do with their time than obsess over a girl who will never even know they exist.

He taps another video.

So many compilations, yikes. He has to give the guys credit, they're insanely loyal to the individual member that they decide to fixate on. Oh, and they even make official figurines and posters for these girls, that's... Something.

And a few days later he can kinda recognize the girls. They have color themes, you know, identical costumes except each girl's is a different color. This lead one is red, this main backup is blue, etc etc. Lots of bright colors. Kinda hurts his eyes to be honest.

And he's seen compilations of every girl except... The pink one. The pink one is always kinda off to the side. Well, these groups do have their favoritism, there's apparently one or two lead singers in all of the major idol groups, and the rest are basically backups and dancers. Still, a lot of dudes get super devoted to the non-main girls. So yeah, he's never seen a compilation for the pink one... He can't always exactly remember which one is which but now he's seen enough to know the other girls' names. He's not sure what hers is though. So he googles it and gets the name.

Wonder why she doesn't have as many videos...? Oh, it's because she's the newest member. Only been around a few months. There's... A whole board dedicated to the group, which he's getting this information from. Wow, pathetic. What kind of person spends their free time browsing a forum for an idol group? Well, he's just doing it to find information, not for fun or anything. He was just curious. Now he knows and he can forget about it and never look at anything related to them again... after he types her name and group name into the YouTube search bar and checks the results out, that is.

Oh, so they do have some compilations for her, just not many. "(Name) thigh compilation." Fuck, these people have no limits to how creepy and pathetic they can get, he thinks... as he watches the video. Ok, admittedly there are some good thigh shots there. There's a comment. "At 4:26 you can see her panties." Pathetic. They're not wrong though. Just to be sure, you see, he tapped the timestamp, and you can, in fact, see them. Stripes. Cute.

But he still has to do his work. Can't get too invested in watching mindless videos all day. He's got a thesis to work on.

That makes him curious, though, he thinks as he goes about his research. Do these girls go to school? Do they like, skip college, or do they join some kind of performing arts school or...? So he googles it. He can remember the pink one's name now, so he just finds her Wikipedia page. Oh, so she joined right out of high school and has been in various groups ever since.

Wait, various groups? So she has more groups she's been in? What are those? Before he typed her name into the search along with the group name, but if he just searches her name he gets... A lot more content from earlier years. Huh. Didn't know some of them did group-hopping like that.

Still, no education. Must be all smiles and body and no brains. Guess that's all you really need. Yeah, looking at that whole act they do... All giggly and childish and lewd... She's probably not too bright. At least she's pretty and sings nice. And the thighs are rather good. Smooth looking. They have a sort of jiggle when she jumps up and down on stage. The thigh highs they make those girls wear have that nice little dip where the skin is compressed by the fabric. Like... right there at that closeup. He takes a screenshot.

It's readily available, he's already seen the video and knows the best parts, whereas searching for porn would take time. The sooner he can get the daily stress relief out of the way the sooner he can work on his thesis. So this way is faster. That's why he's jerking off to the thigh video and not taking the time to look for porn. Plus, it makes him cum faster. Which it probably shouldn't since it's just thighs, but... Probably has something to do with the tease of it all maybe. That makes sense.

Or maybe it's that cute little giggle he can hear at some parts. She smiles and jumps and spins and laughs.

...It makes him wonder what she'd look like crying. Scared. Whimpering. Covered in bruises and bite marks. The contrast between that state and the one on the screen. The process and the things he could do to get her from one to the other. Yeah, he realizes, it's that thought, rather than the happy giggling on video or tease aspect, that makes him cum.

He's aware that his... tastes... are a little on the fucked up side, but hey, there's plenty of bastards out there far worse than him.

One day he discovers she has social media platforms. He... Doesn't really have any. He doesn't have Twitter or Instagram or any of that but... He downloads the app and makes an account for each. Just to follow her. Ooh, they even have the option to get a notification every time she posts... That's good. Otherwise he might check too frequently. He sets a special sound effect for notifications for her socials. The first few times, you see, he would get super excited when his phone went off, only to be disappointed when it was just a work email. Thus, he made the separate sounds.

He wouldn't say he has a favorite, that sounds really cringey you know? He just... Likes her more than the others. ...Dammit, that's what a favorite is. Ok, maybe he has a favorite, that's not that bad. He's not obsessed. He hasn't bought any merchandise at all or anything, especially not member-specific merchandise. Which they do have, because he visited the store page for a while and spent all his willpower physically restraining himself from buying something. It's not that he's biased, he just thinks she's objectively better than the rest of the group. Which can be backed up with evidence, anyone with eyes could tell by watching the performances.

As to what specifically draws him to her... he's not certain, to be honest. Maybe it's because she's the least appreciated out of the group, new and all. The less popular one. Or maybe her personality... She seems so sweet, even though he knows it's probably just an act for the fans. Or maybe just those thighs. That's also a valid possibility.

He cracks and buys some of the merchandise. Only about $300 worth. But honestly, he gets more invested into just printing out pictures of you. Pasting them onto the wall above his desktop. It keeps him going when the nights are hard.

But he refrains from ever commenting on anything. Some of these losers are just... so embarrassing, he can't stomach the thought of being associated, even if it's just an anonymous comment online. It's still pretty... Distasteful. He still browses the boards every day. You're his lock screen now. And home screen. And also your solo is his ringtone. He only sets his phone on sound when he's alone at home, though, when he's at work he puts it on vibrate. He... doesn't want anyone hearing that. No offense. He has some appropriate amount of shame, unlike the other bastards.

And the girls probably know that most of their fans are these kind of loser men, right? She'd probably be surprised someone nearly graduating with a chemistry doctorate is sitting around watching these dumb videos. Is that more or less pathetic? He thinks less, hopefully.

In fact, the other fans kind of irritate him. They're really cringy and annoying and it gives him secondhand embarrassment. And something... Deeper. Something about seeing the comments upsets him on a visceral level. It's gross. Sure, he's grateful for the dudes who sit around and make a list of timestamps for upskirt shots and the like, but... It kinda bothers him, feeling like there's some other dude out there sitting around, watching these long videos with his gross eyes and recording the times of shots that get him off. It feels gross. But more like... A violation against you. Sure, your group is very blatantly sexualized and intentionally risque in clothing but... Still, it feels wrong for someone to go through and get to see all of that.

Well, someone else. It's ok for him, since he's not a gross degenerate like the rest of them. He does genuinely see himself as... Above them. You know how like, back in the day, how the nobles used to sit around and watch plays from the far back while the peasants gathered around the stage? It's like that. He's not a gross loser or a NEET or anything like that. He's got a life. Well... Not a social life, but he's doing better than them, at least he has a degree, and soon a higher degree, and a job. He has a lot of things they don't. Basic hygiene. Student loan debt. And uh... Well, he's probably more pleasant to interact with, at least he's not gonna be frothing at the mouth like an animal if he saw you in real life. He would certainly freeze up, but that's preferable, isn't it?

And one day there's a video circulating in the idol community - not that he's a part of it or anything, he just keeps getting the dumb videos and watching them for mindless entertainment - where some girl group had an attempted kidnapping. Not her group, but some other group. The video has gone viral. Some dude tried to rush the stage and pull one of the girls away. Apparently the cops found he had an obsession with her.

What an idiot. If you're gonna kidnap someone, put some effort in, jeez. It's not hard to figure out how to do it right.

If that were him, he wouldn't be that stupid, he'd just look for an interval where she's alone. They have those solo or breakout group songs where some of the girls are backstage, just get her then. Memorize the concert schedule, wear something over your face, chloroform her, and stuff her into something and walk right out. Easy.

....

He catches himself in the thought and realizes that might have been a bit creepy, but he was just thinking in terms of hypotheticals. If he was the kind of crazy to do that, that's what he'd do, that's all.

He's always enjoyed entertaining strategic thoughts, really. He's had a couple fantasies about how he would commit murders of this or that person before, and he's never murdered anyone, so thoughts don't lead to actions. He just... Really doesn't like those people, and the fantasies help him... Deal with it. He just likes to strategize about methods, and how he'd get away with it... Stuff like that. Actually, he's convinced it's a very normal thing, but no one wants to admit it. Everyone has detailed murder fantasies every now and then.

Which is why this is no different. He's just strategizing because it's fun. He has no intentions of doing anything for real. He just plans out the details like a game. And tells himself to just never think about it again.

Until one specific night that he's staring down at his screen. Lying in bed. He should be asleep, he needs to be up early tomorrow but... He's just checking to be sure he's reading this correctly. You're coming to his town? He wouldn't think so, since it's not too big, just your average college town. But still, you'll be right here, right in his general vicinity, not far away at all.

Not that he'd ever actually go to such an event. No way. He hates crowds with a passion. He hates loud environments even more. A concert is like his worst nightmare. Besides, knowing the general audience of your group, it'll be a bunch of sweaty NEET dudes who haven't showered in a month and haven't crawled out of their house in even longer. No thank you.

But.

That's when the thought pops back up. It's been a few months since that night he had that strategizing fantasy, and, well, he tried to forget it but... It kinda lingered in the back of his mind. And now it's back in full force.

He shrugs the idea off. It's crazy. He'd never actually do something like that. It was just a fantasy.

...But he could get away with it if he wanted to.

He's not scared or anything, no, he's confident in his strategizing. He knows he could. Totally. It's foolproof. There's no need to carry it out to know that, besides, what would he even do with you?

Well, he's pretty certain he does know what he would do with you. He's watched that thigh video maybe a hundred times now. And even if he won't admit it, he's jerked off to the exact same fantasy for like, several months.

He doesn't really... Think about it. Just kind of slips into subconscious actions. Autopilot. One click and well, there goes $400 on an amp case. His eyes gaze over the dimensions... And then there's your height on the Wikipedia page... Yeah... That should work. He gets it sent to the address a few doors down just in case, and snatches it from in front of their door, but he finds himself backpedaling. What the hell is he doing? He would never actually go through with this, what a waste of money... But he still opens it. Sets it beside his front door. Tests the wheels to make sure they work.

He knows how to make chloroform. He doesn't need YouTube tutorials (unlike a certain someone else), he knows exactly how to do it, even alternate methods besides the usual acetone and bleach combination - so long as you end up with the same chemical makeup, it's all the same. He just goes with the traditional way though... Doesn't really know why he does it. Just mutters as he stares down at the concoction wondering why he wasted his time... But he pauses before pouring it down the sink, and instead puts it in a container and keeps it on the counter. Your weight is on Wikipedia too. Taking into account your height and weight you would need about... Yeah, a very specific amount to knock you out for about three hours.

The concert day draws closer and closer and he can't sleep very well. His mind keeps running what-ifs. Just, hypothetically, what if he did go through with it? What then? What would he do long term? How would that all work out?

Well, you'd probably hate him for a while, right? But that changes. Stockholm syndrome sets in. He would know, he had to take Psych 101 back in undergrad, and the professor talked about it for a full 10 minutes, so he's basically an expert. It's been like, 7 years since then, but he still kinda remembers it. He remembers that it's supposed to set in at about 2 weeks, and solidify with time. If the captor is nice, that is, which he totally would be. ...Maybe not in bed, but most of the time. He would be nice to you, and you would start to like him. Besides, they said Stockholm syndrome set in faster if the abductor has good qualities, so, he could also reason with you, remind you that you're lucky you got abducted by someone with money - or, well, he will have money once he graduates! - and isn't some ugly gross slob. He's clean and neat. Sorta... He'll clean up all those dishes that have been sitting there a few days now, pick up all those clothes off the floor... Ok, now he's clean and neat. And, uh, what else would girls care about... He's smart. He's pretty sure he can say that with confidence, if nothing else.

Ok, so, it would work. He could... Keep you kinda... Tied up here... If you started complying within that two week period, he could get you up and walking before atrophy set in. You'd probably have to get used to the lifestyle... Right now he's kinda on a budget, but, he can get you things to keep you occupied... And so, yeah, it could work. It's simple, just keep you with him and isolated for a few weeks and uh, you'll transform into some kind of hypersexual obedient cumslut and never want to leave. That's... How Stockholm syndrome works right? Maybe he should have paid more attention in that class... Oh well. He never liked psychology.

So the day draws nearer and nearer and he starts really getting into the right... Headspace. It's a sort of manic state that he's in. Operating without really thinking, all inhibitions removed by simply refusing to think about it. He lets the subconscious take over and do all these little things to prepare, until finally that day is tomorrow. And then he kinda snaps back to full awareness and questions, again, what the hell is he doing? He can't just... Kidnap a person! Normal people don't do that... It's illegal, he'll get caught, it'll ruin his life and....

What life does he really have to ruin?

That's the thought that sort of solidifies the decision. He realizes why he's even on this path in the first place. Sure he's got a lot of academic accomplishments, but his life is... Rather empty. He doesn't really have anyone. Maybe that's why he's slowly become... Consumed by this obsession that yes, he's now willing to admit to himself is indeed an obsession. It's kinda slowly taken over his everyday life without him even noticing it was happening. He's... Kinda miserable. And very lonely. And... If nothing else... This one girl makes him feel kinda happy.

... Which is why he's going to go through with it.

And he slips back into autopilot, ends up standing outside the building. It's every bit as loud and headache-inducing as he knew it would be. Ugh. He can't wait to get out of here. If this doesn't work, well, he'll be forced to turn around. The plan is a very simple one, actually... Act like he's supposed to be there. And he does. Dresses in all black like stage technicians do, dragging his big amp case behind him, holding a bunch of cords from random things he grabbed in his house, and tries not to look nervous, keeps a neutral face and walks straight forward and... He slides right in. The security guards off to the side don't even bat an eye.

And then he has a moment of "well, I didn't expect to get this far." Pauses. So uh... what now? Well, probably should find you first. He memorized the setlist, so he knows when you'll be off... And alone. Right now there should be three of the girls backstage. It's pretty easy to find where you are, but he's paranoid that the amp case is too loud as he's dragging it around. It's necessary, though. And then, finally, he stumbles upon the room... Opens the door, half expecting to be immediately stopped, but... He can just kinda waltz right in here, some open backroom, a person here or there coming through, a lady that looks like a makeup artist doing something over there, and an actual, real tech guy over there... And over to the far back corner... Oh. That's you. He takes a moment to revel in the sight, unable to move or even breathe, and has to mentally prepare himself before moving forward. He's... Not sure exactly what to do at this point... It's kind of perfect, to be honest, there's no one around you, and you're right out of sight, where he could turn the corner and not be seen. But he's not sure how to... Approach? He thinks about it as he walks, but again, autopilot is on in his brain and he's just numbly walking forward. Does he just... Keep walking until he's right at you and just... Or...?

And a miracle happens. You hear someone coming and you turn and smile and ask are you the tech guy here to fix my mic? You point to the little microphone attached to your face. They told you someone would be coming to fix it before your next song. You presume that's him, since he's dressed in all black like all the other stage techs. He hesitates a moment, wide eyed, but then nods. Yeah, that's him, he says. His voice cracks when he says it. It's kinda cute.

You smile at him. It's wide and sweet and genuine and it almost makes him pass out on the spot. He has to swallow for a second before continuing.

But, uh, he can't do it right here he says, because fiddling with it could disrupt the uh, frequencies, cause that really shrill sound you hear sometimes. So, um, come over this way a sec, over in this dark corner of the studio conveniently out of the view of all people and security cameras. You don't know how any of that stuff works, so you trust him, it's his job after all. So you get up and straighten your little skirt out - wow those are even more revealing in person - and walk over it the dark corner where he's waiting and... it's the last thing you remember.

He does a quick look left and right to ensure no one saw you collapse in his arms, but sure enough, this area is empty. You fit into the amp case with ease. Just curl your body up and pop the lid on. Wait, can you... breathe in there? Well, it won't take long to get outside. He just rolls the case right out the door, right past the guards again, and no one stops him, no one suspects a thing. Puts the case in the backseat, opens the lid, does a quick check go make sure you're breathing alright. So he props it open by keeping a book in between the case and lid as he drives home.

Once he does get home, he just does the same thing he did before - close the lid, roll you into the elevator and up the stairs and into his place, looking back over his shoulder over and over. And once he gets you inside he just kinda... falls to his knees. Shivering. Disbelief. Because holy shit he actually did it. He actually went through with it and it worked. He sits there and stares at the case and - oh, fuck, gotta open it again for you to breathe. Actually, he might as well... take you out... when he first shoved you in, he was so high on adrenaline he didn't really process any of it, but now... he almost can't bring himself to take you out. That means he has to, like, touch you. He's gotta take a moment to mentally prepare for that. So he does. Deep breaths. And finally, with trembling hands, pulls you out, carries you on shakey legs over to the bed and sets you down.

You know, you're a lot... Smaller... Than you looked on screen. Sure, he knew your height and weight but... somehow you still seem so much smaller than he expected. That's good. Will make everything a lot easier, since you're easier to restrain. And your thighs. They're... so soft. This is so much better than the video. They're so... fleshy and warm in person. Perfect. And wow, that skirt thing is... scratchy. Actually, up close, that whole outfit thing you wear looks super uncomfortable. It probably is. ...Well, guess he now has a reason to take it off.

The rest of your skin is... also fleshy and soft. Warm. Your face... chest... stomach... everything. Your tits are really cute, too. It occurs to him that all those rabid commenters on all those boards and videos would probably kill to be him right now, pinching and squeezing at your nipples. He's seeing something they will never see. It gives him an ego boost, to be honest, makes him feel proud to get a sort of one-up on them. He gets you naked, but refrains from pulling your legs apart. He probably... wouldn't be able to control himself, and he's aiming for some self-control right now.

So he waits. Breathes deep. Restrains himself with every ounce of willpower he has. It occurs to him he has no fucking clue what he's gonna say to you. Unfortunately, that thought occurs to him as you're starting to twitch and mumble, so, he doesn't have too much time to think. Oh, fuck, you're not restrained... well, he bought some duct tape and handcuffs and blindfolds off of amazon too, so he quickly puts those in place as you're starting to wake up, and then finally, you come to full consciousness -- that telltale jerking at the restraints, the muffled little cry of confusion and fear. It's kinda hot to be honest. Well, fuck, very hot actually. You're so scared. It gives him a rush of power. Said rush goes straight to his dick.

He's got a mixed twist of guilt and arousal at the whole thing, but... he's still trying to have some self control... and if you start begging and pleading and crying, it would be too much. Oh, no, not that it would be too much in terms of guilt, no no, just that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from fucking you if he sees you cry. So he leaves the restraints on for now, so he can't see your face emote.

Then, he does something really, really mean. He knows it's cruel, honestly, it's just... so cute. What that is, is that he does nothing. Says nothing. He goes about his work, typing away, knowing you can hear, but doesn't say a word. He knows you're awake, he just wants to see how long you can sit there scared out of your mind before you finally make another noise to draw his attention. Right now, he thinks, you're probably debating, you're probably questioning whether you should keep quiet and make him think you're still out or make a noise... but eventually you will. He can see you trembling. You're probably thinking so many horrible things right now, wondering what will happen, what he'll do to you... it fills him with a sort of sadistic glee that overrides the guilt it comes along with. Sure, the guilt is there, but fuck, he could almost cum just watching you shiver, and that's more important.

And you finally make a noise. A little whimper. He stops typing, and swears he sees you tense when he does. And when he stands up, walks over to you (making sure to stomp hard and walk slow for extra effect, watching the way you curl in on yourself with each step he takes), and stops right in front of you. Finally, tells you not to scream. He's gonna give you water, ok? You nod. And, surprisingly, you don't make any move to scream or anything, you let him give it to you. You don't move a muscle besides your shaking and sucking the straw and swallowing the water. You must be really scared of him. He knows that's technically not what he should want, but... it feels nice.

He spent that time of silence coming up with what to say to you. He says that for now, you're going to stay right here. Don't ask questions. Don't make any attempt to escape. If you really need something, tap the headboard until he hears. Understand?

You're... Surprisingly receptive. You give a twitchy smile and stammer out an o-okay. He's almost pleased, but quickly realizes what you're doing.

You've been trained for this, you see. This kind of thing is attempted rather frequently in the industry. You received training for this situation - comply, don't fight, prioritize your safety, because in 99% of these cases, the missing idol is found and recovered within 48 hours. So you do what you were told to do -- smile, pretend you're ok with it, don't do anything to anger your captor.

He knows that too. He doesn't do much in that 48 hours, in fact, he even tells you he's waiting to "see what happens." He knows he can't control himself very well, so he stays in his living room for the most part and works on research, it might be pointless if he's in jail a few hours from now, but oh well. Sleeps on his couch. He offers to feed you, but you say you don't feel good. He understands.

See, in his mind, if he gets to fuck you once or twice and then be hauled off to prison and never touch you again, well, that would be actual, literal torture, so much so that never fucking you at all would be more bearable. So that's why he forces himself to wait now. He feels like he can't breathe, he's so nervous, like any moment police are going to come knocking on his door. Every little sound makes him jump. He can't sleep.

But 48 hours pass and... nothing happens.

He breathes a bit easier. Finally dares to go online, which he's been avoiding, and check on your situation... Oh, wow, social media has exploded over your disappearance. But... They have no leads. Nothing. Says she basically vanished out of thin air. Situation is, quote, "looking hopeless." Huh. He did an even better job than he thought he did. There's videos from loved ones begging the captor to let the girl go, offering to give him money even. A lot of money. But, you're more valuable than any monetary measurements could ever conceive. And he's happy. It really worked out. Everything went right, and for once, he has something that really, really makes him happy.

Likewise, the 48 hours are even more torturous for you. You start out telling yourself it'll be fine. Hopeful. But that hope in your chest slowly, gradually dies out as you realize you've hit the 48-hour mark. Even for a normal missing person, you've always heard that if they don't find them within 48 hours... the chances of ever finding them goes down significantly. But, that's because they're usually dead, right? And this guy won't kill you, so, your chances are better, right...?

He comes back after that 48 hours and finally, for the first time since you woke up, crawls onto the bed, touches you, grabs your hips with his hands. Tells you that, well, they haven't found anything yet and it looks like they aren't going to, so you're officially his now, and he's no longer worried. You should accept it. It'll make things easier for both of you if you do. You'll get adjusted in no time, you'll see.

Unsurprisingly, you're a bit less compliant than you were when you had hope. You whimper and and struggle, but it's really weak. So much so it's cute. You ask who he is. No one important, he says. Just... A fan of yours. You can hear clothes shuffling. He doesn't waste time, he's already waited two whole days suffering, so he gets his dick in you pretty quickly. Manages to make you cum. It horrifies you and kinda surprises him too to be honest. You must kinda like pain, huh. Well, that works out well.

As time goes on, what hope you had left dies completely. Weeks pass. You realize they're not coming for you. In an attempt to get you to accept it, he even shows you that you've been replaced. They're rather quick to fix the absence. They have a new girl in your spot by the end of the month. He quickly realizes maybe he shouldn't have told you, from the way your face falls and you get all hysterical. Sorry. It's the way the industry is. Don't worry. She's not even half as cute as you.

He shows you the announcement when they close the investigation, too. This also earns a rather hysterical response, but he thinks it's important you see it, so you can finally come to terms with your fate, the way things were always meant to turn out. He gets a bit frustrated. Just accept it. It's not that hard. The sooner you do, the happier you'll be. It's for your own good that you accept it.

And you do. Try as you might. You begin to make conversation. He's the only source of interaction you have. You learn about him and his life. You become invested in it. You start to cum more easily. When he's sitting on the opposite side of the bed typing away, you find yourself slowly wiggling your way over and pressing yourself against the warmth, and he certainly doesn't mind. You ask him about his research just to hear a voice talk.

And sometimes you sing. It's absent minded, soft and quiet, when you have nothing else to do. He likes that a lot. You get sweeter. Nicer. Fight less. It does take a bit longer than two weeks to set in fully. But it does in the end.

He can't be with you 24/7, as much as he would like to be, so sometimes he has to tell you to just hang on a little while. Be good and sit still for just a bit. He'll be back soon. Just give him an hour. You're just really distracting and, well, his progress report is due tomorrow morning.

And you keep getting upset over the new member, bring it up a lot... It must have really bothered you, huh. Well, don't feel bad about being replaced. To him, nothing could ever replace you... you're still his favorite.

[hookingminor]

highly requested part 2 to this angsty blurb, and this marks the end of my 2k blurb weekend! thank you all for joining me and I hope you enjoyed!

-

Matthew wandered back to the hotel well after midnight.

The rehearsal dinner ended around nine in the evening, but after spending an hour on that deck thinking about everything you said, he decided to take a long walk around the neighborhood.

He wandered through the church venue Willow had booked and sat at the pews for a few minutes, taking in all the decorations that were already set up. Then, he made his way back to the barn where the reception would take place, and all of it just felt wrong: the decor, the table settings, the flowers, none of it felt right.

Matthew didn’t put much thought into the wedding, per Willow’s requests, but it only hit him just how little he contributed to all of it as he sat on his hotel bed and thought about what his ideal wedding would look like.

He didn’t even want to get married in Calgary.

It made sense he would since Willow had lived here her whole life, but Matthew always imagined his wedding taking place in St. Louis where his entire family and all his friends could attend. Besides his immediate family and teammates, no one else could make the long trip to Calgary for his wedding.

When Matthew pictured his wedding, he also pictured you standing at the end of the aisle, too. Matthew was sure Willow’s dress would be gorgeous and she would look absolutely beautiful tomorrow, but when he pictured you standing there in her place, he was filled with a fluttering of butterflies in his stomach he couldn’t deny.

Which is what led him to knocking on Willow’s door at one in the morning.

It took a few minutes before she woke, bleary eyed and confused as to why her fiance was seeking her out so late in the night. “Matthew? What is it? You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding.” She pulled her robe tighter around her body, as if trying to shield Matthew’s eyes from her.

That was another superstition Matthew didn’t like. He nearly begged Willow to spend the night with him before the wedding, not buying into the ‘bad luck’ bullshit people always said about sleeping together before the ceremony, but she wouldn’t budge.

“I know, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I think we need to talk,” Matthew said. He was still dressed in his suit from the dinner, though he’d shed his jacket and tie long ago. Willow’s face fell at his words, but she let him inside her room anyway.

Matthew sat on the edge of the bed awkwardly and fiddled with his thumbs as Willow sat next to him. Silence filled the room. Matthew didn’t know how to say it.

“Is this about Y/N?” Willow asked calmly after a few minutes passed. “I saw you two talking outside earlier.”

Matthew looked at his fiance, her eyes sad and face dismal. He nodded.

“I figured,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said because he didn’t know what else to say.

Then Willow said the most unexpected thing.

“It’s okay.”

Matthew’s confusion was clear on his face, and Willow let out a genuine laugh as she took his hand in hers.

“I thought if you saw her and she moved on, we could’ve made this work, but that wasn’t the case, was it?” She asked, and Matthew nodded again.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” she continued. “I always knew you still loved her.”

“I really did love you,” Matthew said. “I do love you… it’s just…”

“You love her more,” Willow finished for him.

“I am sorry,” Matthew pleaded. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but then I saw her and… I can’t let her go.”

“I know,” Willow said, squeezing his hand comfortingly, and then let out a deep sigh. “Well, I guess we better tell our folks the wedding’s off, huh?”

-

Matthew showed up to your place a month later.

He stood outside your apartment, nervous and shaking, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. You hadn’t heard from him since booking the first flight out of Calgary, dodging all his calls and texts that came in over the week after his wedding. You effectively stayed off social media, deleting all the apps you knew you still had Matthew on in fear of seeing wedding pictures.

The surprise on your face was evident when you answered the door to find Matthew on the other side.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon or something?” You asked.

“I didn’t go through with it. I couldn’t after seeing you,” Matthew explained. “Can I come in?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you let Matthew follow you inside. He’d never seen your apartment before. You’d moved places shortly after your breakup, trying to erase the memories of Matthew that existed on every surface of your old apartment.

He held out the flowers for you, which you took and placed into a vase and filled with water. Matthew’s eyes roamed your new place, taking in all the photos you had on your fridge to the books you kept on your bookshelves.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Matthew?” You asked.

Matthew’s gaze focused back on you. “I always hated it when you called me Matthew.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“What do you want?” You rephrased, ignoring his comment.

“I want to give us another shot,” Matthew answered confidently.

You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting him to say, but it was definitely not that.

“Matthew—”

“And before you tell me how bad of an idea it is, because I know that’s what you’re about to say, just hear me out.”

Your mouth snapped shut and you waited for him to continue.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for years, and I’m never going to not be in love with you,” Matthew said. “After you left, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I realized that marrying Willow wasn’t what I wanted. When I picture my future I see you in it. I see you at the end of that aisle on our wedding day. I see you and me in a house with a dog and maybe a few kids. I see you waiting for me at home at the end of the day, and I see you beside me when I wake up in the morning.”

“Matthew, we tried this before,” you sighed. “We tried the long distance, and it didn’t work.”

“And I’m willing to try again,” Matthew replied, crossing the few feet of space between you to cup your face in his hands. “We were young and dumb and immature, and I pressured you to change your life for me when I shouldn’t have. I’m not asking you to pack up your life and move to Calgary right now. Hell, if you don't ever want to move to Canada, you don’t have to. I’ll move to wherever you want to be because wherever you are is where I belong.”

“I’m in this for the long haul,” he added. “There is no one else out there for me, and there never will be.”

Tears welled in your eyes at his profession, and Matthew’s thumb came to swipe at a stray tear that rolled down your cheek.

“What makes you think this time will be different?” You questioned softly.

“Because I’m different. We’re different. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. You’re all I want.”

“You’d really request a trade for me?” Matthew nodded.

“It wasn’t fair to put that all on you then, and I know that. I shouldn’t have asked you to do something I wasn’t willing to do myself, but I’m telling you now that I’d do anything for you,” he answered.

Throwing your arms around Matthew’s neck, you pressed your entire body into his. Arms tightened around your torso, keeping you snug against him, and Matthew tucked your head into his chest.

“So what do you say? Can you give me a second chance?” He mumbled into your hair.

“I think we’re well past second chances,” you chuckled.

“I promise it’ll be the last one you need to give me,” Matthew laughed, grasping the base of your neck.

In an attempt to blink away his own tears, a few streamed down his cheeks. Leaning forward, you kissed away the tears, leaving his cheeks wet, but Matthew had a dopey grin on his face all the same.

“I’m all in,” you replied to his question, and Matthew had to take a second to make sure he heard you correctly.

His grin spread wider, and he crashed his lips to yours, both of your smiles getting in the way but neither of you cared. Matthew peppered your face in kisses: your brow, your cheeks, your nose, your chin. There was not one inch of skin he left untouched.

You giggled in his arms, twisting your face to the side to avoid the tickling of his scruff against your cheeks, but he kept you close to his body.

“I love you,” he said finally, “and I’m sorry it took me so long to get my shit together.”

You caught his lips in a deep kiss. “All that matters is you’re here now.”

“Oh, I forgot something,” Matthew said, pulling back just enough to reach his hand into his pocket. 

A small box rested in the palm of his hand, and he opened it to show you the necklace he gifted to you nearly three years ago. When everything ended, you’d given it back to him, and he’d kept it tucked away in his bedside drawer since then.

The dainty ‘19’ hung from the chain, and Matthew undid the hook and looked at you with hopeful eyes. Your stomach did a flip as you turned around, and Matthew draped the jewelry around your neck, connecting it in the back and placing a soft kiss on the skin right above it.

“Now everything’s right where it belongs.”

[luvdsc]

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

[babiesdreams]

Nct reaction. You're playing with them and they accidentally hit you.

Dumb me OT23

Warnings: Mentions of an accidental hit (?

Context/ Situation: You were playing on the couch, tickling each other, trying your best to win the laughable battle, when he moves his arm unexpectly, hitting your face with his elbow. 

Taeyong 🌹 : He inmediately stops moving, he’s so in shock that he can barely think on what to do. “Oh my god Y/n I’m so sorry. Let me get some bandaids” He would be so soft from that moment on, trying his best to make it up to you, even if you’re completely aware it wasn’t his intention at all to do that.

Taeil 🌕 : When he feels his elbow hitting you, his expression changes radically. “Are you okay?” His voice is shaky as well as his hands that softly caress your skin, trying to brush the pain away. “I-I’m sorry” He apologizes a hundred times.

Johnny 🐱 : Inmediately turns to look at you, he examines your skin, looking for possible marks of bruises, when he doesn’t see any he relaxes a bit. His fingers caress your skin softly. “Did it hurt?” When you say you’re okay, he continues his actions, this time being more careful.

Yuta 🐙 : “Did I hit you?” He asks looking at you, when you nod, he gets worried, but he calms down as soon as he notices you’re fine. He apologizes making you your favorite dish for dinner. He checks on you every now and then to make sure you didn’t get any bruises. 

Kun 🐻 : He feels so guilty in his mind, that he doesn’t let himself get out of that terrible feeling. He thinks that he should be more careful around you. Hitting you is something that really makes him disappointed at himself, though he doesn’t let it shine through, he acts like he’s chill, and simply worried about you, but this thought are inside his head for a whole week. 

Doyoung 🐰 : His hand touches carefully the spot he hit. “Does it hurt?” You shake your head at his words, smiling at his worried words. “I’m sorry Y/n” He says kissing the spot softly. His kiss feels so soft that it couldn have taken away any sort of pain just like that. 

Ten 🐱 : “Oh my god, did I hit you?” He asks widening his eyes. You nod, faking a pout. “Does it hurt?” His words are painted with an unbelievable tone that makes you chuckle. He just knows your fake pouts way too well. “Okay, okay, let me make it heal” He says placing kisses everywhere. 

Jaehyun 🍑 : “Oh, did that hurt?” His voice sounds genuently worried, so you decide to not joke around and simply shake your head “It’s fine” You say smiling at him. “Oh come here” He starts tickling you again “I’m not letting you win just like that”

Winwin 🐥 : His expression completely breaks your heart, he looks so worried and sad about it that you can’t even joke for a second. “Hey, baby, I’m fine don’t worry” He starts pouting slightly and simply whispers “I didn’t mean to..” His tone sounds so broken that you are the one who has to comfort him “No, no baby, it’s fine really, it’s fine” You kiss him a hundred times, but he still feels disappointed at himself, in his head he was so childish sometimes that he even hurted you unintentionally... He’s just so mad at himself.

Jungwoo 🐶 : “Oops, did I hit you?” He looks at you, but he doesn’t even worry due to your casual expression. “Do you need anything?” He asks calmly. “Hug” You say extending your arms, making the boy giggle. “Alright alright. Hugs coming your way” His body falls on top of yours as his arms surround your body in a loeable hug.

Lucas 🦁 : His expression is now completely serious, there isn’t any hints of joke that can be read in his face. “Stay there” His voice sounds as serious as him, while his body disappears, getting to the kitchen. He reapears with a first-aid kit. “I’m fine” You protest. “Shhhh” He says, making you shut up. He puts a bandaid on the spot he hit, and placing a cute kiss on it. “Now you’re fine” 

*dead*

Mark 🐆 : “Oh dude, wait, did that hit you” You nod cutely and he panics “Dude, what? Oh I’m so sorry. Hold up” He stutters while getting up “Lemme just, um.. Should I get you something?” You reach his figure with your hand “I’m fine mark” You laugh at his cute confused nature.

Xiaojun 🦕 : “Oh baby, I’m sorry. It didn’t hurt right?” Youn nod at him, confirming it was painless. “Do you want something?” He asks gently. “Can you get me a glass of water?” You say cutely. “Okay, you just want to take advantage of me now. I’ll get it anyways” He says standing up. “Thanks babe” You shout at him as he disappears. “Whatever” He says in between laughs.

Hendery 🐴 : “Did I just hit you?!” He asks in shock, you nod and he remains silent for a while. “Okay, hit me, so that we’re equal” He says closing his eyes. “That’s the most stupid thing you’ve ever said Hendery” You say laughing. But the boy stays like that, waiting for your revenge. You place a kiss on his lips and say “You didn’t do it on purpose, why would I hit you on purpose?” 

Renjun 🦊 : “Oh, um are you okay?” His gently hands tap your head, making your thoughts go away for a moment. “Y/N” He says at you, and you come back to reality. “Huh?” He sighs, noticing you didn’t even hear him. “Did it hurt?” He simply asks, getting his hand off your head. “No” You say giggling. “But keep playing with my hair, I like it” Renjun chuckles. “You really are a lost cause” You’re completely unable to hear his words as his fingertips brush over your hair again.

Jeno 🐶 : “Uh, did that hit you?” He asks confused when you scratch over the spot he hit. “Yeah” You fake a sad tone as you look down with a pout drawn on your face. “I’m so sorry baby” He says kissing over the spot you were scratching. “Did that heal it?” You shake your head, wanting more kisses, and he continues placing kiss after kiss. “And that one? No? This one?” This goes on for way too long. 

Haechan 🐻 : “Omg, Uh, did that hurt?” His voice suddenly changes to an unusual serious tone. “I didn’t mean too. I should have been more careful” You shake your head and simply reply with a “I’m fine” which the boy takes as an instant reliever. “Could you get me something to eat tho?” You ask him cutely. “Hey, what am I a servant?” He asks you with a confused expression. “Uhh it’s starting to hurt all of the sudden” You say jockingly, touching your head. “Hey, Ah wow, you’re truly unbelievable” He says getting to the kitchen. “Thank you baby, you’re so good to me” You shout at him. “You’re killing me seriously” he says luaghing.

Jaemin 🐰 : “Oh is my baby okay?” He says caressing your cheek. You nod and let him baby you for a while, since you love when he does that. “Let me make it better” He says placing a kiss on your lips and repeating the action all over your face. “Now you’re gonna stay here and let me cook for you” You look at him smiling. “Jaemin I’m fine. “Shhh, let me take care of you okay?” 

Yangyang 🐑 : “Oh I’m sorry” He says laughing lightly. “Does it hurt? Do you need a bandaid or something?” You look at him cutely and nod. “Oh shit, what should I get you?” He asks panicking. “Cuddles”You say cutely. “Ahhhh, you scared me Y/n” He says hugging your figure. You both stay like that for hours until you fall asleep.

Shotaro 🦦 : “Oh sorry, sorry. Are you okay?” His cute voice always gets you. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s fine” He breathes normally again, releaved that you didn’t get hurt. “Do you wanna order some food. It’s on me tonight” You smile at him and nod. “I want pizza” You say looking into his phone screen as he opens the app. “Oh, pizza, yeah, sounds good” The boy says giggling.

Chenle 🐬 : His laughs suddenly stop, as he notices how his elbow hit your face. “Oh that might have hurt” He says softly. “It didn’t” You reply honestly. “But I’m so strong, It for sure hurted” He says worriedly. “It didn’t Chenle” You say looking right into his eyes. “You don’t need to act cute in front of me babe” He says jokingly. You roll your eyes back and start tickling him again. “It didn’t hurt” You scream at the giggling boy, who eventually gives up.

Sungchan 🦌 : “Were did I hit you?” You point at the slightly red spot. “Oh it’s red” He points out. “But I’m fine” You reply, not wanting him to worry. “It looks like it hurted” He says but you shake your head. “Maybe a little?” he asks again and you tilt your head. “Maybe” You say cutely and he chuckles, placing a kiss over the spot. “It will go away soon, my kisses are magical” The boy says at you. “Really?” You ask raising your brows. “100%. You’ll notice in a couple of minutes, how it goes away” His cute voice explains to you and you keep the cute joke on going. “Oh I feel better suddenly” He looks at you and prouly says “See? Told ya” 

Jisung 🐹 : “Y/n, did that hurt? Ughhh, evil elbow” He says at his elbow, looking down at it. “It didn’t hurt” You reassure him. “Are you sure? This evil elbow, always plays dirty..” He says cutely. “I’m sure babe” You say kissing his soft red lips, making his cheeks turn the same shade of red.

--------------------------------------------------------

Masterlist –requests open– How to request?  Check out your score.

[lsholland]

London Lights (pt. 1) - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (1st person)

Genre: Party!Tom

Warnings: swearing; alcohol; nothing much but I don’t recommend -18 to read.

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: Hey guys! That’s my first story on this blog. I hope you’ll like it. I’m not native so there may be a few mistakes. I’m trying a new genre of fiction. It’s my first Tom Holland fiction. It’ll be a series of 2-3 chapters. If you want to be part of the master list for Tom please like this post and message me. 

Synopsis: Quarantine has been tough. I’ve lost my boyfriend, and I’m feeling lonely. Clubs and restaurants are open again, but I feel like it’ll never be like it used to. My friends have been pushing me to install Tinder and go on dates. Well, tonight, I’m going on a date. I don’t really want to but I’m going to try and have fun for once. Just a few drinks and I’ll go home. What else could happen?

PS. You can read the story on Wattpad.

What am I doing here? I think to myself.

I matched with this guy on this famous dating app . . . And now I'm supposed to meet him here, at this bar. But I don't want to. I'm just hoping he won't show up so I can escape from this shit-place.

I've been seated at the table for a good 5 minutes. The waitress cleans up the table next to mine and asks if I'm ready to order.

No, I want to leave.

I quickly glance at the drinks menu.

"Ehm . . . A pour over Irish coffee, please."

She nods and leaves. I don't even know what I just ordered. I hope it tastes good. Hopefully it'll make me drunk enough not to remember this awful date.

It hasn't even started yet.

I'm sweating.

"Hey there" says a husky voice right behind me.

I turn around and see my date. His name is Jordan. He's good-looking and I bet he's intelligent, but I don't have this feeling with him. I don't know why I accepted to go on a date in the first place. It's awkward.

"Hey!" I grin.

"Have you ordered something already?" he asks, touching his short, clean beard. "I'm thirsty!"

He looks nice.

*

The waitress hands me my third drink. They help the clock tick a little faster.

He's been talking about his job, his passions. He loves football and practises daily. He has 2 sisters and lives in Camberwell.

Cute.

For a moment, I feel sad for him. He drove all the way to this East London bar, put effort trying to look nice and being cool . . . and yet, he doesn't know it but he has no chance to get lucky tonight. Not with me.

I shouldn't be sorry.

But I am.

I glance around looking for something that might be a little more entertaining than him. I realise I've avoided eye contact since he arrived. I finally glimpse at him. He has beautiful hazel eyes.

Still not enough.

I quickly check my phone. It's getting late. I don't know how to end this.

"Look," I slightly bend over the table. "I'm so sorry but I don't feel like it tonight"

"I noticed." He smirked. "Kinda awkward, innit?"

I chuckle. I am so embarrassed.

"It's okay, though." He added. "I'm just trying to meet new people. I broke up with my ex-girlfriend a few weeks ago. My mates told me I should try these apps."

Okay, now I feel worse than ever. He's been so nice with me and that's how I treat him. I grab my drink and gulp it down.

I shouldn't have done this.

"Let's go dance. I owe you one." I say as I grab his hand and walk towards the dancing area. It becomes difficult to keep my head straight.

I'm drunk, I must admit.

I'm going to regret it, my sober-self shouts in my head.

I don't care is what I reply.

The dancing area is not crowded, but there are already a few people. Most of them are girls.

Girls . . . I wish my friends were not so busy all the time. I would've come to this bar with them instead of wasting my time with strangers.

I start dancing. I stare at him. He looks amused.

A group of guys join the dancefloor and all the girls on my right start screaming. It's so high pitched I cringe.

"What the fuck guys?" I shout, trying to focus on the music.

"Woah, that's Spider-Man!" says my date. He grabs my chin and makes me look in his direction.

No way, I think. It's actually him.

I know he lives in the area, but I've never met him before. It's always weird to see movie stars in real life. They look so much more attractive.

He is so much more attractive.

I try not to be a drunk fangirl and shyly wave to him. He doesn't notice.

"You wanna go and take a picture with him?" my date asks.

"Oh, no, no!" I answer. I'm blushing. "I don't even know what I'd tell him."

He laughs.

The worst thing that could happen is to annoy him during a night out. He needs privacy and I must respect it.

But it's so difficult.

I can't stop staring at him. I don't even control it. Being drunk doesn't help.

"D'you want a beer?" I ask my date whose name I completely forgot.

He nods.

I weave my way through the crowd. I can't believe there are so many people on the dancefloor. The area is so busy since the Spider-Man actor walked in.

Even the bar area is crowded.

I let my body rest against a barstool but quickly lose balance and almost fall on the dirty floor. The flickering lights are making me feel dizzy. I grip the counter and get up. I peer around to make sure nobody saw me.

He did.

I dust off my dress trying to save the dignity I have left.

"Want something?" someone asks behind me. I turn around, it's the barman.

"Two pints of Guinness, please."

I glance back at the same spot, but he's gone. It must've been a dream. I'm so drunk I can't trust everything I think I see.

I'm grabbing both my drinks and look around trying to find my date, but there are too many people. I take a sip of my beer and hold the other one above my head.

Someone hits my arm.

Oh no.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry!" yells the drunk blond girl.

I look at my dress. It's soaking wet. I politely smile at her. "It's okay," I mouth.

What a mess. I glance at the lavatory door. I need to go and save my dress.

"You haven't been lucky here."

I turn around to find out who's talking to me.

It's him. Tom Holland. Talking to me.

"What?" is all I manage to say.

"Do you need a hand?" he politely asks.

I blush so much it's noticeable in the dark.

I'm choking. I'm panicking.

I give him my two beers and walk towards the lavatory. I'm surely starstruck. And drunk. This isn't a good mix.

Once in the room, I grab a handful of tissues and try to soak up my dress. I groan. Did I expect to make that beer mark disappear? Yes. Did it work? Of course not.

I watch my face in the mirror.

I look like shit, I think.

A door slams shut. Two young girls just walked in.

"OH, MY G—THAT'S TOM HOLLAND!" shouts one. They are both panting.

I roll my eyes.

Oh . . . I've given him my beers. What about my date?

"Shit!" I hiss.

I violently open the door and frown my eyebrows as the lights blind me.

He's just here gazing at me. Two beers in his hands. One of them is half empty, the rest being displayed on my dress.

"I'm so sorry!" I say embarrassed as ever.

He smirks. "No worries." He hands me the full glass of beer.

I give him a questioning look as I grab it. What about the other one? Oh, right—He's drinking it.

"What's your na—"

I stop him.

"I know who you are." I peer down. "I'm sorry I didn't wanna disturb you" I say as I'm walking away.

This time I'm smart enough to avoid the crowd on my way out.

"That's rude to leave without saying goodbye!" Tom shouts from a distance.

I turn around and stare at him. He's got a soft smile; he doesn't look drunk at all. I wave him goodbye.

Now, he's approaching me.

"I meant to your boyfriend" he nods in the direction of my date who was dancing with a group of other people.

"He's not my—" is all I can say before he chuckles.

"I figured."

"How?" I clench my jaw. I'm hypnotised by his hand running through his hair. And his smile. And his lips.

"I can barely hear you," he points at a booth in the corner of the room "maybe we could sit there" he suggests.

My mouth softens into a smile.

It's difficult to walk with Tom Holland. Every couple of seconds he's stopped by fans requesting a picture. And he accepts every time.

I'd never be so patient.

"What's that?" he asks.

"It must be so annoying sometimes." I tell him as I sit on the booth.

"When they're nice and ask me, it's cool." He chooses to sit next to me. I can feel his arm touching mine. My heart is racing. He uses his other arm to hold his chin; he looks at me with so much intensity. Sometimes peering down my lips.

His face is so close, but he keeps talking. I can feel his breath on my skin. I'm going to burst into flames. "But when they're taking pictures without asking first, that's delicate."

I nod. I can't really listen to what he's talking about. I'm trying not to lose control.

"So, what's your name?"

He smiles when I tell him. "Why did you leave your date alone?" he asks.

I'm so nervous I stutter. I can't find my words. "I . . . I wasn't in the mood. He knows it. I shouldn't have come here."

"I'm happy you came." He says looking me in the eyes.

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you flirting with me?"

He barks out a laugh and breaks the eye contact. He rests his head on the wall behind us.

He isn't as confident as I thought he'd be. I don't know what's up with him, but I enjoy it.

I suddenly remember he's a movie star. He's always being watched. I glance at the crowd and see flashing lights. They're taking pictures of us.

I'm getting dizzier.

I don't want to see my face on a dumb article talking about Tom Holland's mysterious partner. I don't even know him.

"This is stupid" I mumble.

Tom is intrigued. He hasn't got a clue what I'm talking about. He hasn't even noticed the fans stalking him.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go" I abruptly say as I stand up. "Have a good night."

I grab my phone and leave the venue. I'm upset because I really wish I could've met him in a different context. I open my Uber app: there's no driver available.

Shit.

How's that even possible on a Friday night? In London?

I refresh the app, but it doesn't work. I guess I'll have to walk home.

A part of me wants to go back in this bar and spend time with Tom. He's sweet and I'm sure we would've had so much fun together. I glance through the window trying to see his face one last time, but I can't find him.

"What are you looking for?"

I cringe.

"Oh, sorry I didn't mean to startle you."

It's him. It's Tom.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Going home too. The fun of the party is leaving . . ." he sighs. I smile back at him. I'm embarrassed.

I stand in front of him, none of us say a word. It's awkward. I'm getting anxious and walk away. I'm so overwhelmed.

He grabs my shoulder. "Wait, are you walking home?"

"Yeah, it's okay don't worry." I smile.

"I can drive you home."

"Sorry, but you've been drinking. I won't let you drive me." I curtly say.

He grins. He looks at one of his mates and nods.

"No way I'm letting you walk home alone," he sighs "besides, you're drunk."

"Come with me then" I instantly reply without thinking.

He nods.

What?

He's coming with me. My heart is racing. I won't survive a 30-minute drunk walk with him.

Not with his beautiful glossy eyes staring at me.

Not with my burning desire to kiss him.

[jeonsjiddies]

everything i wanted | ksj (m)

⏤  Pairing: Seokjin x reader ⏤  Genre: smut, fluff ⏤  Word Count: ~2k ⏤  Warnings: oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, breast play?

⏤  Summary: Your boyfriend, Seokjin, comforts you and reminds you that you are, and will always be, enough. 

Sitting on the couch in the center of your living room, a thick duvet wrapped around your body, mindless chatter on the TV, and tears slowly streaming down your cheeks, that was how Seokjin found you when he came home. You hadn’t even noticed the quiet click of the lock when he’d opened and shut the door or the rustle of his jacket as he removed it and hung it on the rack. You were too lost in your own little world, too consumed by your emotions to pay attention to your surroundings.

“Baby?” Seokjin had asked cautiously after you hadn’t greeted him.

You jumped slightly, turning to look at your boyfriend, attempting to swipe the tears from your face in an effort to hide the fact that you were crying, but he knew. Seokjin always knew. He could read you like an open book, and most days you were thankful for that, but today you wanted to hide in your blanket burrito and be invisible. 

“Oh, hey, is it that late already? Sorry I haven’t started dinner-” you began with a nervous chuckle but Seokjin shook his head, sitting beside you and rubbing your back soothingly.

“Don’t fret over that, my love. I can cook, or we can order, it doesn’t matter. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, I just think I need a nap,” you lied, kissing his cheek and disappearing into your bedroom.

Jin watched you go, wanting to give you your space and not smother you, but he knew how you were, how you shut yourself off and hid away when you needed someone the most. He sighed, standing up and tidying up a few things around the house, periodically looking towards your closed bedroom door, trying to ignore the way his heart tugged with the need to comfort you.

About a half an hour went by and Jin had cleaned up the apartment, making sure there wasn’t anything you had to do later so you could relax before he tentatively made his way to the bedroom, knocking quietly before letting himself in, silently slotting himself between you and the wall, gently running his fingertips up and down your arm.

“I know you came here to be alone, but I’m not going to let you feel alone. If you want space, that’s fine, I’ll respect that. But I don’t want you to think that I’m not here for you. I love you. If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

You sighed, gulping loudly in a futile attempt to swallow down the tears that were building with Seokjin’s soft gaze landing on you, his gentle touches on your back, his comforting scent. You turned to face him and Jin guided your body to lean into his chest and you melted into his embrace for a moment, your bottom lip trembling before you hid your face in his shirt, your entire body quaking as your tears sprung free once more.

“I’m just so tired, Jinnie…” you sighed, barely audible as you mumbled into the crumpled fabric of his shirt, “I hate my job so much, my boss is such a misogynistic asshole.”

“Why don’t you try to find something else?” 

“I have been, but I’m not getting anywhere. The job market is terrible right now, or maybe I really am just a dumb little girl,” you sighed, quoting one of the many things your boss had screamed in your face earlier in the day. 

“Oh baby, you know that’s not true,” Jin soothed.

“Then why won’t anyone else hire me? Why does my boss hate me so much?”

“Your boss is just a jerk, and like you said, the job market isn’t great right now,” Seokjin said softly, lifting you from his chest to look into your eyes, making sure his next words sunk in, “there is nothing wrong with you. You are just as smart and capable as any male in that office, probably more so.”

“It really feels like there’s something wrong with me when my boss and all his little brown nosers keep putting me down. It just hurts, Jinnie.”

“As long as I’m here no one can hurt you. If I could change the way that you see yourself, you wouldn’t wonder why dear they don’t deserve you.”

“Thank you, Jin. I love you. I’m sorry I’m such a mess lately,” you sighed into his chest.

“You’re not a mess, you’re a human. I love you too. How about we order something from that new pizza place you like?”

"Mmm.. I think I'll keep you," you grinned, snuggling closer to his comforting scent.

“I certainly hope so, ‘cause it’s going to be hard to get rid of me now,” he chuckled, ordering your usual on the app while stroking your hair out of your face with his free hand.

You chuckled, letting his soothing motions calm your frazzled nerves until the pizza came, and Jin went to go get it, bringing it back to your bed and the two of you sitting up, your head on his shoulder as you ate and joked around, smearing pizza sauce across his cheek then leaning in to lick it off, causing Seokjin to fake-gag.

After you’d both eaten and you’d calmed down, wrapped up in the blankets with Seokjin absentmindedly running his fingers up and down your arm, you glanced up at him, your heart expanding as you watched his slow, deep breaths, his eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks, and listened to the soft melody he was humming. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m glad you’re mine,” you whispered into the crook of his neck. 

“Oh baby girl, you deserve the world and more. I’m so glad you’re mine too.” 

You smiled shyly, biting your lip and Seokjin raised an eyebrow at you questioningly. You looked away quickly, sitting up and wiggling out of his grasp to climb on top of him, straddling his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. His brows quirked in interest as his hands instinctively found purchase on your hips. 

“How about I show you just how much I appreciate you?” you purred playfully, one hand reaching up to run your fingers through his hair and gently nudge his head back to give you more room to kiss on his thick, delicious neck. 

“Mmm.. I like the sound of that.”

You smirked against his neck, sliding your hands underneath his shirt and lifting yourself to fling it off of him, then continued to kiss down his golden chest, your tongue circling his sensitive nipples on your journey, causing a soft hiss to escape from his plump lips. Each new patch of skin you got your mouth on was decorated with your red and purple marks of appreciation, Seokjin making delicious, desperate noises below you the closer you got to his ever-hardening length. 

You unbuckled his belt, shooting a seductive glance up at your boyfriend who already looked fucked out. You smiled to yourself before flicking the belt open and ridding your boyfriend of any more fabric that would deny you access to pleasing him. 

You ran your tongue teasingly up the underside of his shaft before wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock, earning a pained groan when you sunk down, taking him as far as you could until his tip hit the back of your throat. 

“Fuck baby. I’m not gonna last if you do that,” he warned breathlessly. 

You hummed against his cock, the vibrations making his hips buck slightly, but that didn’t stop you, you kept bobbing your head up and down and using your hands to massage what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Ugh you look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock, you know that? Shit-“

You watched eagerly, drinking in the sight of Seokjin losing himself from your ministrations, head thrown back in pleasure, a sheen of sweat coating his golden skin, making him shine under the bedroom lights. He glanced down and met your eyes, his hand reaching down to hold yours, fingers interlocking. 

You squeezed his hand, gazing up into his eyes, and he watched you with love swimming in his, until his abdomen clenched and he croaked out a needy “close,” to which you hummed in response, sending Seokjin off the edge, his warm seed spilling down your throat. You drank it up and swallowed all of it, licking your lips seductively once you lifted your head, his member leaving your lips with an audible pop. 

Seokjin laid there, breathing ragged, and made a grabbing motion for you, pulling you into his chest and kissing all over your face affectionately. 

“You get better at that every time.”

You giggled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and absentmindedly grinding your hips against his for a little bit of friction, having grown wet at the sound of your boyfriend falling apart for you. 

“Mmm.. is my baby feeling needy?” he teased, his long fingers dancing down your stomach. 

“Can you blame me? You look so fucking hot when you cum.”

“Mmmm.. so are you. I’d love to see it now,” he grinned deviously before climbing over you, slotting his body between your parted thighs, his already semi-hard cock pressing against your mound.

“Ready for round two already?” You raised an eyebrow with a smirk, to which Seokjin just shrugged. 

“I can’t seem to get enough of you.” 

He rolled his hips into yours, emphasizing his statement with proof of his steadily-hardening length against your skin before capturing your lips in a heated kiss, one hand snaking up your side to knead at your breast, gently twisting and pulling them before reaching for the hem of your shirt, tugging it off your body and you exposing your breasts to the cool air. Your nipples hardened even more and Seokjin wrapped his thick lips around them, sucking and rubbing his tongue over the sensitive nubs. 

“Mmm.. Jinnie just like that,” you encouraged breathlessly, “always so good with your mouth.”

“Oh baby what I wouldn’t give to show you what my mouth could do to you, but I really want to make love to you right now. Rain check?”

“Of course, we have forever baby.”

Jin smiled down at you like you hung the stars in the sky( leaving a gentle peck on your nose before tugging your bottoms off along with your panties, tossing them aside and slipping one long finger through your folds.

“You’re dropping. You think you’re ready?”

“Always ready for you, Mr. Kim.” 

Your boyfriend smirked at the name, one eyebrow raising in interest. You blew him a kiss and he rolled his eyes playfully before lining his member up with your pussy, slowly pushing in until he was buried to the hilt inside your right, wet heat. 

“How do you still feel so tight every time?”

“How do you still feel so damn big every time?”

He just smirked at you, pressing a soft kiss to your swollen lips as he began to move his hips, slowly thrusting in and out of you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging gently to ground yourself and Jin began to speed up the movement of his hips, his soft slow thrusts turning faster, harder, more desperate. He leaned down to nibble on your ear, allowing his hot breath to ghost across it as he whispered.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, so so much.” 

It didn’t take long for you to reach your impending high, not with Seokjin knowing your body like the back of his hand, his expert thrusts and kisses and wandering hands bringing you to the edge of bliss in no time. 

“I’m gonna-“ you croaked out, but didn’t get the chance to finish.

One harsh thrust from Seokjin paired with the enthusiastic sucking of your nipple sent you over the edge, your orgasm nearly consuming you. Seokjin worked you through your high, and soon after came himself, his warm seed filling your bettered hole.

You both watched in fascination when he pulled out, the thick cum leaking out of your pussy and onto your thighs. Jin quickly grabbed a damp washcloth and cleaned you up, gently rubbing the cloth through your folds to wipe away the mess he’d made from your delicate skin before tossing it in the hamper and climbing into bed beside you.

Snuggled up to your boyfriends naked, slightly sweaty body, you felt more at peace than you had in ages. You were satiated in every way possible and you knew the only person who could fill you up in every sense of the word was Seokjin. 

“I love you, Jin. Thank you for always being there. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

“I love you too, baby.”

[lustbile-archive]

Come Here Often?

MarkxReader

Word Count: 4K

Summary/Warnings: usual for the series. Smut, public sex, sharp objects and blood play. Also rip sorry for the dumb title I thought it was funny

APART OF THE CLUB X SERIES  (recommend reading other works)

“So which dating app did you meet this guy on?” you teased your friend as you stumbled out of the back of the taxi, the last of your friends to exit.

The friend in question grabs onto your forearm, helping you get steady on your feet making sure you don’t fall regardless of the way your words makes her face warm in her shyness, “Bumble. So if it makes me seem any better I did make the first move.”

You pull your arm out of her hold to wrap it around her waist, nuzzling at her neck as the rest of the group laughs at your conversation and begins walking to the entrance of the club. You two follow slowly behind, cuddling and tripping over each other as you walk, “nothing bad about finding him from an app, i’m just teasing because I love you.”

“I know, I love you too,” she lovingly pets at the top of your head as you get closer to the entrance. The person leading the group almost steps through the door, before someone interrupts, quieting the group.

“Wait, don’t we have to show our ID’s?” they ask, warily eyeing two men that stand by the door. Their all black clothing and the way they carry themselves telling you they are the bouncers of the club, but when you lock eyes with the shorter of the two, his eyes look hollow and disinterested as he shakes his head.

“Nah,” you shake your head as you playfully curl into your friend, unable to move your eyes from the men, “I don’t think they really give a fuck about what we do.”

Your words only earn satisfied hums and giggles from your group, and a slightly amused shake of the head from the men, before you crowd the entrance, pushing against one another to get in.

The loud music rattles against you as you continue to cling to your friend, the dark red lighting forcing you to stop and let your eyes adjust to the room. The atmosphere of the room makes your breathing deepens and slows as it feels like there’s something that lingers in the air and slows down your mind with every breath you take. It feels like you’re cemented in the same spot, staring blankly into the crowd of writhing bodies, before your friend’s voice and the way she tugs on your arm breaks you away from your daze.

“C’mon,” a few more tugs and your feet pick up again, and you're following behind her as she moves through the club like she’s been here a million times, “he texted and said they had one of the big booths towards the back.”

You can only dumbly nod as you follow closely behind, some of the other people in your group also following while the others break off in search of drinks.

It’s as if your body had gone numb when you walked in, as you barely register the way that the sweaty bodies of strangers bump and knock into you. You’re only brought back to reality momentarily when a man wearing a decorated mask interrupts your path. He only nods in a quick apology when he sees you jump, but continues walking as if he’s trying to catch up with something.

“Come on, don’t be so slow,” your friend finally resorts to wrapping her arm around your waist and all but dragging you in the direction she wants, as you move it feels like the room is passing you at a hundred miles a minute, “I think I can see the booth.”

She thought correctly, as it's only seconds before you’re approaching a booth in the shape of a semicircle, one half of it being occupied by a group of men.

You’d be lying if you said they weren’t all attractive. All in their own different ways as they look up and smile at your approaching group, but when you meet eyes with the boy at the center you’re hit with a concerning feeling of recognition. The way he smiles doesn’t fully reach his eyes, this and his slim face and dark hair makes it feel like your brain short circuits.

You don’t have time to process the feelings seeing this man makes you feel, nor break the eye contact he’s forced you into, before your friend is shoving you into the booth to sit directly next to him as she babbles apologies for keeping the boys waiting.

You can tell which of the boys she was meant to be meeting, as when you start to settle into the seating, he eyes her in admiration from his spot in the middle of his friends and he reassures her that the wait was no problem. He seems enraptured with her regardless of her frazzled energy as she sits you and your other friends as if you were rowdy children, the infatuation he radiates for her warms your heart so much you almost don’t notice how close your seated to the boy that still continues to stare at you.

You’re smiling at their interactions, when you feel something touch your arm, making you jump. An amused chuckle comes from beside you as you look over to the man, the tips of his fingers still brushing the skin of your forearm. The dark around his eyes makes them seem sharper than they we’re probably naturally, and the taunting smile he wears makes you want to lean away, but there’s an aura that dances around him that makes it impossible to look away and you even find yourself leaning closer when he speaks.

“I’m Mark,” he offers as he smiles at you, the surrounding noise of the club almost muffling as he speaks. His hand moves from your arm as he reaches to rest his arm on the seat behind your head, and you offer your name in return. He repeats your name back at you slowly and moves a few inches closer, the low rasp in his voice when he speaks makes a shiver run up your spine and your body starts to warm.

Your eyes are unmoving from his face as he glances at the other people that sit around you, and you feel your eyebrows thread together at the oddly determined look he wears.

“You don’t seem like the type that would be brought here,” he says when his eyes return to you. You smile softly, slightly confused as when he says it, all he knows so far is your name so how would he know anything about your “type?” But the way he smiles and forms his words, it doesn’t seem like he means it in the way that it sounds.

“Well this is where your friend wanted to meet mine, and since he was bringing his friends, she wanted to bring hers,” you ramble from the way speaking to him makes you nervous, you shrug quickly before continuing, “you make it sound like you come here often, so what type of people usually come in here?”

“Ah yeah,” he nods, reaching to pick up his glass from the table, taking a drink as his arm slips from the seat to rest on your shoulders, “sometimes it feels like I can never leave this place honestly, but with all the people I’ve seen, none of them have been as gorgeous as you.”

Any other man, and those words would have made your skin crawl as you tried to find an excuse to leave, but when his eyes lock onto yours as he speaks, it feels like leaving was never an option and you feel yourself leaning into his hold.

Your mouth opens slightly, but before you can respond you feel your friend grab at your knee to get your attention. She seems just as dazed as you when you turn to look at her, and you exchange dopey smiles. You ignore the way her eyebrows wiggle at the way Mark holds you, and instead let out a questioning ‘hm?’

“We’re going to get drinks,” she says as her and the rest of your friends go to stand from the booth, the group of boys following suit, “you two wanna come with?”

The way his fingers softly dig into the flesh of your arm locks you in place. His hold on you isn’t strong enough that you couldn’t get up if you had wanted, but the way it makes your chest tighten makes it feel like his grip was made of steel.

“Ah no,” you smile, shifting closer to the boy as you shake your head, “I think I’m gonna stay back and get to know Mark better.”

She grins at your words, clearly thrilled that you’ve found someone to talk to so quickly. She nods to the rest of the group and they start to move towards the bar, your head tilting in confusion when the last boy to stand looks at you confused at the last words you spoke.

Your confusion is short-lived, when Mark squeezes at your arm to bring your focus back to him, “well i guess we’re alone now,” the suggestive tone he adopts warms your skin and the pit of your stomach.

“Seems like it,” you nod as you're filled with nerves mixed with a weird sense of calm. Something about the way he smiles and speaks to you makes your mind swim and your stomach turn. With a small dose of shame you admit to yourself that, if he were to ask, you would go home with him right then.

“What made you want to hang back with me?” his head jerks back slightly when he asks, the gesture making you grin at how endearing his mannerisms are.

“I don’t know,” your tone is far more flirty than you had intended as you answer honestly, but he only looks amused as he moves his hand from your shoulder to cup the back of your neck.

“Hm… you will eventually,” he murmurs in a way that suggests he was speaking to himself as he ignores the confused look that returns to your face, “so you just came for your friend huh?”

“Um.. hm yeah,” you stutter and nod as his fingers start to pet at the skin protecting your jugular, making you squirm slightly in your seat, “she gets nervous meeting new people so we wanted to make it a group thing to make her more comfortable.”

“But is that the only reason?” you feel your body flinch back at the nonsensical question, but his hold keeps you in place, “I think you’re also here for yourself.”

“Is that so?” you asked, amused at his assumption. Admittedly, you had been stressed lately with all that was happening in your life but it was odd that he would just guess that.

“Yeah,” he nods as he moves his face closer to yours, “I think you need some stress relief, and lucky for you I'm really talented at relieving stress.”

“Are you now? And how would you do that Mark?”

“Well,” he starts, repeating your name in the same inflection that you spoke his, “I can help in any way that you’re willing to let me.”

His hand lands high on your bare thigh once he finishes speaking, the gleam that dances in his eyes is dangerous and feeds the excitement that builds in your chest. If you were willing to let him take you home earlier, the way that he looks at you makes you even more willing now.

“If you think it will help,” you tease as you start to drag a finger down his chest, “I’d say you can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” he asks rhetorically as if he knew that would be your answer.

“Yeah you’ll just have to drive cause we took a taxi,” your nail catches on the collar of his shirt, ready to drag him up from his seat.

“Nah,” his hand moves to hook at the back of your thigh, pulling you from the leather of the booth to straddle his lap. You can’t help but let out a surprised yelp when your skirt shifts up, allowing you to feel his bulge pressing into the fabric of your underwear, “I think I can get what I want done right here.”

“You want to mess around in the middle of this club?” your fingers tangle in the fabric of his shirt to help balance yourself. The cocky smile he wears on his face at your shocked expression makes your stomach flip. Why didn’t this sound like a bad idea?

“Yeah I don’t see why not,” he shrugs, his fingers dance up the skin of your thighs until they slip under the fabric of your skirt to grab at the flesh of your ass.

“Really? You don’t?” you say sarcastically while leaning back to get a better look at his face, “don’t see why messing around with someone you just met in the middle of a crowded club where anyone can see might be a bad idea?”

Regardless of your words, you allow him to start moving your hips to drag you against his crotch, little sparks of pleasure making your shoulders relax and your head tilt back.

“You might think its a bad idea,” he speaks slowly, one hand moving from your hips to wrap around your throat as his hips start thrusting up to meet yours, “but your body doesn’t.”

“Shut up,” you groan as the grip he has on the sides of your neck cuts off the blood flow to your head, making you dizzy. You could feel yourself cracking, your comment of letting him do whatever he wanted only becoming more true, “if anyone sees us, especially our friends, I will kick your ass.”

“Trust me when I say, no ones going to see us,” the intensity in his eyes when he says this makes it feel like he really does have control over everything in the room. He most definitely has control over every inch of you when, after you gently nod with a pout forming on your lips, he pulls you down by your neck to press his lips against yours.

His tongue is warm in your mouth, his saliva mixing with yours and making you feel like you could get drunk on just his lips. You release the fabric of his shirt to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to your chest, when you get this sudden need to be as closely pressed against him as possible. Your hips begin to desperately grind on him at a faster pace, this and the way you start to quietly whimper into his mouth makes his chest shake slightly as he laughs.

“How wet are you right now?” he breaks away to ask, only leaving centimeters between your mouths.

“Wet enough,” you speak without thinking, but it was the truth. You could feel your thin underwear sticking to your core, his lips and hands and every inch of him getting you aroused faster than you’ve ever been before.

“Good,” his hand falls from your neck, squeezing between your bodies to undo the button and zipper of his pants. As he works, your lips press harshly back against his and you feel him groan roughly into your mouth when he reaches inside his underwear to pull himself out.

You can’t help the happy sigh you let out when you feel his fist brush the inside of your thighs as he tugs on himself a few times. The idea of him touching himself to get ready to fuck you makes excitement build in your body and you begin to bounce slightly on top of him.

“So impatient,” he breaks away from your mouth again, his hand that isn’t wrapped around himself moving to flip up your skirt and move your underwear to the side. The feeling of the stuffy club air hitting your newly exposed skin makes you pant and clench at the possibility of being seen, “but I don’t know if we have a lot of time, so I don’t think I'll get the pleasure of teasing you too much.”

“Mark please,” you plead, pressing your mouth against the skin under his jaw before digging your teeth into the sensitive skin. The pain that shoots through his neck from your mouth, makes his hips stutter against his hand and his dampened tip nudges against your clit.

He must enjoy the way you jump at the contact, as he starts dragging his tips from your entrance and back up to your clit over and over, quiet grunts falling from his lips.

“Feel a lot more than just wet enough sweetheart,” he teases, pressing less than an inch inside you before going back to teasing your skin.

“Fuck Mark,” you curl around him trying to sink down every time he pushes into you, “please just fuck me already.”

He seems fed up with his own teasing, as after your final complaint, he finally pushes fully inside you. The feeling of him stretching you so suddenly has you moaning loudly as you forget where you are. His hands pull you tightly against his chest as you flutter around him in an attempt at getting adjusted to his sudden intrusion. The warmth of his hands petting your skin making you melt calmly in his hold.

You start to slowly move in his lap, making him drag against the nerves deep inside you. You’re unable to move too much from the tight hold he has on you, but the way the fabric of his shirt rubs against your clit and his breath puffs warm against your neck makes you crumble in his hold.

The air is knocked from your lungs, when he starts to cant his hips up to meet your movements, shoving him deeper than you thought he could go. His name is the only coherent word that slips past your lips as your nails dig into the leather of the seat behind him.

“Look at you,” his fingers squeezing your skin in a way that you know you’ll have bruises from him the next day, “taking me so well aren’t you? I knew you would.”

You keen at his praise, your hips moving quicker in response. The pleasure that builds in the pit of your stomach is enough to distract you from one of his hands moving away from your hips, enough to distract you from the sound of breaking glass behind you, but not enough to distract from the stinging pain that bites into the skin of your collar bone.

He doesn’t let up on the way he thrusts into you, or the way he sweetly coos at you as squirm in pleasure and pain. The same moment he discards the jagged glass and returns his hand to your skin, he latches his mouth to the deep cut he left behind in your skin, his tongue lapping at the blood that spills from it.

You knew that if your mind wasn’t fuzzy with arousal and you weren’t teetering on the edge of your orgasm, you would have freaked out. Something about the man below you skews your judgment, making you willing to fold in any way he’d ask.

He doesn’t move an inch from the wound he created as he starts to rub quick circles onto your clit, the sudden friction has you hurtling faster into your finish. It’s when he starts sucking harshly, bruising the skin around the cut, that you start to come around him.

He doesn’t slow his thrusts in any way, making you feel like you’re being pulled apart at every seam. You can feel moans and whines of pleasure flowing from you, but the static that fills your ears muffles the sound.

Tears begin to roll down your face, as he pushes you away to sit up straight. The air hitting the cut stings enough on its own, but it stings even more when the fingers, that only moments before were abusing your clit, brush against it to collect your blood that continues to spill out.

“There you go,” he says darkly, as he shoves his bloodied fingers deep in your mouth. He’s stopped thrusting as he holds you tightly against him to grind with him pressed fully inside you, “make me come baby.”

Your tongue rolls against his fingers, the taste of your blood mixed with the evidence of your orgasm that was left behind makes your heart pound as you grind faster against him. The way his head tilts back against the seat behind him as he watches you move makes you feel like you’re being hunted.

The second his lip tucks between his teeth is the only indication you need to know that he’s started to come, a pathetic whimper muffles around his fingers when you feel him come deep and warm inside you. You clench harshly around him in hopes to prolong his pleasure, a groan deep from his belly a prize you receive in return.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them to your lips for a second. The now free hand moves to join the other on your hips, slowing your grinding until you’re sat still on his lap.

His warm hands knead the wound up muscles of your thighs as you even your breathing, a dopey smile pulling on your lips as he smiles proudly up at you. You can help yourself as you reach out to run your fingers across the skin of his cheek bone as you stare at him in awe. A weird feeling suddenly fills you as you look down at him, a warmth flooding your chest.

He lifts you from his lap, placing you gently back onto your seat and adjusting your clothes back to the right places. He adjusts himself back into his pants, before he turns back to you.

“Your friends are coming back soon,” the sureness of his words twists at you in a weird way, “I have to get going.”

You sit up straight, your hands latching back onto the fabric of his shirt in panic, “I mean I know I said I didn’t want to get caught, but I don’t want you to leave either.”

“Next time you come here, you’ll be by yourself,” he shifts to move away from the booth, his fingers prying yours from his shirt and holding your hands reassuringly, “and you’ll find me pretty easy.”

Words escape your mind as he lets go of your hands and moves away from the booth, the smile he throws over his shoulder making you shiver and sigh.

You’re sinking into the leather as you watch him disappear into the crowd, when your friends come skipping back, the boys following close behind with their drinks held tightly in their hands.

You immediately lighten up as your friend slips into the booth beside you, a warm smile on her face as everyone else sits as well. Her bubbly mood is dampened slightly when she realizes you’re now seated by yourself.

“Where’s um… the guy,” she turns to the boy she came here to meet to ask, “your friend, what was his name?”

The boy who had thrown you a confused look earlier, adopts the look once again as he butts in to answer, “that guy wasn’t our friend.”

You and your friends let out matching sounds of confusion before you speak, “what do you mean he wasn’t your friend?”

“Yeah no,” he shakes his head as he sips his drink, “said he was friends with you guys but took a separate car and got here before you.”

You turn to look at your friend with a concerned look pulling on your features, but the smile she wears fogs your brain, “this club is kind of weird right?” she asks, a dazed laugh following the words.

“Yeah weird,” something about the words feels like cotton in your mouth. You reach for the glass she placed in front of you, hoping that just a sip of alcohol will help with the mixing emotions in your chest when she starts to poke at the skin of your chest.

“Hey, when did you get that scar on your collar bone?”

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Lazy Sundays | Ethan Nestor

Requested? Nah 

Warnings? Nope 

Summary: You waste your Sunday's away with the love of your life Ethan Nestor 

Word Count: 1,597

“Okay, plans for the day?” Ethan asks rolling over to face you in bed. 

It was a Sunday, the two of you had spent all morning laying in bed bodies intertwined, kisses pressed to each other’s lips back and forth over and over, and snoozing in and out. You would have been content staying like this all day but you had school work and Ethan had to record at least a video or two. 

“Stay like this?” you joke anyway and he smiles widely down at you. 

He’s propped up on one elbow, leaning over you slightly as you stare into his glowing green eyes. You smile lazily at him as he leans down and presses a slow kiss to your lips which you happily returned. 

You break apart and Ethan sits up causing you to whine. He turns back towards you, giggling at the pout on your face before reaching a hand out towards you. You take his hand and he pulls you up and the two of you finally get out of bed. 

Together you head downstairs and head straight towards the kitchen to make an extremely late breakfast. As you start to make pancakes, Ethan grabs things for eggs and bacon and you work side by side. The work is silent but you love every second of being hip to hip with the boy you love. 

“How much homework do you have?” Ethan asks as you settle into seats next to each other at the small dining table. 

“An essay, some notes, math homework, maybe more?” you question trying to run over the list of things in your head. 

“Disgusting,” he jokes making you laugh. “I might record some videos and stream later.” 

After you two finish up breakfast, you clean up the kitchen quickly before getting dressed and going your somewhat separate ways. Ethan heads to the makeshift recording room in his apartment and you head to the living room.

You set up your school stuff around you, your laptop in front of you and papers spread out around. You get to work, flipping through the book you’re using for your essay and typing quickly as your ideas flow. Before you know it, your essay is finished and you’re editing it. 

Just as you’re flipping over to your math homework, you hear Ethan yelling in the recording room and you end up laughing loudly at the outburst. You wait a second to see if it’ll continue and when he yells out again you’re giggling all over again. 

You grab your phone and open Snapchat and hit record while creeping towards Ethan’s recording room. You wait a second by the door, and for a moment you think he’s not going to scream again. However, just as you’re about to give up Ethan lets out another loud scream and you’re left cackling quietly on the floor hoping he doesn’t hear you. 

After posting that video to your main story, you head back over to the couch and grab your math homework to start on. You’re in the middle of the first problem when you hear the door to the recording room open. You look up and Ethan stands there with a half-angry look on his face. 

“Darling?” you ask uncertainly. 

“Did you post me screaming on your snap story?” he asks and the smile you had on your face falls. 

“Yeah, why? Do you want me to take it down?” 

Ethan doesn’t say anything and for a minute you get scared, thinking he’s mad about you posting him. The two of you had decided a while back when you had these lazy days you would mostly stay off of social media but your Snapchat never seemed to be a problem considering it was mostly close friends on there. 

“Nah I just thought I sounded dumb,” he says and you sigh in relief. 

“Ethan!” you exclaim throwing a pen in his direction which he dodges with ease and laughs loudly at your attempt. 

“I thought you were mad,” you pout as he walks over to you. 

By this point, he’s standing behind the couch and leans down to press a light kiss to your lips. You smile halfway into it, happy to have Ethan here but frown when he breaks away. He then moves around the couch, pulling your homework out of your hands and moving closer. 

His lips meet yours and you’re smiling again, heart in your throat like you’re a teenager falling in love all over again. Your hands wrap around his neck, intertwining in his soft brown hair and his hands slide down to your waist sending a trail of electricity along with it. 

Ethan breaks away for a second to press kisses to your neck and moves the two of you until you’re laying down, your papers crumpling underneath you but your homework is far from your mind with Ethan around. 

His lips return to yours and you pull him closer, his chest flush against yours and your legs intertwining as the half heated kiss turns slow and easy. You move slow and easy against each other and your heart is beating halfway out of your chest. His hand slides up from your waist to your face, cupping your cheek and you’re halfway to heaven at the contact. 

Finally, you break away and you’re both beaming at each other and it’s moments like this you’re certain you’re both massively in love with each other. Not one more than the other, not one less, the same. You can feel both your heart beats as one and your smiles are reflective. 

“Hey,” he says and you giggle quietly. 

“Hey pretty boy,” you respond and he giggles too, your favorite sound in the world. 

He presses a feather-light kiss to your lips before smiling wide again and sitting back up, pulling you up with him. You fall into his arms and he kisses the top of your head before standing up again and you pout up at him. 

“I’ll be done recording soon I just need to stream with some friends for an hour or so and then I’m all yours,” he promises and you smile again. 

After he heads back into the recording room, you attempt at getting some homework done. You get through at least another two math problems before collapsing back onto the sofa and throwing the homework down in front of you.

You grab your phone to take a break for a bit and end up on TikTok, your kryptonite when it came to procrastinating. You could spend hours on the app scrolling mindlessly and sending videos to your best friend. 

As you scroll you end up on a video that catches your eye. A girl shows her boyfriend playing video games at a pretty elaborate setup. She turns and smiles at the camera before walking over to her boyfriend who gives her a confused look when she reaches for his arms and lifts them up. 

She carefully maneuvers herself underneath his arms so he can still play but straddles his lap and rests her head on his chest. Her boyfriend nuzzles his face into her neck and the girl turns to smile widely at the camera before the video ends. 

Your face widens into a smile as you know you have to recreate the video with Ethan. You pull open your camera and head back over to the recording room door, pressing your ear against it. You hear Ethan greet his friends and announce to stream that they’re starting the first among us game. 

“Fuck I’m not ready to be impostor,” he whines and you smile knowing this is the perfect time to film the video. 

You pull open the door as slow and quiet as you can and carefully step inside the room. You click the door shut behind you and look up to see Ethan hasn’t noticed you. You take another step forward and at this Ethan finally hears you. 

He looks up, head tilted to the side in confusion, knowing you never disrupt his recording unless it’s important. You shake your head silently, telling him to continue and he returns back to the game reluctantly. 

You find a place to set up your phone just as he does his first kill of the game and vents in hopes of not getting caught. He hops out of the vent and you hit record on your phone. 

You walk over to a very confused Ethan now and just as he’s about to ask what’s wrong, you lift his arms up and duck your head underneath while swinging a leg over his lap and sitting down. 

“What are you-” he asks but you don’t respond. You slip your arms around his waist, pressing your face against his chest and sighing quietly and you hear Ethan giggle. 

“Aww baby,” he whispers pressing his face into your neck and placing a kiss there. 

He lifts his head back up, forgetting he was on stream to have his cheeks and neck flush bright red. His friends call and jeer at him and Ethan effectively tells them to shut the fuck up. 

“Whipped!” Mark yells in the back and you and Ethan both shake from laughter. 

You lift your head, meeting Ethan’s gaze and he leans forward to peck your lips. You giggle lightly before starting to move from Ethan’s lap but he tightens his light grip around you. 

“No stay!” he whines and you smile widely. 

“Yeah (y/n) stay!” Brian also calls and you and Ethan end up laughing together. 

“Shut up!” 

[hyuniepot]

the butterfly effect. || chapter 3

chapter word count || 1,763

genre || thriller, angst, drama

members || mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle, park jisung

warnings || mentions of death, implications of depression

pairing || fem!reader x jaemin || slight fem!reader x mark

synopsis || you never thought you’d be able to play with fate so easily, especially not through some shady app. but you suddenly must say goodbye to what you know and hello to a new world where everything seems perfect.

taglist || @gothboyjisung​ @jeongyoonohs @doiewonu @huanginjoon​

a/n || please read the replies to see what was removed from the beginning! luckily it was only one paragraph :-)

previous chapter

Wednesday, September 13

The past week had been great. You had gotten used to your new schedule and friends. You were starting to think maybe you could get used to this. Granted, doing something after school everyday whether it be practice or hanging out with friends, got pretty exhausting. But you didn’t mind. In the long run, it helped you sleep better.

“So who’s paying?” Hyuck asks, sliding into the booth seat across from you. Mark sat next to you.

“So who’s paying?” Hyuck asks, sliding into the booth seat across from you. Mark sat next to you.

“So who’s paying?” Hyuck asks, sliding into the booth seat across from you. Mark sat next to you.

“I can,” you say. “I have some extra money.”

Hyuck nods. “Good enough for me. When was the last time you paid?” he teases.

“I don’t know,” you say, grinning. “It’s not my fault you guys like to pay for our food.” you didn’t even know if that was true.

“You guys? More like just me. When was the last time you paid, Hyuck?” Mark asks. You internally cringe at your slip-up.

Hyuck puts his hands up in defense. “Hey, don’t get mad at me! I pay… sometimes…” he mumbles.

A waitress takes your order and you pull out your phone as Mark and Hyuck talk about something that happened in their science class. The ButterFly app is still there, almost taunting you. You ignored it and opened instagram. Finally, your social media was back to normal. No unsettling ads to be found.

You liked some pictures from your classmates -- Yeri’s selfie and a screenshot of her listening to Ariana Grande. Sihyeon, one of your new friends, posting a candid photo of her outside of a store. Suhyun, showing off a makeup look she did recently, looking cute as usual. A boy named Xiaojun posted selfies as well. You didn’t really know him, but you both had the same history class. You quickly scroll past a selfie of Naeun and Jaemin, trying to ignore it entirely.

“Do you remember that?” Mark asks you, laughing.

You put your phone down. “Remember what?”

“When you were scared of butterflies.”

You smile. Finally, something from this universe you already knew. “Yeah… I remember,” you reply, laughing. “Why do you ask?”

“Because our friend Hendery said he used to be scared of them too. It made me think of you.” Mark says, glancing away from you. “And then I took you to that butterfly garden and you suddenly loved butterflies. It was kinda cute, watching your feelings towards them turn from fear to love,” Mark tells you. You ignore the warmth in your cheeks.

The waitress returned with your food, putting it down on the table. You dug in, realizing how hungry you were. You, Mark, and Hyuck just talked about random subjects like the shows you’ve been watching on Netflix, things that happened at school and practice, and how good the food tasted until you were all ready to head out.

“I’ll go pay,” Mark says, scooting out of the booth.

“What? Mark, I said I was paying,” you argue, quickly scooting out after him.

“It’s fine. I’m used to paying.” he replies.

“Oh my god,” Hyuck groans. “You better not complain about me not paying ever again. You’re the one always volunteering.”

Mark shrugs. “I’m feeling generous.” he starts to walk towards the front counter.

“No. I said I was paying, so I’m paying.”

You go to follow him, but Hyuck suddenly grabs your wrist. “Hey, can I use your phone real quick?”

You stand, stunned, for a moment at the question. “Uh, yeah. That’s fine. The passcode is 7492.” Hyuck nods and lets go of your wrist, and you turn to catch up with Mark.

He’s pulling out his wallet. “Mark, I’m not giving up. Let me pay, please?”

Mark grins. “Okay. Since you’re so adamant,” he puts his wallet in between his arm and his side. “Rock paper scissors? Best out of 3.”

You roll your eyes, sighing. “Fine.”

Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.

You cheer as you beat Mark.

Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.

Mark wins.

Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.

You return to your table, dejected. Damn it. You didn’t even care about paying, you just wanted to beat Mark. “How is he so good at every-”

Your heart nearly stops as you see Hyuck on your phone. You recognize the familiar layout of ButterFly. And he was looking at what you sent. You snatch your phone out of his hands, your face growing hot with embarrassment. How the hell were you going to explain this to him?

“You downloaded it?” he asks, softly.

“Yes. But it’s… I just,” you try to speak, but nothing would come out.

“I knew it,” he breathes. “I used it too.”

You’re stunned again. You don’t even know how to respond. You weren’t even sure if you understood what he was saying.

Hyuck stares ahead. “I wished for something too,” he tells you. “And it put us in the same universe.”

You’re suddenly lightheaded. So this Hyuck was the one from your old life. The one who annoyed you and Jaemin everyday. And he knew you were the old you.

“Listen,” you say. Your voice is trembling. “We will talk about this later.”

“Talk about what?” you turn and see Mark.

“Homework. I used her phone to call my mom and when I hung up she got a text from a friend. We all have literature together and we just found out we have a project due on Friday.” Hyuck says, nonchalantly. “It’s a long story, but now we only have two days to do it.”

You nod, thanking the Gods above that Hyuck was a good liar.

“Damn,” Mark picks up his drink and drinks what’s left. “That sucks. I hope you guys get it done in time.”

“Yeah. We’ll have to work on it tomorrow. We don’t have practice, how about you?“ Hyuck gets out of his seat.

“I don’t either,” you reply. You all exit the restaurant start your walk home.

Mark and Hyuck talk again. You wonder what Hyuck could have wished for that put you in the same universe as him. Maybe it was the same thing. You just tried not to be too freaked out by it and tried to mentally prepare yourself to talk about it with Hyuck. You had just started to feel normal here, and now everything was turned upside down.

You make it home safely and try to relieve your stress by hanging out with Jisung and Chenle, who had come over after school. You watch them shoot hoops outside for a bit.

You wonder where Jisung’s love for basketball came from. He wasn’t really into it in your old life -- he was more into dance, although he was starting to become more and more uninterested in it. You knew Chenle was always into basketball, so maybe he was able to keep Jisung interested in it.

Then you remember that here, Mark and Hyuck were both on the basketball team. You start to think maybe Mark helped Jisung and Chenle get into it. You make a mental note to try and get Mark or Jisung to talk about it with you soon.

Once the sun started to set, Chenle went home and you went inside with Jisung. You did your homework with him. “Hey, (y/n?)”

“What’s up?” you respond, not looking up from your paper.

You hear Jisung shift in his chair. “Did you and Mark break up?”

You almost break your pencil out of surprise. You look up at Jisung, who is staring back. You weren’t even sure how to respond. Were you dating Mark? In the past week you’d spent with him, there was nothing that indicated you were dating him. He never referred to you as his girlfriend or anything like that. So surely, Jisung had to be confused right?

You took your chances.

“Jisung,” you chuckle. “Mark and I were never dating.”

Jisung’s eyes widen. “Really? But you guys spend so much time together… I just kinda assumed…” he continues working on the assignment in front of him. “I just thought you didn’t tell me because it’s none of my business,”

You sigh in relief with a smile. “But why do you ask? Mark and I are still great friends.”

“Well,” Jisung puts his pencil back down and closes his notebook. “He never comes over anymore.” he says softly.

Your shoulders drop and you sigh. “He’s just really busy,” you reply. “He’s busy with school and he has practice after school. He doesn’t have a lot of free time these days.”

“I know…” Jisung says softly. “Which is why I feel so dumb complaining. I just… miss hanging out with him. But he’s your friend, not mine. I don’t think he wants to be hanging out with some kids,”

“Hey,” you say firmly. “He’s your friend too. Trust me, Mark doesn’t care about his friends being younger. You’re only what, 2 and a half years younger than him? That’s nothing!” you say. “Seriously, you’re too in your head, okay? Don’t overthink it. Mark doesn’t hate you or anything.” you tell him.

Jisung avoids eye contact with you as he picks up his things, standing up from his spot.

“But… don’t feel dumb for being worried about things like that. It’s normal. Don’t be afraid to talk to me if you’re ever feeling sad, alright?” you tell him. He gives you a small smile before nodding and leaving the room.

It was awkward to tell him that. Jisung never talked about his feelings to you, and you definitely didn’t do it either. That just wasn’t how your relationship was. Jisung was 10 times happier here than he was in your old life, but even now he still had worries. All you could feel was guilt; You had been sacrificing Jisung’s feelings for the sake of not feeling embarrassed.

You shake the feeling off and try to finish your homework. You had enough to feel stressed and guilty about, there was no to go back and fix things now.

Or so you think.

[nct-jungjaehyun]

[10:48pm] ever since that time you hung out with the rest of the boys, jaehyun has been letting you use his phone freely. you asked for it to play games, because he has a lot of storage, and he never minded. as time went by, you began to just take it and use it, and he was okay with it. he had nothing to hide.

however, recently you noticed the abundance of notifications he gets from instagram after he made his new instagram account. he asked you beforehand and you were so sure that it was a great idea to connect with fans, but you’re beginning to doubt yourself. not only that, he had also been hiding his phone and taking phone calls privately.

you jumped as another notification popped from the device in your hands.

‘ComE meet me outsiDe in 15 miNNutes IM comLng over tTo y0ur houze’

out of instinct, your finger tapped furiously at the notification and it was from another girl.

she looked really young and pretty, which boiled your stomach. her user doesn’t ring a bell at all, unfortunately. well, jaehyun never talks to you about any other girls he knows.

you scrolled up to read any other messages, but they were mostly really relaxed texting, nothing special.

you had no choice. you decided to delete the message. if jaehyun sees it and meets her outside, who knows what will happen?

your heart pounded as your finger hovered over the delete button.

in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to doing it. you decided to not click it. you were already in the wrong for looking through his phone. you can’t make another dumb mistake by deleting his messages. he has a right to decide who he wants to be with. you wish it to be you, but the decision is his to make.

you exit the app and toss his phone around in your hands. just then, jaehyun walks into your shared room.

he climbs into bed beside you and cuddles your waist. “hey baby,” he sighs.

you automatically shove his phone on the opposite side and slide down the bed into his embrace. “hey,” you respond back weakly.

after a few minutes, he sits up and reaches over you to grab his phone.

he always checks his phone before sleeping to set an alarm and look through his groupchat. he leaves the 97 line groupchat on mute, though.

you forgot one thing, the mysterious message must’ve marked read because you touched it. that means that he’ll know you snuck into his dms. oh no!

panic spread through your body when he tensed under your fingertips. you wrapped your arms tighter around his waist. you don’t want him to leave.

“baby, uh, i need to go downstairs a bit,” jaehyun said.

you pretended to be nonchalant, “hm? why? Is there some-, something wrong?”

you wished that stutter wasn’t there, ugh.

he shook his head slightly, “no, everything’s fine. just go back to sleep. i’ll be right back, i promise, okay?”

you bit your lip and nodded reluctantly. you were glad he didn’t mention the part about his message being read, but you didn’t want to see him go.

he climbed out of bed and pulled the covers over you. before you can call him back, he already turned off the lights and left the room.

your hands twisted together nervously. who was she? why was she texting him? why has he never mentioned her to you? is everything going to be okay?

your legs rushed you downstairs and you bolted through the doors in your way. you slowed when you reached the front doorsteps. you creeped behind the staircase wall and peeked out to see what was going on.

they weren’t at a close distance so you can’t exactly hear their words. their voices were very muffled, but you swear you heard her mention your name.

you gasped when she threw her arms around him. jaehyun slammed her arms away and pushed her away, sending her stumbling backwards. her figure was a bit drunk, almost ghostly. he then marched to the street to call a taxi.

the next thing he did shocked you. he lifted the girl by her arm and tossed her into the cab. before she drove away, you can see how she looked through the window. her makeup was smeared and mascara ran down her eyes from the tears. her bloodshot eyes confirmed her drunken state.

you looked back over at jaehyun, who was currently sighing and rubbing his palm over his eyes. he seemed really stressed.

before you knew it, he was walking back towards the house, which was where you were hiding.

you had no time to think and you quickly turned to run up the stairs. your feet caught the puddle of water in the middle of the stairs before your eyes did and your sandal slipped. gravity launched you forward, but a force yanked you backwards into something sturdy, jaehyun’s chest. beside you was jaehyun’s muscular arm, holding you steady.

he twirled you around to face him, “are you alright? what was that? didn’t i tell you to stay in bed?”

you grabbed your heart and huffed, “no, that was terrifying, oh my god.”

he showed a cheeky grin, “let’s get you back up in bed before your clumsiness lands you in the hospital. what would you do without me?”

you laughed nervously. you know it was a joke, but what he said hit you hard. what would you do without him?

he sat you on a chair and rubbed your ankle to make sure it wasn’t sprained or hurt or anything.

“does this hurt?” he would ask when he examined your foot.

every single time, you said no, but it was because your heart hurt more.

he noticed how down you seemed and ended up dragging you to bed.

you laid there with so many thoughts running in your mind. the same questions were listed in your head and they were still left unanswered. it bothered you, but you can’t ask jaehyun. not after you checked his phone, anyway.

jaehyun interrupted your thoughts when he leaned over you to ask, “are you not sleepy yet? do you want to play some games? i know it’ll get you tired and help you sleep. subway surfers? candy crush?”

your mouth slightly opened.

he handed you his phone, “here, only for a little bit, though. it’s not good for your eyes to play so late.”

your fingers wrapped around his phone, and the ring on your finger caught your attention. it was a promise ring jaehyun gave you. you two promised to be honest with one another. you should come clean.

“jaehyun, is it okay if i talk to you for a little bit?” you asked timidly.

“yeah,” he sat up, “what is it?”

“earlier tonight, i looked at your dms and i read your messages.”

“so then you ran downstairs?”

you froze, “you, you knew?”

you couldn’t read his eyes. they were still and they stared back at you unforgivingly.

your hands waved back and forth, “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to. i just saw the message and i panicked and i began thinking that you’ll leave me and then i-”

before you can finish, jaehyun’s lips pushed against yours. you kissed him back and arched your back from his strong kiss. his hand landed on the small of your back.

when he pulled away, you weren’t breathless, but it was a sweet kiss that left butterflies in your stomach.

“baby, i’m sorry for being secretive with my phone lately. it’s my fault for making you suspicious.” he started.

you shook your head, “no, don’t...”

he took ahold of your hand, “the girl i was texting was a junior of mine. she let go of being a trainee and i supported her. but she went down the wrong path, she joined a modeling agency and it turned out to be a scam. she did it out of jealousy.”

“jealousy?”

“right after she left SM, you joined and debuted immediately.”

“so i took her spot?”

“no, don’t ever think that. you didn’t take her spot. i never told her until tonight either, but i found out that SM never planned to debut her. she was talented and had the looks, but her personality was horrible. her kindness was just to deceive the public. it was what mark told me last week when i asked, because they used to know each other on mickey mouse club.”

you nodded for jaehyun to carry on.

“she did all this to get my attention, because if she gets my validation, then it would mean she’s better than you. there was no chemistry between us. i only saw her as a junior. i thought it was best to hide it from you. i didn’t want anything between us to change.”

“things between us did change. this brought us closer. this just means that we have to be honest with each other.”

he smiled and pulled you into his arms for a big bear hug.

his voice was soft beside your ear, “i’ll be honest from now on. feel free to check my phone whenever you want. look through it proudly, i’m okay with it. you’re my girlfriend, you can do anything.”

that night just before falling asleep, you heard his soft whisper, “i mentioned earlier, what would you do without me. i don’t know what i would do without you either.” he sealed it with a soft kiss on your forehead.

[teriwrites]

2020 Writing Wrap-Up

Something that I do every year on the 1st is go back through absolutely everything I’ve written throughout the previous year and compile it into one massive word document. Everything from outlining notes to unfinished short stories to my NaNo project wind up in that file, where I like to read back and reflect on what I’ve gotten done through the year. 

Every year, I end up having written more than I expected, and this year was no different! 

Total for 2020: 203,119!

This is the first recorded year (I think it’s year 4 that I’ve done this for?) in which I’ve cracked 200K! It’s also the first year I’ve ever actually followed through on my resolution to share some of my writing online! So as rough as 2020 has been, I still somehow managed to break some personal records in writing. Which probably has everything to do with the fact that I joined this community earlier this year, and it’s been incredibly encouraging and supportive!

I also branched out a bit more this year in a few ways. I worked on some poetry and prose, which is not something I’ve put a lot of time into before so tends to be a challenge. It’s nothing that I’ll be posting anytime soon, but it was fun to work on in the moment, which is especially important in such a wild year as 2020.

One snag that I definitely hit was the fact that I have a lot more unfinished work than most years. A majority of the short stories I started working on never got finished. But I can’t even be too upset about that, because I totally loved being able to read back on even the fragmented pieces I ended up with. And while I do think a large part of that (for me) is discipline over inspiration, I’m willing to accept that, sometimes, things will remain unfinished. And it’s okay to stop working on them. 

My overall focus shifted a bit this year, too, which was interesting. I worked more on longer things than most years - started out the year by finishing my first draft of Castle on the Hill, continued making some edits and reworking its outline, did a large part of Beneath Alder Creek’s first draft in November. Right now, I’m working on what I expect to be a novella by the time I’m done with it. It’s a big contrast to the usual, short and snappy short stories that fill most of my previous wrap-up files. But I still definitely write those sometimes, and it’s nice to be able to try stretching and testing my own boundaries. 

This is the part of my wrap-up where I go ham throwing in some of my favorite out-of-context quotes from a variety of different things I’ve worked on. Some of them might be familiar, a lot probably won’t. I’m going to post it beneath the thing so this doesn’t become even more absurdly long!

Some of the ~highlights~ of 2020:

First Thoughts in the Morning: wow the sexual tension between me and the alarm clock right now. Later Reflection: wtf? (a literal note on my notes app that I included because I Cannot remember writing any of this and it made me laugh)

Edriele’s gaze trailed down to the woman’s armor, and her stomach twisted. “Where did you find your attire?” The woman glanced down in surprise, as though she’d forgotten she was wearing it. “It was fitted to me when I gained my ranking. I suppose it draws attention, but after my confrontation at… you mean to ask me whether I’m impersonating a Knight!” “The thought had crossed my mind,” the Sister replied dryly. (novella WIP)

“Do you need to make a stop at your house before we head to the chapel?” Leslie asked as they started off. “What for?” Winnie asked. Leslie looked pointedly at the tip of her galoshes poking out from beneath her dress. With another roll of her eyes, Winnie sighed. “Oh, I suppose so.” (Beneath Alder Creek)

When the third meeting for the Society of the Hidden Immortal Tribe was called for the decade, I knew heads would roll. Gathering the entire society together took months. Everything had to be hush-hush; that was the entire point of spreading ourselves out. Plus, every time a letter arrived in the mail, it was a reminder of the idiot who had decided we needed a name change. Everybody agreed that being deemed the ‘S.H.I.T.’ was humiliating, but nobody could agree on a better title, so it had remained the same for nearly a full century. That was the problem with living forever. You always had more time to make decisions, and, in the end, nothing ever got done. (S.H.I.T.)

When she leaves, I’m not sure I remember a word of what she’s said. But as the stresses of the semester wash back in, and my mind clears like being pulled out of a dream, I suddenly understand how one could crash upon the rocks without realizing they’d ever changed their course. (A Modern Siren)

When Georg arrived later, he found Klaus leaning forwards onto the table, staring vacuously at one of his textbooks. "Studying hard?" he taunted as he approached and dropped into the seat Ingrid had been occupying. "I talked with Ingrid," Klaus explained. Georg's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, but he quickly recovered and looked pointedly at Klaus' posture. "Go that well, then?" "She said I'm arrogant and completely self-involved and that I never take what a girl says into account whenever I'm on a date." With a haunted gleam in his eye, Klaus stared up at his friend. "I think she's right." "Well then it's a good thing somebody pointed it out," Georg offered, and he turned to his work. (Castle on the Hill)

Takemoto Hana rested a hand over her face. She couldn’t see the swirling of darkness over her head, but she heard the whine behind its words. With a wry smile, she asked, ‘Do you not know how to brew tea?’ ‘Of course I know how to brew tea!’ The dark spirit’s voice boomed with a defensive defiance that rang false in the funny little woman’s ears.  (The Funny Little Woman)

“None of us want to be here right now,” Edgar called out to the hall. “None of us want to go back through the handbook and listen to the steps of proper etiquette in immortality. But it seems that, once again, it’s necessary.” “Dammit, Dave,” muttered the man next to me. I said nothing, but I couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. Dave was… how do I describe Dave? To call him an idiot would be underestimating his craftiness. To call him a genius, I’d have to ignore all of his dumb antics. Cruel was too strong. Misguided was too innocent. Mischievous fit best, but even that fell short. Dave was a trickster god, if ever one existed. (S.H.I.T.)

Ridiculous, he told me with a self-conscious laugh of someone who didn't expect to be believed. I smiled, but I didn't join in. (The Little Roads)

“Hey, where did Alina go?” Lorelai asked. Zoe shrugged, but Jaiden cleared his throat. “I think you crossed one of her boundaries, Lo. She specifically asked not to involve her girlfriend in this, and then you did anyways. I know we needed the help, but friendships have to be built on mutual trust, my dude. You should’ve at least let her know your plan before you went behind her back.” The two women stopped and shared a look. “Hey, Jaiden,” Zoe asked. “Do you know the capital of Canada?” He shook his head. “I dunno, Ontario?” “Amazing.” (Mirror, Mirror)

"We had a bet going over whether you'd make it in time," Hans told him. "Did you win or lose?" Josef replied. Hans flipped a 5-Deutsche Mark coin over to Peter, who grinned as he pocketed it. "I'm glad you have so much faith in me." Josef's voice dripped with sarcasm. (Castle on the Hill)

Taliesin reached over his head and grabbed at one of the low-hanging bows, picking leaves from it. “I’m not sure.” Winnie stopped. “What do you mean?” “I mean that I don’t know.” (Beneath Alder Creek)

While she attended to these, the man beside her began to stir. Ella could see him out of the corner of her eye, attempting to push himself up into a sitting position. ‘You may want to lie back down,’ she told him, scrubbing uselessly at her skirt. The man continued to sit up anyways, pressing a hand against the side of his face. ‘Am I killed?’ ‘No, but your savior may be.’ Ella threw her skirt back to the ground. ‘When the Madame sees the state of me, I’ll be spending my future afternoons off making a new dress out of the fabric scraps.’ A frown crossed the man’s face as he considered her words, followed by a scowl of understanding. ‘You work for them. The bourgeoisie.’ (Cinderella)

Ingrid took the seat and began digging through her bag for a book. As she did so, she explained, "There were no other tables open in the building - even in the quiet section upstairs - so I figured that I would just ask the first person I recognized if I could sit with them, and well... here we are." "Don't worry about it," Georg answered when Klaus found himself dumbstruck again. "Just ignore the oaf, he'll leave you alone." Ingrid shot a grin at Georg, and Klaus suddenly wondered whether it was a good idea to have the two of them sit together. (Castle on the Hill)

Up ahead, I could see the glass walls of the bus stop. Usually, I waited for the bus leaning against the metal frame of the stop, leaving the seats inside open for children on their way to school. But the seats were empty now. I still avoided them. (Flo’s Magical Emporium: The Pandemic)

Now, I ask that you do not feel too much self-pity. For as easy an error as it may be to mistake a visiting aristocrat’s son for the hired help, the true talent in such a display causing his immediate departure lies within you alone. And to think that the meeting was the work of your father’s tenuous sway over the court! Well, I am sure the time away will do him some good, lest you begin to consider that you’ve ruined his position as well as your prospects. (Dearly Detested,)

Edgar was at the front of the lecture hall, and standing beside him was Dave, smirking as though at some private joke that only he was in on. He was wearing sunglasses, despite the dim lighting of the room, probably because he thought he looked cool. I rolled my eyes. What a tool. (S.H.I.T.)

 The work is different now. Countryside pathways winding through the forest lie forgotten for years without the familiar steps of a traveler. Off beaten paths in the city are never unknown for long, and sometimes streets that were once crossed by thousands a day fall back into obscurity. (The Little Roads)

“How much time will you give me to think on it?” she asked suspiciously, wrapping her arms around herself as though afraid they’d reach out to him if not kept in check. “You have all the time in the world,” the golden man said. “The boy’s, however, runs out with every passing second.” He extended his hand. (Beneath Alder Creek)

You ever met a rich person? Not comfortably wealthy. Not ‘my Uncle Kenny is a lawyer’ rich. Not even ‘widow answering the door to her manor on a hill dressed in fine silk’ rich. No, I mean proper, so-much-money-you-literally-can’t-spend-it-fast-enough rich. They say it isn’t worth Bill Gates’ time to pick up a $100 bill off the floor because he’ll have earned more in the time it takes to grab it. That kind of rich. They seem to be bred for times like these. Their houses are a source of endless entertainment – movie theaters, bowling alleys, personal gyms with a view of the sprawling landscape they overlook like cruel dictators. There’s no need for them to leave during a pandemic; they have access to the equivalent of a luxury resort most families have to save up month to visit. Necessities can be stockpiled in one of the useless extra spaces in the house. I mean, I once had to hide out in a luggage room for a contract. That’s right. An entire room dedicated to holding luggage, bigger than some of the apartments I’ve rented. I thought their residential labyrinths were my greatest source of grief. But social distancing? I’m one bad contract away from retirement. (Bounty Hunter During a Pandemic)

Shaking his head, Detlef pulled a new sheet from his notebook. “Look, I’m just saying, if we can get the satire right, we can be a modern Jonathan Swift.” “I don’t want to be a modern Jonathan Swift, I want to be a student actually passing his debate course!” Peter snapped. (Castle on the Hill)

Moonlight illuminated the German’s fair hair and pale skin, the effect more malevolent apparition than man. (Face on the Other Side of a Dark Window)

Back then, he’d been known for commissioning the exact same portrait of himself every hundred years, hanging them in a hallway in his manor and trying to pass them off as his line of ancestors to any of the locals. It had been a far less skeptical age, and Dave had earned himself a small band of worshipers before Jeff Goldblum himself had been forced to intervene. (S.H.I.T.)

Clara stood before the board of advisors assisting with her thesis. She was one, very intense paper away from her M.A., and she wasn’t about to risk it all by being too proud to ask for help. When she’d made the appointment to meet with them, she expected a series of questions surrounding her topic. Instead, they’d opened by offering her a job. “You want me to steal from the school?” Dr. Pye wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. Next to her, Dr. Pritchard said, “Don’t think of it as theft, dear. It’s merely redistribution.” Clara hadn’t amassed tens of thousands of dollars in debt to be lectured on the definition of robbery. “Either way, it involves me sneaking into the Chemistry department and taking a huge risk to get you some new toys to play with.” (Origins: The Ghost)

“Why is undermining Pryderi so important to Queen Ceridwen that she would risk breaking a timeless alliance just to dismantle them?” Her stomach twisted into a knot, protesting against the answer. “There are few members of the Dusk Court that we know by title.” A shadow passed over Enid’s expression. “The Lord of the Undernell is second only to the Queen.” “Great deeds build the reputation of one in their own court. Cruelty builds it in both.” Taliesin buckled under Winnie’s weight as she suddenly leaned against him. (Beneath Alder Creek)

“Why are all my friends so quick to endanger themselves?” I muttered as I packed up Midas’ crate. Natalie swiveled around from the candy aisle. “So you’re finally willing to admit that we’re friends?” “Save it.” (Flo’s Magical Emporium: The Pandemic)

[jasonbehrs]

i wanna read every word, chapter 2

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

“Have you ever fallen in love with someone you’ve never met?” “Uh, do you mean like we’ve-been-doing-long-distance-slash-online-dating or like I’ve-been-crushing-on-the-cute-barista-at-the-library-cafe?” “Ummm, more like I’ve-read-their-poems-and-sure-they’re-very-talented-but-their-handwriting-alone-makes-me-smile.” “… That’s oddly specific.”

fandom: kpop, super junior characters: eunhyuk, ryeowook; guest appearances by the rest of sj-m and yesung ship: eunwook genre: romantic comedy themes: alternate endings, strangers to lovers, handwriting, identity reveal setting: college chapter: 2/4 word count: 5.2k

read it below or on ffnet, aff, wattpad

A/N (6.6.2021): Welcome to the next installment folks! Some clarifying things:

- This is the first of two alternate endings to the story, which answers the question, 'What if Ryeowook finds out first?'

- I got some interesting reviews/PMs about the last chapter? Eunhyuk isn't pining after Yesung or anything, and I didn't mean to indicate that would be an aspect of the story. If you were looking forward to it, I'll be disappointing you today haha. Feel free to let me know how much you hate me in a review ;)

Also, today would have been my grandmother's 102nd birthday, so I'm dedicating this chapter to her since she always loved seeing me write. Love you, Nanay!

~~~

He and Hyukjae haven't hung out alone before, but he's sure this won't be awkward. Their only real link may have just been Yesung, but Hyukjae successfully ingrained himself into their entire friend group in the short weeks since they first met. Besides, even if Hyukjae weren't so willing to help him with his twisted scavenger hunt for love, Ryeowook thinks he'd like to hang out with him some time anyway. He's grown to like Hyukjae, really.

At least, that's what he tells himself when he turns the corner and sees Hyukjae sitting alone on a bench in the quad with his legs crossed, a laptop over one knee and an open notebook on the other, waiting for him to arrive.

Ryeowook takes a breath to steel his nerves then heads over to plop himself right next to the other. He doesn't say anything and takes out his own work instead. They don't have to start with the crush thing.

"Ah, my favourite person under 5'2". How do you do?" Hyukjae snarks without pausing his typing.

In response, Ryeowook uses a single finger to tip Hyukjae's notebook onto the ground without remorse.

"Ya!" Hyukjae picks up his notebook and slaps Ryeowook with it.

On the downswing, Ryeowook freezes.

"Oh shit, did I hit you that hard? Sorry, I didn't mean to," Hyukjae hurriedly apologises, but that's not it at all.

Ryeowook had caught a glimpse of the notes hurriedly scrawled across the open book. He would recognise that handwriting anywhere.

"Why don't we get started then," Hyukjae offers uneasily, eyeing how Ryeowook's stance hadn't relaxed yet. "Um, did you bring a copy of one of the notes like we discussed?"

Of course he did. Ryeowook was so excited to be one step closer to identifying the person behind the song lyrics that took up as much space in his brain as his Food Sciences lecture notes, he had brought the whole ass scrapbook with him, eager to show off his favourites to a new and willing audience.

But now, Ryeowook is panicking. He found the object of his affections much sooner than for which he was ready; and said object is sitting right next to him, staring at him expectantly and eager to help.

Not letting himself think it through, Ryeowook rummages through his bag looking for viable scraps of paper. There is no way he is going to hand Hyukjae's own work to him, so he makes do with what he's got.

He bypasses the lyric samples he actually prepared for today's meeting and found ones of his own making which he had intended to recycle weeks ago but never got around to. He silently thanks himself for this terrible habit as he frantically smooths out the small squares of paper before handing them to Hyukjae.

The other raises his eyebrows as he reads through the papers. "Damn, I was hoping that maybe one of these things had even a little similarity to an assignment we've heard so far, but no dice."

Ryeowook nods, affecting understanding disappointment even as he privately rejoices.

"Do you mind if I keep these? I can, like, surreptitiously check people's notebooks during group assignments," he offers with a laugh. "Pearl blue sticky notes can't be that common in a class of 50, right?''

Ryeowook smiles, wide and fake. "Fingers crossed!"

~Even though we're making awkward conversation, it's clear that we're happy to be together.~

Thus proceeds their search for Poem Person. (The gender-neutral nickname Mi had come up with stuck even after Hyukjae revealed those were not actually poems being left behind. Alliterative nicknames are just so catchy.)

"Okay, what if we tie a balloon to your chair and hope Poem Person likes balloons enough to take it with them around campus?" "No way, they won't take it." "How could you possibly be so sure?"

Sometimes, it's Hyukjae coming up with ridiculous plots.

"Trust me. They curl their lowercase L's." "I'm gonna let this go, but I want you to know that makes zero sense."

Plots which Ryeowook foils with equally ridiculous reasoning.

"''We might have never known each other, but we crossed faraway paths and came together. We crossed the distance of a stranger that's farther away than space.' Huh, not bad." "You think so?"

Sometimes, it's Hyukjae asking to read more of the scraps that Ryeowook collects, partially so Hyukjae can make fun of him, but mostly so that he has more clues.

"Yeah. I mean, it doesn't help me at all, but your man's got a way with words. I wonder why he doesn't submit any of the stuff you've shown me for class. It's worth critiquing."

An ask which forces Ryeowook to wrack his brain for passable imitations of song-lyrics-that-could-be-mistakenly-construed-as-poems and to get used to writing with his nondominant hand.

"Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass." "Really? You're passing on Park Hyungsik?"

Today, neither of them are feeling very motivated, so Hyukjae pulls up the Facebook profiles of his classmates and let Ryeowook play smash or pass because "it's fun to hear strangers' opinions on people you know."

"Oh, absolutely. Does that guy look like he cares where he dots his i's and j's? Hard pass," Ryeowook maintains.

Hyukjae shakes his head in amazement as he pulls back his phone. "You'll meet him one day, and you'll regret this moment; mark my words. Hyungsik is universally loved. Honestly, I'm not convinced yet Poem Person isn't him. He fits basically all of your criteria."

Ryeowook has to actively smother a knowing smirk. "What a shame."

He didn't come clean to Hyukjae in the quad that day because he panicked. Ryeowook was not mentally ready to meet the object of his affections so soon, much more confess, so he acted on impulse to buy himself some time.

Once he had it, he got curious.

It's no secret that Ryeowook had built up an idea of what Poem Person is like. The lyrics provided some insight, of course; but most of his intuition came from the handwriting itself. From what he could see, Poem Person was supposed to be intensely passionate, excitingly impulsive, and almost sickeningly romantic.

"Okay, how about this guy?" Hyukjae asks as he passes his phone over again.

Ryeowook takes one look at the screen and snorts. "Very funny. Pass."

The app is opened to a photo of Hyukjae himself posed unnaturally on a couch wearing a forward-facing snapback perched atop his head and an awkward half-smile, and Ryeowook refuses to look at it any longer before he does something he'll regret, like coo affectionately.

"Pass!?" Hyukjae repeats with mock-incredulity. "Don't you think he looks charming and witty and oh-so-loveable?"

Ryeowook indeed had a lot of thoughts about what Poem Person would look like, and 'charming,' 'witty,' and 'oh-so-loveable' have indeed flitted through his mind. Actually, Ryeowook finds that Hyukjae and Poem Person aren't altogether dissimilar.

Hyukjae is passionate about his craft, to be sure, but it doesn't occupy every one of his waking moments like Ryeowook expected. He is as much of a romantic as the next person is, but really Hyukjae is poetic, a distinction Ryeowook learns and appreciates very early on. Hyukjae is a little too thoughtful to be so impulsive, but his quick wit and ability to do/say/become whatever a situation calls for more than fulfill the quota for chaos that underlay Ryeowook's original supposition.

So yes, Ryeowook is withholding the truth so that he can slot the person he made up in his head into the person Hyukjae is, but it's been worth it.

"He looks like a brat and like his feet smell." "YAH! My shoes don't breathe!" "Get better shoes, then." "Give me the money, then." "Get a job, then." "That's not fair! Helping you find Poem Person is basically my part-time job!" "Consider it more of an unpaid internship."

Before Hyukjae takes his turn to volley back, his phone rings in his hand.

"Ah, as much fun as this was, I gotta go. I have a mini-showcase coming up, and I've been slacking on rehearsals." He shakes his phone towards Ryeowook, and the latter could see an alarm screen that reads "get your dumb ass to the gulliver center!"

Ryeowook's heart beats a noticeable thump thump all of a sudden. "Can I come with?"

"S-sure," Hyukjae says, shocked by the offer. "But why?"

That's a great question. For now, he says, "Because your internship is getting in the way of your studies, and I feel bad," but later, he'll know it's because he didn't want his time with Hyukjae to end so soon.

A grateful grin spreads across Hyukjae's face, and Ryeowook will add that onto his list of reasons later as well. "An audience is always welcome."

In no time, Hyukjae is in a practise room in the athletic center stretching his limbs every which way while Ryeowook watches as intently as possible while feigning interest in literally anything else in the room.

The bass-heavy noise music that Hyukjae puts on startles his attention back onto the dancer, and Ryeowook can no longer hide how blatantly he stares.

Hyukjae moves through the choreography so fluidly it almost looks lazy. He goes from jagged angles and harsh lines to sinewy curves and rolling waves to strong stomps and high jumps with no hesitation. He plays with the rhythm of the music, and he makes full use of the space available to him. Ryeowook is barely processing one impressive move when Hyukjae executes another one; and before he knows it, the performance is over.

"So," Hyukjae pants, "what'd ya think?"

"It's…" Jaw-dropping. Powerful. Hot. "… impressive," Ryeowook says at last.

Hyukjae smiles tightly. "Thanks. It actually needs a bit of work for the showcase, but I don't think the routine is all too shabby."

Ryeowook watches as Hyukjae watches himself through the mirror, redoing parts of the choreography over and over again at different tempos just to fine-tune his movements, and he can't help but feel like Hyukjae needed more from him.

"Um, I wonder if maybe it's lacking emotion?"

All movement halts. "What?"

Ryeowook didn't mean to say that; but now that it's out, he finds himself needing to continue. "You move well, um, obviously," he gestures awkwardly to Hyukjae's person, fighting a blush. "It looks physically difficult, sure, but what is it that you're trying to say? Like, I'm guessing you chose that song, too, right? So, why?"

Hyukjae stands in the middle of the room, arms limp by his side, and staring at Ryeowook with an unnervingly blank look on his face. Ryeowook hastily backpedals, "But hey, what do I know? I'm sure your professors will watch you and see all the nuances I can't with my untrained peon eyes. I was just… talking to talk, I guess."

"No, but I think you have a point," Hyukjae interjects.

Ryeowook perks up. "I do?"

"Yeah, like… I was so focused on trying to show what I can do with something only I could do, but that means basically nothing when any one of my classmates could learn my routine with only a week of practise. The only way I would be able to stand out is from whatever I put into it, but you made me realise I didn't put anything into it." He plops on the floor, eyebrows furrowed in consternation.

Ryeowook shakes his head adamantly. "No, no! There's clearly something there! You just need to, like, bring it out more. You have that whole idea—that this is something only you can do. You can take that, morph your routine into a testament to your need to prove yourself. Start with some trepidation, throw some desperation in the middle, and end with triumph. Honestly, I think I saw a little bit of that in your performance already. Maybe it was an accident, but now, just… do it on purpose."

"'Do it on purpose,'" Hyukjae repeats to himself. His head is down, so Ryeowook can't immediately tell what he thinks of the idea. He's ready to apologise again, even offer to go home so that Hyukjae can concentrate better, but then Hyukjae raises his head. "Alright, let me give that a try."

His eyes are filled with will and determination. Ryeowook, of all people, put those there.

He sits back and watches Hyukjae rehearse his routine over and over again, getting better and more evocative each time.

The Hyukjae before him is not a Hyukjae Ryeowook would have been able to guess based on his handwriting and lyrics alone.

Ryeowook knows basically nothing about dancing; but over the past few weeks, he's really come to know Hyukjae. He's noticed how the other is prone to express himself through movement, like when he accentuates his stories with body language and physical reenactments. It belies a comfort and confidence with his body and what it can do with which Ryeowook could never empathise. It's a subtle thing, but impactful nevertheless.

He smothers it down because he doesn't want to give Hyukjae the wrong idea, but he wants to laugh.

Only he could fall for a dancer's words first before anything else, and only he could fall for the same person twice.

~Where should I start? When should I say it? Darling, our seconds, our minutes together were beautiful.~

"Ryeowook, why haven't you asked to see my handwriting yet?"

"What?"

They had commandeered a study room in the library, but honestly neither of them are making a lot of headway in their respective assignments. Ryeowook didn't want anything to do with Organic Chemistry, but this conversation is making him reconsider his previous stance.

"Isn't that what you're into? Trying to infer people's personalities based on their handwriting?"

"I'm not into it. It just happened."

"Okay, sure, but aren't you, like, good at it now? Read mine! Tell me what it says about me."

Ryeowook, desperate to squash this idea immediately, blurts out. "It… It won't work!"

"Why not?" Hyukjae pouts.

Ryeowook scrambles. "Because I know you already. Yeah. I'll see and interpret things in a way that confirms what I already know."

Hyukjae eyebrows furrow in what Ryeowook can presume is consternation. "Sorry," he offers feebly.

Some more time passes, and Ryeowook makes mild progress on his O-Chem work, before Hyukjae speaks up again. "So if you can't do me, can you do my friend?" he asks with an excited tone that makes Ryeowook wary.

"I do not want to do your friend." You, however…

"NO! I mean: can you interpret my friend's handwriting? Here. He left it at my place last time we studied together."

Hyukjae's smirk radiates smug self-satisfaction, and with one look at the paper, Ryeowook understands why. He actively controls every muscle in his body to prevent the facepalm that's threatening to break loose.

He has to give Hyukjae props, though. If Ryeowook weren't already so intimately acquainted with the handwriting on the page before him, the other's ploy could have worked.

Regardless, he still finds himself in the position he was trying to avoid in the first place.

All the best lies are based in truth, right? "So I can tell your friend has a very high-stress major. The handwriting is cramped and small, like he can't waste a single stroke or else he'll miss something he needs to write down. Ah, see how he doesn't fully cross his t's and dot his i's? He thinks he'll be able to read his own handwriting later. He probably has decent memory or just has a lot of faith in himself."

Hyukjae nods with an impressed frown. "Huh, not bad."

It would be so, so easy to stop there, but Ryeowook can't. He loves Hyukjae's handwriting too much. "And look here," he points excitedly to a cross-out near the center of the page. "He could cross out his mistakes with a single line or a little squiggle, but he completely blocks it out instead. It suggests he has more confidence with the obvious; but really, I think he needs the reminder. Like, 'Yeah, I made a mistake. I'll move on, but I won't let myself forget. That way I don't do it again.'"

A moment later, Ryeowook realises with a jolt that he had been holding and smiling at the scrap paper a little too tenderly. He whips his head up in embarrassment, an explanation-slash-apology at the tip of his tongue, but Hyukjae doesn't seem to notice.

In fact, Hyukjae has been silent the whole time. Ryeowook chuckles awkwardly. "Am I right?"

"Huh?" Hyukjae intones as he's brought out of his reverie. Ryeowook thinks he sees something in his eyes when their gazes meet, but Hyukjae blinks and it's gone. "I'm sorry, what did you ask me?"

"I was wondering if I was right. About your 'friend,'" Ryeowook reminds, air quotes clear in his tone.

Hyukjae shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. "I think you're more right than even he's ready to admit," he says with a hand at the back of his neck and a sardonic quirk of his lips.

The sight causes an unexplainable swell of affection within Ryeowook, and he turns away. "He can take his time," he assures, eyes trained on his textbook even though he can't read a damn thing.

Hyukjae nods his thanks and turns back to his homework, but Ryeowook doesn't feel right letting it end here.

"Hey, wanna give my handwriting a try?"

~You always lift your head to look up at me. I want to take my big hands and cup your small cheeks.~

Next time they're meant to hang out, it's the weekend; and Hyukjae texts him to meet him at Bomnal.

"Both of us were here just two days ago, and we have to be here again in two days. Don't we spend enough time in Bomnal as it is?" Ryeowook complains as soon as he enters the atrium of the academic building.

"Think of it like a field trip. Come on, Wook," Hyukjae says as he leads them to the second floor lecture hall.

"Pretty sure field trips are meant to take us out of the classroom, but sure, whatever," Ryeowook grumbles as he follows along.

He's testy. He knows it, but he can't help it.

This is the first time both of them will be in Bomnal 235 at once. It feels like a turning point, like he's going to learn something today whether he wants to or not. He wonders if Hyukjae feels the same sense of impending that he does, or maybe it's just worse for him because he's in love.

As soon as they open the doors, the automatic lights flick on and douse the room with a very awake yellow.

"So… where do you normally sit?" Hyukjae asks as he motions to the empty seats before them.

Ryeowook freezes. Now that it's upon him, he can definitively identify this as the thing he was anxious about.

What if he tells the truth, Hyukjae realises Poem Person is him, and he feels awkward about it? Their comfortable but still-very-new friendship would evaporate on the spot, and Ryeowook won't have him in any capacity, much more a romantic one.

So, in another impeccable display of judgement, he decides to lie again.

"Oh, you know… I change it up," he mildly comments as he moves to somewhere near the middle of the first row. He sits down and gives an unassuming grin to his friend, who makes a face. "You're one of those people? Haven't you heard of the same seats code of conduct? You fed me some crap about curling L's when really it's your fault the balloon trick wouldn't have worked," Hyukjae jokes in that way where he's completely serious but is phrasing it with humour.

Ryeowook feels a genuine, fond grin spread across his face before he can help it, and he quickly ducks his head. "Why are we here, again?" he asks instead of dwelling on the validating comfort of being known.

"Why not?" Hyukjae asks as he moves to sit down. "This is the place it all began, right? Might as well."

Ryeowook, for his part, only stares.

Hyukjae went up to a seat in the rear right quadrant of the lecture hall. Ryeowok's own, real seat is directly in front of where the other is sitting. That can't be a coincidence.

"Um, I'm guessing that's where you sit?" he asks as casually as possible.

"Huh? Oh! Haha, yeah. It's funny, I didn't even think of sitting anywhere else. My feet just automatically guided me here."

"So funny," Ryeowook squeaks out.

"Yeah, my friend in the class actually used to sit with me, but it became very apparent very quickly that we would never get anything done if we did, so he moved down there." Hyukjae points with his foot to Ryeowook's seat, and Ryeowook's breath hitches in his throat. "Sometimes when I'm bored, I just can't help but throw stuff onto his desk just to annoy him." Hyukjae mimes a free throw shot towards the desk and smiles.

Well, if there were any doubt before in Ryeowook's mind that Hyukjae was Poem Person, it has summarily been erased.

Ryeowook hums but says nothing else, letting a companionable silence stretch between them as he acknowledges the warmth that settles into his chest when he confirms with himself that yes, he is glad that Hyukjae is Poem Person.

"Why are you helping me?" he asks, curious and without judgement. The abrupt question startles the other out of whatever reverie he had settled into during their respite, but Hyukjae bounces back quickly, as he always does.

"You know, I had to figure that answer out myself," Hyukjae answers with a laugh. He leans back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head, staring out at the empty lecture hall. "I told you I would at first because it was obvious that I was the only one in a position to actually help. It wasn't even an option in my mind that I wouldn't… But even after my sense of obligation ran out, I wanted to keep going.

"You're cool, Ryeowook. You're fun to be around, you're sassy, you're down to try anything once. You're totally comfortable being yourself, and your 'self' is crazy. Like, who else trusts in their gut enough that this person you're chasing after is worth the effort? Who else would go to the lengths to which you're willing to go just to meet him? Honestly, I think that's pretty awesome. I don't know if I could have that same confidence you do."

He tilts his head towards Ryeowook then and gives a close-lipped, self-convinced smile. "If anyone's gonna find love based on a few scraps of paper and a dream, it's gonna be you."

Ryeowook nods mutely. He hopes the distance between them is enough to disguise the blush on his cheeks.

Hyukjae faces forward again. "If I think about it, I guess I'm being selfish, too. I want to believe a love like that is possible; and if I help you find him, I'll get to see it happen for myself… I really hope this guy is worth it, Ryeowook. I think it would break my heart as much as yours if he weren't."

He is, though. He's so worth it. "Me too."

~Longing is a beautiful pain I thought I could endure.~

Ryeowook walks out of the campus mail room, and life couldn't get better.

He just picked up a care package his mom sent him; he got a 94 on his last Nutrition Essentials quiz; and Hyukjae loves the new low-fat, protein-enhanced strawberry scones recipe he tried out yesterday.

Speaking of whom, he thinks this whole Poem Person plot is going to wrap up soon. The last time they must have actually worked on a strategy to find out who Poem Person was, like, two weeks ago at least; and Ryeowook's glad he can stop pretending he has any interest anymore.

Their friendship has wholly evolved beyond the point of needing a project to work on in order to spend time with each other anyway. Why pine after a fictitious man when he has a whole Hyukjae right there, who buys him coffee lattes simply because he's Hyukjae's dongsaeng and who helps him study for his quizzes even when Hyukjae himself is stressed.

Ryeowook tells himself that with some more time, the whole mystery will just fade into an inside joke between the two of them, a white whale they can reminisce about when they're sipping soju and reminiscing… preferably cuddled on a couch and with his head on Hyukaje's shoulder.

However, his friend group did not get the memo.

"So, uh. What happened to Poem Person?" Henry asks one weekend while everyone is at Ryeo-Mi's apartment.

"Shut up!" Kyuhyun admonishes with a slap to the back of Henry's head. "Ryeowook hasn't annoyed us with that in weeks. Aren't you grateful?!"

"I actually am very curious about what happened there. Weren't you and Hyukjae supposed to find him together?" Yesung asks.

"The gen—" "Maybe I'm manifesting, Mi! Ever think of that?"

Ryeowook cuts in before Mi's feelings get even more hurt. "Yeah, we were, but honestly I've kinda given up on the whole thing."

He expects some shock, but he couldn't have predicted who would be the most affected. "You're just gonna give up on finding love!?" Mi despairs.

"Actually, the potential for a romantic relationship was never confirmed," Henry quips. Yesung gives Henry a high-five.

"It was just a little crush," Ryeowook defends. "I've moved past it, as I was bound to do eventually." He says this last part to Kyuhyun, who he knows was the most annoyed with his actions back then.

"'Eventually' doesn't end in time for finals week, Wook," Kyuhyun retorts.

"Well, now you never have to worry about it, Hyun."

"Is love dead?" Mi desponds aloud, but no one pays him any mind.

Ryeowook pats his roommate's shoulders in a half-hearted attempt at consolation. If Mi turns out to be the only casualty in this whole ordeal, Ryeowook will count this as a win.

What he doesn't count on is the fact that Hyukjae would invariably hear about it.

"Is it true?" Hyukjae corners him after Ryeowook picks up his order from the on-campus cafe.

"You know, I don't think so. I think she's just Henry's accompanist for rehearsals," Ryeowook responds genuinely, certain that the latest gossip about Henry's potentially secret girlfriend is what Hyukjae must have been referring to.

"What? No!" Hyukjae stops in confusion but stomps after Ryeowook once he gets his bearings back. "No, I heard that you gave up on finding him, that you gave up a while ago. Is it true?"

Ryeowook hesitates to sit down at the open table he found, and Hyukjae's entire posture seizes in betrayal. "Alright, got it," Hyukjae says with an edge to his tone. "Do me a favour, yeah? Never talk to me ever again."

"Wait!" Ryeowook calls once Hyukjae turns on his heel and storms off. "Hyukjae, wait!" He pays no mind to the fact that he's abandoning his belongings as he chases Hyukjae outside. "I get that you're angry, but don't you think this is a little much?"

He reaches out for Hyukjae's upper arm, but the other immediately shrugs it off. Ryeowook flinches and retreats slightly. Despite the other's obvious fury, Hyukjae is stopped in place and seems willing to actually talk to him, and Ryeowook holds onto that hope instead.

"No, actually," Hyukjae sneers. "I think this is the perfect amount of much when you find out your best friend has been wasting your time for who knows how long!"

Of all the things Hyukjae could have said in that moment, Ryeowook didn't expect that reaction at all. It stings more than he expects, cuts through his defensiveness; and despite his position in the situation, he can't help but need comfort. "What do you mean?" he asks in a confused, desperate voice.

"What do I mean?" Hyukjae repeats exasperatedly. "Ryeowook, we spent weeks together trying to figure out how to get you your dream guy! We never even got anywhere, and, and… And it's all because of you! You shot down basically every one of my ideas practically from the beginning, even after I told you how much it would personally mean to me. That is, like, the textbook definition of a waste of time!"

"You weren't having fun?"

"What?" Hyukjae demands incredulously.

"All that time we spent together," Ryeowook clarifies as he steadfastly meets Hyukjae's angry gaze. "You didn't have fun?"

Hyukjae is silent, and his body posture screams obstinate defiance, but his eyes remain trained on Ryeowook.

"You didn't come to look forward to spending time with me? You didn't spend your free time thinking of ways to make me laugh?"

Hyukjae rolls his eyes. "So what? What does any of that mean when you were just stringing me along? You… you weren't even using me!?" he exclaims, voice rising in a hysterical question. "That was literally the whole basis of our friendship, and you couldn't even do that? Like, what could you have possibly gained from lying to my face like that for all this time?"

Ryeowook gives a watery smile at the non-answer and looks down at his fingers fidgeting together. "I did, too," he says in a voice so quiet it was like he intended to keep that to himself.

It's silent for a long time after that admission. Hyukjae's lividness has dissipated, and he is only left with a disappointment so painful he doesn't want to dwell on it any further. He moves to leave Ryeowook alone outside of the cafe, but Ryeowook's voice stops him.

"W-What did you say?" Hyukjae asks with apprehension.

Ryeowook ignores the tears falling from his eyes as he repeats himself. "I'm in a rush to catch you, but you're in a hurry to leave. Should I just surrender? Now we're like an old and worn notebook filled with scribbles."

Hyukjae simply stares, and Ryeowook takes that as his cue to keep going. "Take your beautiful smile with you. Don't leave it here. You saw me with tears in my eyes."

By heart,

"I was a selfish man, but my life is divided into before and after I knew you."

Ryeowook recites lyric,

"When I first saw you, it felt like a miracle."

after lyric,

"I'm thinking of you more today. I wonder how tomorrow morning will be. Will I miss you more than I do today?"

after lyric;

"I'm honest because I don't know lies before love."

and before he knows it,

"I'd place my feelings on the thawing snow. I'd hang my wish on a disappearing star, but only if you ask me to."

Hyukjae is within arm's reach.

"It's me?" Hyukjae whispers into the scant centimetres between them. "It's really me?" he asks again when Ryeowook had simply nodded.

Ryeowook can't even help it when he recites, "Even when you ask me again, for me, it's only you." with a breathy laugh as he shyly looks away.

Hyukjae moves to gently hold Ryeowook's hand. "And you're okay with that?"

Ryeowook wants to laugh and melt and cry and run away, but instead he settles for an earnest nod and a hesitant smile. "Are you?"

Hyukjae answers him with a kiss, and it feels like a dazzling melody.

~Together, we can make all our unfulfilled dreams come true.~

[greekletters]

I'm oddly productive this week..

Prompt: You Forgot to Say the Magic Word

--------------

“I don’t know why you insisted on coming with me if you are just going to complain the entire time.”

“Well, I thought this was going to be a lot more exciting than it appears to be. You’ve always seemed to enjoy it immensely, so I wanted to come with you.”

“Weiss, not once have you ever expressed any interest in doing the grocery shopping.”

“That is untrue. I have gotten things from the store for us many, many times.”

“You had your assistant deliver it to the house. I doubt you even know how to get here on your own without GPS.”

“Now that’s just rude, and I am not complaining.” Blake stops in her place and stares blankly at Weiss.

“You literally just went on a five minute rant in the car about how you couldn’t believe they expected you to use a communal cart to place your food in.”

“It is a valid concern for our safety.” Weiss sticks her nose up in the air while pulling her hand sanitizer from her bag.

Blake shakes her head, holding her hand out because she knows Weiss will make her take it regardless of whether or not she wanted any hand sanitizer.

“Wait! Don’t touch that.” Weiss says abruptly, causing Blake to jump.

“The handle of the cart? It doesn’t move on it’s own, you know.” Rolling her eyes. “And you need to chill out or I’m going to make you go sit in the car.”

This was going to be a test of will for Blake. She could already tell. Never again would she grocery shop on the weekend. For fear of Weiss wanting to come with.

“Fine.” Weiss begins to wander the immediate area, browsing with suspicion. “How do you know what we have to get?”

“I make a list of what I would like to cook every week, and the stuff we eat. That way I don’t have to wander around the store like a lost puppy looking for food.”

“Are you saying that I look like a lost animal?” She looks across a stack of fruit at Blake, eagerly awaiting her response.

“No, but you do look like a snooty rich lady that has never done her own grocery shopping before. And like all the food is covered in disease.” Grabbing some bags from the stand nearby, Blake begins placing some different items in bags and putting them in the cart. Marking them off the list on her phone as she goes.

“What is on our list?” Weiss leans over, curiously trying to eye the screen.

“You know,” putting the phone back in her pocket “I shared this note with you and it’s been on your phone since the first time I went shopping for us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I would’ve noticed.”

“I’m dead serious. Check.” Motioning towards the phone in Weiss’ hand.

Quickly unlocking the phone screen, she navigates to the notes app. Sure enough, she finds it in the shared folder. ‘Blake and Weiss’ Grocery List’ last updated yesterday around eight.

“Ah. I see.” Clearing her throat. “Why do you share it with me, if I never come shopping?”

“So if there is anything you want that I didn’t put on the list, you can add it?” Blake says, like it’s totally obvious.

“Well, good to know.” Straightening her posture and walking a few steps away through an aisle with vegetables, Weiss reopens the list and reads down it.

It seems highly organized. Which she expected nothing less from Blake. It appeared to go in order of the sections of the store. And it contained almost every single thing they kept in the house.

Weiss had never really spent much time thinking about it before. She had always been privileged enough, too privileged, that she hadn’t ever had to do her own shopping. Or cooking for that matter. Blake did all of it. Mostly. They did go out on occasion.

Continuing to scroll, Weiss notices a lot of food on the list is required to make various different meals. But there are a few single items like snack foods or random out of place items. Taking her chances, she adds her favorite flavor ice cream to the list and closes the app.

Blake continues to shop, seemingly unaware of the addition.

“Hey Weiss, which one of these looks better?” Holding up two tomatoes for Weiss to compare.

“They’re both red.”

“I know that.” Shaking her head back and forth. “Which one looks better though?”

“In what way? They both look dirty.” Weiss grimaces when Blake attempts to hand them to her.

“I know. I wash them before we eat them. But if you are going to come grocery shopping, you have to participate in the shopping part. It’s a requirement.”

“The one on your right, I guess. The other one has a bruise on it. And I don’t want to eat it.” Her face scrunches.

“See? It’s not difficult at all.”

“You do this every week?”

“Every other week.”

“Too stressful.”

“Buying the food we eat?” The mild look of unamused disbelief on Blake’s face is very telling.

“Picking which ones to get, making the list, coming here and touching the dirty cart. I don’t know how you manage to do it.” Shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Because we need to eat, and if you were to die of starvation I would be sad. Because I like you a little bit. Now, push the cart.” Blake walks off down an aisle, leaving Weiss behind with the cart full of fruits and vegetables wrapped perfectly in individual plastic bags.

After a few seconds of flailing, trying to figure out how to push the cart without actually touching it, Weiss gives up and begins to make her way towards Blake down the aisle.

Blake is looking at the list on her phone as she absentmindedly places a few items in the cart and continues to move forward.

“Do you want me to make pasta this week?” She looks back over her shoulder at Weiss, who is overwhelmed by the number of various items on the shelves.

“What?”

“Pasta. Do you want any kind of pasta this week, or no?”

“That’s fine.” She grabs a blue box off the shelf, eyeing it oddly. “There’s macaroni and cheese inside this box?”

“Yes?” Not sure if Weiss is asking a trick question.

“How?”

“I’m not exactly sure what you mean by that.”

“How can there possibly be macaroni and cheese in here? The box would be soggy. Is it in a bag or something?” The look of pure concern on Weiss’ face is enough to break Blake’s stoic expression. And she begins laughing.

“Are you for real?”

“I don’t see what is so funny.” She stops pushing the cart and places her hands on her hips.

“You’re hilarious. That’s what’s funny.” Blake grabs the front end of the cart and pulls it along behind her.

“At least answer my question, since you feel like laughing at me.”

“There is macaroni and cheese in the box, Weiss. You have to cook the pasta and then mix the cheese into it. It doesn’t come already prepared.”

“Oh.” Feeling dumb for not thinking of that, she grabs the handle and continues her duty of pushing the cart.

Weiss continues following Blake with the cart as her eyes are trained on the list. They make their way down a few more aisles before coming closer to the frozen section. Blake looks down the aisle but continues right past it.

“We don’t need to go down this one?” Weiss asks, knowing that it’s where the ice cream is.

“Nope. Nothing from the list is down there.” Blake hears a small whine coming from Weiss’ end of the cart and smiles.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Now come on, we have to get some other things before we can go.”

Huffing, and annoyed about not getting the ice cream that she added to the list, Weiss follows Blake once again, this time towards the dairy and meat sections. After about five minutes of silence and cold shoulder, Blake turns back towards Weiss.

“Okay, what has you grouchy now?” Raising an eyebrow as she questions.

“Nothing.” Weiss crosses her arms over her chest.

“Uh huh. Sure. Is there anything we are missing from the list?” Testing Weiss to see how stubborn she was willing to be.

“Don’t you have the list?” Weiss asks, passive aggressively.

“I do. But I think I got everything. I was just asking you, just in case.” Leaving the option open for Weiss to say anything if she wanted to.

They pass by the end of the frozen food aisle once again. Weiss looks longingly down towards the ice cream.

“You’re absolutely sure?” Blake asks one more time, smile on her face.

“Fine!” Weiss stomps her foot and walks down the aisle by herself and slings the freezer door open and looks into the cold storage container in front of her.

After a few moments of searching, Weiss hears the wheels of the cart making their way down the aisle.

“You have no idea what kind of ice cream we eat, do you?”

“I put it on the list.” She says defiantly.

“I saw.”

“How?” She looks out of the corner of her eye at Blake.

“Any time you make a change to the note, I get notified.”

“Can you just grab the ice cream so we can go? I’m freezing.”

“You forgot to say the magic word.” Blake’s sheepish grin makes Weiss roll her eyes.

“Please?”

“Okay.” Weiss leans over and places a kiss to her cheek just before she reaches in the freezer and grabs the ice cream and tosses it in the cart. “Can you mark it off the list for me?”

“I have no idea how to do that.” Weiss shrugs her shoulders and takes her place to push the cart once again.

The only thing Blake can do is smile and shake her head as she taps the little circle next to ‘ice cream for Weiss’ on the list.

[kayteewritessteve]

DT - Drunk Twitter 1/3

Description: One stupid drunken night leads to an uncomfortable week from hell. That only gets worse when you are forced to face the problems, that your drunken escapades caused, head on. Yeah, you are never going to drink ever again.

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 8,380 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG.

Warnings: Lots of curse words, awkward moments, and a slightly frustrated reader. Little angst here and there, but lots of stupid humour.

Requested: Nah, this just randomly popped into my head and I ran with it.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

You groan loudly as your hand flails out from under your duvet cocoon, blindly searching for the hellish contraption that currently insists on screaming at you. It is far too early for such an ungodly sound, and you are far too hungover for this shit right now.

Your hand finally makes contact with the screeching little asshole that is your alarm clock, causing a loud smash to echo through the room, just from the sheer force of your flailing limb alone. And then instantly your room falls back into silence once again. Though the constant ringing in your ears, both from the alarm and your hangover, makes that last fact slightly unknown to you in this moment.

You groan, grumbling incoherently as you pull your hand back into the warmth of the little blanket bundle that has now become your life. You plan to spend the rest of your days just hiding in this dark little cove, and then eventually one day dying here. Which from the aches and pains wreaking havoc on you currently, might be sooner, rather than later.

Why the hell did you drink so much?! Who let you polish off two bottles of wine last night?! Like, where the hell was your adult?! Clearly from this day forward you’d need someone to constantly make life choices for you, so that you never ended up in this position ever again.

You vow in this exact moment, that from this day on you will never ever drink again.

But then you remember your best friend's birthday is in 2 weeks, and you groan loudly. Okay, so you kinda have to drink for that, but mark your words now, that will be the very last time that you do!

Your phone buzzes on your bed beside you, lighting up the dark little fortress you’ve created around yourself. And whelp, looks like you never plugged it in last night. You’re honestly surprised it’s even still alive. You’d have to write a tweet to Apple about how their phone actually made it 24 hours on one charge. You’re sure that’s something they’d like to know about, as that was a highly uncommon thing to actually happen.

You reach over to grab your phone, picking it up and bringing it close to your face, before hissing at the brightness and yanking it away with such force you’re surprised you didn’t fling it across the room. You squint your eyes as you fumble to turn the brightness down, and once you successfully have you bring the screen back to you. Directly in front of your face so your blurry, dry eyes can actually read it.

And instantly you gasp loudly, your eyes watching as notification after notification pops up on your lock screen. Your twitter is blowing up right now and a cold sweat promptly rips through you. Because oh God, did you do it again?! Did you seriously post something while stupidly drunk again?!

Fuck. You groan, unlocking your phone quickly to check. Because for some ungodly reason, drunk you always insisted on posting the stupidest tweets. Normally you’d wake up the next morning, hungover and a little closer to death than the day before, and you’d open your twitter to find all the ridiculous shit you’d posted about, the previous night. Usually all of which only had maybe a retweet or two, a couple likes and usually at least one comment—thanks to your lovely best friend. Her comments normally consisting of both laughing at you and calling you out for being a crazy drunk tweeter. She just knew you and your quirks far too well. It was seriously a problem.

But this time, this time was clearly entirely different. However that was just an educated guess, due mainly to the hundreds of notifications that you now had, thanks to whatever your dumb drunk ass had posted, which had obviously blown up. And now you’d be lucky if you could sweep it under the rug like you’d always done in the past.

Oh God, please don’t let it be another praising tweet to some figure head or celebrity. That seemed to be your go to favourite thing to drunk-tweet. You had this weird need to cheer random strangers up when you were drunk. This insistent desire to support and appreciate the people you idolized. Oh please God say you didn’t tag the person the tweet was about this time.

Your shaky thumb clicks the iconic blue and white, Twitter app icon. Completely ignoring the ridiculous number in the little red circle on the icons top right corner, as you do. You haven’t even read the tweet yet and already you’re freaking the fuck out.

You quickly make your way to your profile and your eyes widen at the insanely large rant, that’s continued through multiple separate tweets, and is now sitting at the top of your page. Your eyes skim over them all, in order of posting, and you cringe, truly and utterly mortified now.

‘Do you ever just hear of someone in passing, or see them in the media, and have this instantaneous deep longing emotion within you. Not a longing in the sense of wanting them, but entirely due to hoping with everything inside you that they find their true happiness one day..’

‘..‪That they wake up in a few years and smile, like truly smile, because they are exactly where they wanted to be. Where they deserved to be. That they’d ended up with every desire they had yearned for. And I’m not talking about material objects. I’m talking life goals and accomplishments..’‬

‪‘..I’m talking about the true important aspects of life. The things that actually matter in the grand scheme of it all. Well, that is how I feel whenever someone brings up Steve Rogers. Or whenever I see an article or a news story about him. I instantly have this desperate want for him..’‬

‪‘..to be happy. Truly and utterly happy. The man deserves exactly that, and yet so much more. What with everything he has done for us and this planet. If anyone in this world has earned their happily ever after, it’s that man.’ ‬

‪Oh God. You groan, as your free hand comes up to cover your face in sheer horror and embarrassment. I mean, at least the silver lining here is you didn’t make any major spelling mistakes, and you also luckily, completely forget to actually tag him in it. So those are both small victories, in and of themselves. ‬

‪But the fact parts of that rant had blown up, regardless of you actually tagging him, is a little disheartening. You’re pretty sure he’s either seen it or been informed about it by now. And even if by the off chance he hasn’t, you know it’s only a matter of time before that changes. ‬

‪You scroll through the notifications and you feel your heart stop, as all the blood leaves your body and goes—honestly who knows where it goes, but it definitely doesn’t stick around to be apart of this train wreck of a situation. You abruptly sit up, the blankets falling from your upper body and pooling around your waist now.

‪Tony Stark retweeted your post. ‬

‪5 little words that make you want to delete every social media account you currently have, plus move to ‬Lesotho or something. Never heard of Lesotho? Well, that’s exactly why you’d picked to move there. Because most people don’t really know it even exists, nor where to find it on a map. So it would be the perfect place to hide away, and start a new life under a fake name.

Yup, it’s settled. Pack your bags, we’re moving to Lesotho!

You don’t even have it in you to read Mr. Starks response back to your tweets, nor dig any further into your notifications to see who else may have retweeted this whole mess. God, what is wrong with yo—

Your phone ringing scares the complete shit out of you, damn near chucking the metal brick across your room, for the second time this morning if anyone is keeping tabs, as your heart thumps loudly in your chest. However, you manage to keep a firm grip on your phone, but just barely. Effectively saving the thing from an untimely death, thanks to being forcefully introduced to your bedrooms brick wall.

Though come to think of it, maybe smashing it would be the best option here?

You sigh deeply as you finally notice it’s your best friend calling, a groan leaving your throat as you then instantly realize that she is probably calling thanks to your stupid Drunk Twitter rant. You contemplate not answering for a second, you could pretend you’re still asleep. But you know she’ll just keep calling until you answer, or worse, she’ll just show up at your house and let herself in with her spare key. Then you won’t have the luxury of hanging up on her if her teasing gets to be too much.

So as you click the answer button and hesitantly raise the phone to your ear, you prepare yourself for your incoming humiliation. I mean, more so than your already currently experiencing. Which is both surprising and frustrating, because who knew you could ever be this mortified in real life? You certainly didn’t, but yet here you are.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Lindsey’s loud voice mixed with her unabashed laughter rings out of the phones speaker, it’s so loud that you instantly yanked the phone away from your ear. Your headache coming back tenfold as you groan loudly and message the side of your skull.

“Giiiiirl!!” She hollers now, and so lustrously that you can hear her perfectly, even with the phone still being nowhere near your ear. “What the hell were you drinking last night? And where can I get me some!”

You grumble out a, “you need to lower your voice or I’m hanging up on you.”

“Awe, is someone a little hungover today?” She coos in a motherly voice, though at a much quieter level now, at least enough to warrant putting the phone back to your ear once again. However her voice may be softer now, but the playful and teasing edge to her tone is as loud as a freaking bomb.

“More like dead,” you mumble falling back down to lay on your bed and slinging your free arm over your eyes. “Or at least I wish I was.”

Her gleeful cackle rings out of the phones speaker now. “Girl, don’t say that! I’d miss you too much, and you’re fucking famous now!”

You just groan, not even remotely interested in what she means by that.

“Oh, and why am I famous now, Lindsey?” She says in a mocking tone, clearly trying to impersonate you, but in your opinion not coming anywhere close. “It’s so wonderful you should ask Y/N! Probably because your tweets are all over the news stations, social media and the internet. Even most of the Avengers have already retweeted it, most notably Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson AND Bucky Barnes. Ya know, all of Steve Roger’s best friends. But yet, no one has commented on whether the recipient of your beautiful drunken words has actually seen it or not. Buuuuut we can all assume he probably has.”

“Can we just not do this today?” You roll onto your side, your free hand now pulling the duvet up and over your head again. “I am in far too much pain and far too humiliated to be having this conversation right now. Can we please, for the love of all things that are holy, talk about something else? Anything else, I beg you!”

“Hell no!” She exclaims, you wincing at the abrupt volume change. “My best friend is famous! And all because she drank too much wine and tweeted a ridiculously sweet rant about thee Captain America! Honestly, this. Is. Just. Too. Damn. Good.” She squeals, “you can’t even write better shit than this!”

“Lindsey,” you groan, “I am way too hungover and under caffeinated for this right now. Seriously, I’m going to hang up now and hopefully fucking die.”

“Fine, fine,” she relents but you can still hear the humour in her voice, “I promise I’ll drop it, for now. But get your sexy ass out of that bed and meet me in the kitchen STAT.”

“Uuugh,” you drag the sound out. “You’re freaking in my house right now, aren’t you?”

“I am,” she says gleefully. “But before you flip shit, don’t. I brought coffee and bagels, so be a good girl and get your ass out here or I’m going to eat all of it myself.”

You don’t even respond as you hang up the phone, she had you at ‘coffee’. You quickly flip the blankets off yourself and roll out of bed. Not even bothering to check yourself out in the mirror because honestly, Lindsey has seen you at your worst. So she is entirely used to this from you.

You trudge your way out to the kitchen, seeing your best friend pulling wrapped food from a brown bag and you groan again, but this time happily. Her eyes dart up to you and she gives you a once over, a small frown on her lips now.

“Oh boo thang, you look horrendous,” she says softly, sweetly, as you reach her, and she hands you the large to go cup of coffee. “Drink this. Then go jump in the shower, you stink like shame and poor life choices,” she scrunches up her nose playfully.

“I honestly don’t think a shower will remove those particular smells from my skin. I think that’s just my natural scent now,” you giggle as you take a deep waft of the glorious life juice’s warm aroma, a content sigh coming out on the exhale. You bring the drink to your lips and almost moan. Yes, you are this much of a coffee nut. You take a few generous gulps then stumble over to the counter stools and plop down. “But a shower does sounds like a good plan,” you nod, the cup staying close to your mouth for quick and easy access.

She hums in agreement, nodding as she hands you a wrapped up bagel. “So, should we talk about what caused you to want to get ‘Sappy Drunk Tweets’ wasted last night or?”

You sigh, “I just had a shit day at work. My boss was a raging asshole, yet again.” You shake your head, “but what’s new?”

“I can not stand that evil little man!” Your friend growls. “You seriously need to find a new job, Y/N. You can’t keep working for that piece of shit anymore. And I honestly don’t think your poor liver can take much more of these semi frequent beatings. Somethings gotta change.”

“I know, I know,” you nod, “I’ve been searching for something else, but there just isn’t many available jobs at the moment. But I’m hopeful I’ll find something soon.” You take another large gulp of the sweet, sweet liquid gold, feeling as the warmth radiates throughout your whole body, as your brain slowly begins to rejoin the land of the living.

It’s been a few days since your stupid drunken escapades on Twitter, and a few days since Lindsey visited. You both had enjoyed your coffee and bagels, talking about everything and nothing. Luckily she had kept the drunk tweet talk to a minimum, like she promised. And once you were all done that, Lindsey headed off to work and you hopped in the shower, before spending the entire day on your couch, watching movies and pointedly ignoring your phone. Or rather, the never ending string of notifications on said phone.

So now you’ve been basically hiding out since then, only leaving your house to go to work or to make a quick trip to the store down the block from your apartment. The stupid tweets are still blowing up, people are still retweeting them and talking about them.

You’d hoped this would have all blown over by now, that something else ridiculous would have come along and stolen everyone's attention. But alas, you aren’t that lucky. Because not a damn thing is going on in the world right now, obviously, as everyone is still very much hung up on your whole embarrassing sap fest.

So much so that you are being recognized now as the ‘Steve Tweet Woman’. Which is just fucking outstanding—ha! not!

News outlets, websites and talk shows have been blowing up your phone and email, asking for comments or to set up interviews. Wanting to know if anyone from Steve’s camp has reached out to you, or if you’ve been invited to the tower to meet the team. Also asking if you and the Avengers are now friends, or at the very least acquaintances. And those are just a few of the things they are asking you. Honestly, those are the least ridiculous questions—which is freaking sad.

So leaving your house has become a damn chore now, you have to wear a full disguise just in the hopes no one recognizes you. This is not what you wanted at all. Shit, you don’t even know what you wanted from making that tweet, but this for sure was not it. Not even close.

You’d avoided Twitter along with all your social media playforms since that dreadful morning, as well. You were just too overwhelmed with all the notifications and messages you’d been receiving ever since. Far too many to ever read, let alone even keep up with. Nor did you want to see what any of them actually said.

You sigh, trying to focus back on your computer monitor. You were currently at work, hiding out in your cubicle and keeping your head down.

At the moment you worked as a writer for a news and entertainment website, much like Buzzfeed but nowhere near as large or well known—And I know! Ironic right? Uuuugh! Your damn life was just such a joke.

Your cubicle neighbour, Tyler, springs up over your divider wall. His arms resting on the top as his chin sits on them, a small frown on his face. So this obviously isn’t going to be good.

“Do I even want to know?” You ask quietly before he can utter a word.

He sighs, “probably not. But sadly you kinda have to know.”

“Okay,” you spun slightly in your chair to face him fully. “I’m ready, lay it on me.”

“The boss saw your tweets,” he starts and you wince in embarrassment. “He messaged me as your email keeps sending his messages back undelivered. So you should probably check into that, but first, he wants to see you in his office.”

You groan, dropping your forehead onto your desk with a thud, “my email has been so swamped the last few days that I shut down the receiver.”

“Understandable,” he says quietly, and you can hear that the frown is still present on his face.

“Does he want to see me now?” You peek up at him.

He nods, “yeah, said it was urgent.”

“Shit,” you mumble and sit up, grabbing a notebook and pen quickly as you stand from your chair. “Well, wish me luck, hopefully he doesn’t just fire me the second I walk through the door.”

Tyler shakes his head, “he’d be an even bigger idiot than we all currently think he is, if he did that. Don’t sweat it, at worst he’ll probably just throw a tantrum and give you a slap on the wrist.”

“On second thought, I think I’ll just quit instead,” you say playfully as you walk out of your cubicle. Hearing Tyler’s deep chuckle behind you as you do.

“But then who will keep me entertained everyday?”

“You’ll find someone,” you giggle, shrugging. “My replacement, most likely. Though sadly they will never be as awesome as me!”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he agrees as he lowers back down into his chair and you continue on towards your bosses office.

A moment later you find yourself standing outside of his closed door, notepad clutched to your chest. You have no idea what this impromptu meeting will be about, but you can only assume it has something to do with your stupid drunken posts.

You take a deep breath in, raising your fist up to knock on the door. And a moment later hearing a muffled and authoritative, “enter.” God, he really was just such an entitled asshole.

You open the door and peek your head in, “you wanted to see me, Sir?”

He glances up and nods, “ah, Y/N. Yes, come in.”

You quickly open the door and make your way into his office, closing the door and then hastily moving to stand in front of him.

He interlocks his fingers together and rests his hands on his desk, just staring at you. “Why isn’t your email working?”

“Oh, uh,” you shift awkwardly in your spot. “I um, I shut it off for a bit.” You nod, “just till I could get caught up on the emails I already have.”

He raises a brow at you, “your email is being swamped with messages, I take it?”

You nod again, “ah yes, Sir.”

“Does that have anything to do with the tweets you sent out last week?”

You almost groan, almost, but manage to contain it. “It—it does, Sir.”

He nods, glancing to his monitor, “now normally, foolish shenanigans such as this would be grounds for termination. And I was going to fire you for the embarrassment you’ve brought on this company, but I had a change of heart. So you won’t be losing your position just yet.”

You nod slowly, wishing you could give this idiot a piece of your mind. But your need to pay bills and have a job forces you to bite your tongue. “Oh, um, thank you, Sir.”

“But,” he flicks his beady eyes back to you, “you will have to make this up to me.”

You almost gulp, what the hell does that even mean?! “Um, how,” you clear your throat, “how exactly would you like me to do that?”

He leans back in his chair, a smirk on his lips. One that instantly causes a chill to run down your spin, and this time you do gulp. “There is a press conference in 3 days. You are going to attend it on behalf of our website.”

You nod, following along so far, and honestly this doesn’t sound so bad. Getting to be at a conference first hand is a huge accomplishment. Being trusted enough to be the one present is a big deal in this company. Normally only seasoned writers get to attend such functions.

Yet, something about this feels...off. Like there is a shoe about to drop nearby and you can’t shake that thought. “Okay, um of course, Sir. But what is the press release for, exactly?”

His smirk grows into a full blown grin and your heart rate picks up instantly because of it. “I’m so glad you should ask,” he nods, “It's a press conference for the Avengers. They are opening their new facility and are holding a press junket to cut the rope and answer some questions.”

And instantly you choke on air, no joke, then coughing a few times to clear your airway. Because oh fuck. Fuckity fucking fuck fuck. Why you?! Why does life always do this to you?!

“Um, Sir,” you start quietly once you stop coughing. “I don’t um—this is not to say that I’m not completely honoured that you’d choose me for this job. But uh, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to send me to this. Not with everything currently going on, at least.” You swallow thickly, your hands turning clammy as your nerves pick up. “There, ah, there has to be someone more qualified to send to this event. Ya know, someone other than me.”

He shakes his head, “there isn’t. And even if there was, I can’t send anyone else. You were specifically asked for by name, we weren’t even originally supposed to attend this press release. Only larger media outlets were invited.” He opens his top drawer in his desk and pulls out an access pass on a lanyard, holding it out to you. You gingerly step forward to take it then take a few hasty steps back once it’s in your grasp. “You were the only one invited, and were given an all access pass for the whole event.”

You gaped at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as you glance between your boss and the press pass currently in your hand. “But ah,” you shake your head, “why me?”

He shrugs, “probably because of those silly posts you made. You clearly caught someone's attention. So get to work, you have a press conference to prepare for,” he dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

But you just stay firmly planted in your spot, “Sir, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Oh but it is.” His eyes shoot to you and narrow, “so you either attend that conference or I’ll fire you. We are making the most out of your blunder here, don’t mess this up. You only have one shot at this, and I expect the article from this to not only be outstanding, but also on my desk Monday morning. This is the break our website needs, but if you aren’t willing to pull your weight and fix your mistakes, then we don’t have a place here for you anymore. So it’s your choice, Miss Y/L/N.”

You sigh defeatedly, and nod, “okay, I’ll do it.”

“I figured you would,” he nods once then turns back to his computer screen. “Close the door behind you.”

You nod, spinning on your heels and exit the room. Shutting the door softly behind you like he’d asked and then heading back to your desk to start preparing for this press conference.

But all you can think about is how truly mortifying this whole week has already been. And it’s clearly only going to get worse from here on out. How do you get yourself into these things? Now someone from the Avengers team has specifically requested that you be there. Great.

Were they planning to embarrass you further? Were they going to make a mockery of you because of a stupid drunken mistake? Were you going to regret accepting this article instead of just quitting?

You glance down at the press pass in your hand and sigh, there is no way to know currently just how this will all play out. But sadly, you’ll be finding out the answers to your questions soon enough. And in a little less than 3 days, at that.

You stand in front of your full length mirror—wearing the seventeenth outfit you’ve tried on so far this morning—and trying desperately to find faults with it. In all honesty, all the outfits you’ve tried on had looked perfectly fine and would have worked. But you were determined to stall, to waste as much time on pointless outfit changes as you could, so that you didn’t have to face your reality.

That reality being that today was the day, today was the Avengers press conference at the new facility. And oh God, how you really did not want to have to do this today.

I mean, the moon wasn’t in the right placement. Nor was Jupiter currently aligned. And your horoscope had warned you about ‘life changing events should you venture out of your box.’ And you could only assume said life changing events weren’t going to be good ones, and this was very much venturing outside of your box. Plus like, you just had this strange gut feeling, something deep inside you telling you that something was going to happen today—And one should always trust their gut in true times of crisis.

So really, that was all to say that this was a horrible idea, and you should probably just stay home. Yeah, it’s settled then, you’ll stay home. That was a much smarter plan for sure.

Your hired car pulls up to the large, intimidating steel and glass structure and you instantly feel like you’re going to puke. And if the hired car didn’t charge you your first born for doing just that, you’d gladly probably have puked in this exact moment. It comes to a stop and you thank the driver before collecting up your belongings and climbing out.

Glancing around you notice a bunch of people hanging about, some with large camera’s around their necks, others with microphones. But all are wearing various passes, some look similar to yours, however none match it entirely. Your hand grabs on to the pass around your neck and pulls it away from your body to examine it more closely.

Yeah, yours is the only one like it, that you can currently see. Which yeah, that’s extremely odd, for sure. You release the pass, letting it fall back to your chest and head towards the check in booth, just wanting to get this all over with so you can promptly go home and die of humiliation in your bed. Alone and away from the world.

You give one of the ladies at the table your full name and instantly notice a wicked smirk appear upon her lips as she hears it. Which honestly can’t be a good sign for what’s to come. No, this is a sign you should probably just leave now. The universe is clearly trying to warn you, but your dumb, job needing ass can’t leave. No matter how much you desperately want to.

She hands you a map, pointing to the location where you will be standing for the conference. Then she points behind herself, in the direction you are to head and you mumble a quick thank you before heading the way she showed you.

As you make your way to the location, you continuously glance between the map in your hands and the area around you. The last thing you need right now is to get lost on this insanely large property, and end up missing the press release all together. Oh God, your boss would pitch a fit if that happened.

Your heels click on the cement ground, thankful you aren’t trudging it through grass at the moment. Heels and grass do not mix, and with your luck you’d probably end up twisting an ankle or snapping a heel. And the last thing you want right now is to draw unwanted attention to yourself. Ya know, more so than you already have.

You glance down at the outfit you’d finally begrudgingly decided on, choosing to stick to basic shades to help you blend in a little better. No fancy or colourful prints or shades today. No, blacks and whites was what you went with. Hoping that most of the other press members would be dressed similarly. And with one glance around you, that hope actually came true.

You’d decided to go with a black pleather pencil skirt, that was form fitting but also flattering to all your softer areas. With a long sleeve white shirt tucked into it, and simple black pumps. It was a pretty basic look, but that’s exactly what you were going for. You wanted to blend in, praying none of the Avengers or press would even noticed you, let alone figured out you were the drunken Twitter tweeter.

God, doesn’t that just sound so stupid? The ‘Twitter tweeter’. Just ridiculous. And to think, this is your life now! This is who you are now. Seriously, the next time you drink, you are going to leave your phone at work. As you clearly can’t be trusted with it when you’re intoxicated.

As you make your way closer to the spot the nice lady had shown you, you realize that you are the only one in this location. All the other press are further down, in front of the stage, whereas your place is off to the side. It has a perfect view of the stage, but there is nothing and no one to hide behind.

You halt your steps, and even though it’s a beautiful sunny day, you feel a cold sweat come on. Are they segregating you? Are they going to make an example out of you? Or treat you like some circus clown?

You know these thoughts are ridiculous, these are world heroes we’re talking about here. Good people who put their lives on the line everyday for everyone else. But maybe they are going to force you into speaking to the press, maybe they are going to use you for good PR. Your stupid tweets are the hot topic at the moment, everyone is wanting the inside scoop on you, your life and your possible new affiliation with the mighty team.

But being in the spotlight isn’t your thing, you like to be unknown, anonymous. Just another face in the crowd. And if this is an ambush, then take you the fuck off that sign up list. You are not interested in this being spun around on you. Fuck that.

You turn on your heel and head back to the main press area, you’d just hide out there amongst all the other reporters and journalists. At least you could hang in the back and keep your head down while you take notes.

You might be overthinking this. Or be acting a little too irrational at the moment. But cut yourself some slack, this week has been hellish and overwhelming, to say the least. And your poor frazzled mind is in overdrive mode, overthinking the smallest things and making you a bit of a basket case. Clearly you don’t handle stressors like this very well. That’s obviously a flaw of yours, but one you very much do not plan on addressing today. Or ever, maybe. But definitely not here and now.

You reach the main press area and tuck yourself into a back row chair, lowering your large black purse onto the ground and digging through it to grab your notebook, recorder, pens and your phone. You’d record the whole press release, taking notes and photos here and there. Then when it was all over you planned to hightail it out of here, long before anyone noticed you. Hopefully. That was the plan anyways.

You glance around, noticing a few nearby press members staring intently at you. God, you hope none of them cause a scene and point you out. You quickly glance up at the stage, seeing that it is still empty and none of the team is up there yet. So you drop your eyes down and decide to just doodle in your notebook till the junket begins.

Time seems to be ticking along at an alarmingly slow pace. Probably just because you are so desperate for this to all be over, therefore it’s doing the opposite now. The minutes currently feeling like hours to you.

Finally, after weeks of waiting—at least you swear it’s been that long. You hear commotion up on the stage, and notice as everyone around you is seated now, taking photos. You grab your phone and flick your eyes up to the stage, seeing the mighty group of heroes slowly ascending the stairs and fanning out on the platform.

You snap a few shots and then prepare your recorder, hitting the button to start it once Tony Stark makes his way to the microphone. You balance the recorder on your left leg, your notebook open on your light and pen at the ready. Your phone sitting in between both legs, fully charged, set to silent and camera app open.

The conference starts with Tony doing a speech, thanking everyone for being here and just general PR stuff. You are sort of paying attention, but also not. You know that you can always listen to the recording later if you miss any part of this conference, so there isn’t a huge weight on you to be fully listening currently.

So instead, you get lost in your own mind, continuing to berate and chide yourself for your horrible life choices. Ya know, all the ones that led up to this very moment. You keep your eyes down for most of the event, only glancing up periodically to snap a few more photos here and there. But then they flick back down to continue doodling in your notebook.

On the plus side, the grassy, flowery meadow you have been drawing this whole time is looking wonderful. Even if it’s only in all blue and black pen ink. But focusing on this is better than possibly locking eyes with the poor victim of your latest drunk tweets. You know he is up there, because they all are. And the last thing you want is to look at him currently. Your immense guilt and humiliation preventing you from even entertaining the idea of ogling the handsome man right now. Not even a little bit, no matter how badly you want to. No matter how much you want to see just how attractive he is in person. You can’t allow yourself to.

You don’t even really deserve to be here right now, the only reason you are, is because drunk you is a sappy asshole. Had you not posted those stupid tweets, you wouldn’t have been invited here today. God, how you wish you had a time machine right now.

You’d made a bunch of mistakes throughout your life, I mean, who hasn’t? But this one was by far the worst, you were definitely paying for this one. Tenfold. Maybe this is the wake up call drunk-you needs though. Hopefully she will have learned her lesson from all of this. Buuuuuut knowing her, probably not.

You sigh, picking up your phone to take a few more photos as the time nears to the official opening of the facility. To the rope cutting, which is the true reason you are all here today. You keep your eyes on your phones screen, but movement off to the side of the stage catches your eyes and they snap from the screen to it.

They lock with a greyish blue set, and you see the owner of said eyes glance over your face momentarily, before a smirk breaks out on his lips. Bucky Barnes aka The Winter Soldier aka Steve Roger’s lifelong best friend. You are currently having a stare off with an ex hydra assassin, and an insanely good one at that.

You are just about to break the eye contact when you notice him elbow the blonde super soldier to his right. Leaning in once he has the other man's attention and whispering something in his ear, before his head nods in your direction. Oh God, this also can’t be fucking good.

The blonde furrows his brows for a moment, his eyes scanning the crowd before they land on you. And the second your eyes meet, you are fucking trapped. Because, Jesus! This man is basically a human bear trap, and your ass just willing stepped right on to it.

Greeeeeat. Now you’re having a stare off with thee Steve Rogers. Just exceptional. Note the extreme sarcasm.

And then you notice as he frowns, most likely now realizing you are the crazy lady who tweeted about him. He snaps his eyes away from you, turning to glare at his best friend. Who only grins wider in return and then shrugs his shoulders before nodding his head to the billionaire at the podium. Mr. Roger’s heated gaze then flicks to the side of Mr. Stark’s head, narrowing a little more and honestly, if looks could kill, everyone here today would be witnesses to a murder. To the death of Iron Man, at the eyes of Captain America.

And oh fuck, this is not going well. So much for going unnoticed. You can’t do this, you can’t be here any longer. This is all just too much and you want to go home.

You quickly pack up your belongings, throwing them haphazardly into your large purse. As the tears of humiliation begin prickling in your eyes. What did you do to deserve any of this? Clearly you fucked up in a past life and now you were paying for it in this one.

Your eyes involuntarily glance back up to the stage, tears threatening to fall but you try to force them to hold off until you are away from this place. Away from all the prying eyes. The last thing you need is photos of you crying like a baby, at the Avengers new facility opening, to start circulating the internet and only adding fuel to the fire.

They’d probably play it up like you were this insanely huge fan, and just being here made your crazy come out to play. Bawling your eyes out for just being here, in the presence of the hero you so clearly had lady wood for. But yet, that wasn’t it at all. You know most of these people were probably too focused on Mr. Stark to even notice the moment between the super soldiers. You’re pretty sure you were the only one who actually did see it.

Your eyes lock once again on the intense pair of blue ones, finding yourself momentarily trapped all over again. Then his eyebrows furrowing snaps you out of it, thankfully, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek. You quickly wipe it away as you turn and hastily make for the press area exit.

You don’t look back, you can’t bare to see the relief probably on Mr. Rogers face now. He is probably thankful you are leaving early. He probably never wanted to actually see you in the flesh. He probably thinks you are just some ridiculous, crazed fan who went out of her way to either try to get noticed by him, or boost her career via the exposure.

God, how far from the truth that actually was. But not like you’d ever get the chance to prove that to anyone now. You vow in this exact moment to delete your twitter the second you get into the Uber. Like completely deactivate your whole account. Then you’d have no way to embarrass yourself ever again. At least not publicly, not in front of the entire world.

As you reach the spot where the hired car had dropped you off, you pull out your phone and open your Uber app. You had a hired car set up to pick you up later on, for when the press release was supposed to be over. But as it was still early and now only over for just you, you needed a ride and fast.

You begin filling out the order, hastily walking down the laneway towards the main road. Like hell were you going to stay standing on the facilities grounds any longer. Risking being seen or stopped by random press members. You’d just meet the car down the road a bit. That was the best plan here.

But as you are making your hasty get away, you hear fast footfalls coming up behind you. And you cringe slightly, too nervous to turn around and see who is coming towards you currently. You pray it’s just someone running to meet their car. Maybe one of the press people has an emergency and needs to leave early because of it?

“Hey, hold up,” a deep voice calls from behind you, effectively killing that last thought dead in its tracks. Much like you wish would happen to you right now. If you could just drop dead in this moment, you totally would. You didn’t have suicidal thoughts, ever, but in this exact moment, you’d take any out you could get. The sheer humiliation of this week finally crashing down on you.

You sigh, quickly wiping your cheeks of the few tears that refused to stay put in your eyes, and slowly turn around as the footsteps near you and come to a deafening halt. You know whoever it is, is now only a few feet away from you and there is no avoiding this awkward situation any longer.

You instantly realize the person now standing mere feet from you, is the very last person you want to be anywhere near right now. Even with keeping your eyes down, focused entirely on the ground so that whoever the person ended up being wouldn’t see the tears, now in your eyes. You still instantly know that it’s Steve Rogers, the newest and current victim of your drunken praise, and it now takes everything in you to not start rambling out a ridiculous apology, while also bawling your eyes out.

A heavy silence looms over you, starting to feel as if you are being crushed by it. You take a deep breath, keeping your eyes honed in on the cement ground. “I um, I’m really, really sorry,” you start, the words coming out raspy from your unused and tear tingled voice. The volume barely above a whisper so you quickly clear your throat, “I shouldn’t have come here today. I ah, I didn’t want to ever make you feel uncomfortable in any way. And I guess I just need to apologize to you for my ridiculous antics last week. And ah, and for stupidly agreeing to come to this junket. I’ll just um,” you glance over your shoulder momentarily. “I’ll just be going now,” you finally glanced up at him, as you gesture with your thumb over your shoulder and take a step back. “Sorry again, for um, for everything.”

But holy fuck, he is so much better looking than you could have ever imagined. Up close and personal he is a freaking dream boat—Argh! You have no right to ogle this man! Give your damn head a shake. You are the very last person on this planet who is allowed to fangirl over him right now.

You quickly turn and continue to hastily make your way towards the road, not even giving him a moment to respond to your words. You don’t need him to say anything back though, he doesn’t owe you a damn thing. You are the dick that brought this all on to not only in yourself, but this poor man as well.

You got the chance to apologize to him, which is more than you could have ever asked for. Now you just want this all to be over. You just want to go home and pretend like this entire week never happened. He can go back to his normal life, and you to yours.

God, you could really use a stiff drink right now, but that’s what got you into this whole mess in the first place. So that’s probably not the smartest idea at the moment. So instead you’ll settle for a giant tub of ice cream and a lengthy, tear filled, phone call with your bestie.

“Wait,” he says softly, probably so he doesn’t startle you any further, as you feel a large warm hand grasp your elbow, urging you to turn back around.

You clench your eyes shut, why can’t this just all be over already?! Why you?! You take a deep stuttering breath in then open your eyes and turn to face him again. He releases your elbow as you do and then you awkwardly lock eyes with him once again.

One of his large hands comes up to rub the back of his neck, the action almost looking sheepish. Clearly he also has a few words for you, and whatever they are you’ll totally deserve them. Even if they are chastising you for your stupid posts. So you quickly steel yourself for what’s about to come.

“I ah, I wasn’t—“ he pauses then quickly corrects himself, “I’m not uncomfortable about you being here,” he shakes his head, “not at all. I just—firstly, I just wanted to apologize to you, actually. I know they probably forced you to be here today, I don’t really know how, but judging by your reaction to all of this, I’m guessing you really had no say in being here.“ He sighs deeply, “I had no idea that they’d actually invited you, so I can only assume that Tony played a huge hand in all of this. He really likes to insert himself into other people's lives, so I apologize that you got dragged into this. He doesn’t really know when to butt out.”

You nod slowly as you glance down to the ground again, “it’s okay. You really don’t owe me anything, I honestly brought this all on myself. I um, I don’t blame anyone else for any of this, but thank you for saying all of that.” You look back up at him, “it really helps to hear. This week has just been—“ you cut yourself off with a deep sigh, as you wave a dismissive hand around, “sorry, that’s really not important. Um, just basically thank you, ya know, for easing my mind with all of this.”

He frowns a little, but quickly corrects it. And you still just honestly want this all to be done with. But he looks like he still has more to say, so looks like your hopes will go unanswered this time. And just as you suspected he speaks up again.

He shakes his head, “don’t mention it, but I should really be the one thanking you.”

Awe, isn’t that just so dang sweet of him—wait, what?! I’m sorry, come again?! Your eyes widen as your mouth falls open slightly. You imagine it’s a super attractive look—note the sarcasm again—but you honestly can’t bring yourself to care about that at the moment. Because what did he just say?

Your eyebrows furrow after far too long of a moment with you just gaping up at him. “I’m sorry if this is rude, but um, why exactly would you owe me a thank you?”

He smiles down at you, then quickly glances over his shoulder before looking back to you. “I’ll explain all that, but first, can I show you something?”

You find yourself nodding before you’ve even realized it. “Um, yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, great. Just uh, just follow me then,” he says through a hesitant smile as he leads you off and away from the gathering. You aren’t sure where exactly he is taking you, but for the first time all week, you aren’t worried at all. Probably because this is Steve Rogers, the man out of time, and a true gentleman, in every sense of the word.

And maybe, just maybe, your hellish week that all began thanks to one stupid drunk moment, might just end on a way better note. Maybe your Drunk Twitter escapades weren’t all bad. Maybe they weren’t entirely horrible.

But honestly who really knows, you’d just have to wait and find out.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Part 2 of this, from Steve POV, will be coming sometime this week! So stay tuned for that!

@caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @ivannagotthebeat @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @steverogersxreader @cjhorseback @jasminecalia @secondstar2disney @jessiedaeum @betsynodak @capricornprince118

[toomuchchelsea]

MASTERLIST

So, I know some of you haven’t been able to access the masterlist on the tumblr app on your phones and I’m trying to figure out how to solve that issue.

For now, enjoy this up-to-date masterlist in post form!

*also didn’t realize how much mase and chris content there is but wowza, I am both elated and terrified by it, so thank you for sending in amazing requests that I love to write💙

TAMMY ABRAHAM

telling tammy you’re pregnant

tammy taking care of you after you overwork yourself

you getting shy and hiding behind tammy when he introduces you as his girlfriend to his mates

KEPA ARRIZABALAGA

you and kepa babysitting eden’s kids (part 1)

you and kepa get pregnant and eden’s so happy (part 2)

supporting kepa during a bad game

kepa getting his wisdom teeth taken out and being all needy on you

kepa waking up before you to clean up the flat after a party and waking you up with cuddles

kepa whistling at you after seeing you in a hot dress and the Spain NT guys tease him about it

exhaustedly falling asleep on top of kepa after you two return home from a friend’s wedding

sneaking out of a sleepover you and kepa host to go get some food in the middle of the night

trying to do an assignment in bed but kepa keeps distracting you with kisses and cuddles

kepa being squishy with you and getting teased by his teammates

TRENT ALEXANDER-ARNOLD

dating trent includes

trent seeing you in a depressive state

riding trent (smut)

you get in a fight with trent, find comfort in a teddy he gave you and let hendo lecture him and telling him to fix it

getting into an argument with trent during a night out and not wanting to go in the car with him so you say you’ll walk but he refuses to leave you there

falling asleep after trying to stay up to surprise trent with some sexy lingerie

trent wakes you up from a bad nightmare

trent’s turn-ons and kinks (smut)

MARCO ASENSIO

being in a flirty friendship with marco before you two finally admit your feelings for each other

you and marco playing a dumb game of “who can last the longest without talking to the other person” while you have friends over

you and marco being all cuddly and squishy and getting teased by friends

having a pillowfight with marco at a friends’ sleepover

hide and seek with marco and his teammates

you and marco buying stuff at the shops for your visit to eden’s house

DOMINIC CALVERT-LEWIN

DCL coming home to find you in bed facing away from him wearing his jersey with his name on the back and a pair of panties

jealous DCL

losing DCL in a crowd and getting panicky and scared

first time having sex with DCL (smut)

DCL getting protective over you when someone hits on you at the club

BEN CHILWELL

dating chilly includes

ERIC DIER

you’re a famous singer and you announce your relationship with eric after a match

OLIVIER GIROUD

arguing with olivier after he believes he played a bad game

EDEN HAZARD

you and eden aren’t allowed near each other during RM movie nights but you two always sneak around anyway

traveling with the team and eden is a big fan of airport pda

snowball fight with eden and his teammates

falling asleep on eden’s lap at a sleepover

supporting eden during his first RM game with his sons

CALLUM HUDSON-ODOI

birthday sex with CHO

MATS HUMMELS

lazy winter mornings

REECE JAMES

you and reece getting set up on a date by friends

you and reece are friends but he realizes his feeling for you when you wear his jersey to one of his games

RUBEN LOFTUS-CHEEK

dating ruben includes

hide and seek with ruben and your chelsea mates

being on holiday with ruben and the paps snap pictures of you two on a boat

you’re a famous singer and you announce your relationship with ruben after a match

you meet ruben’s family for the first time

ruben dating a latina

having a baby boy with ruben who looks exactly like him

you’re a famous singer and ruben surprises you on karpool karaoke after not seeing you for a while

teasing ruben by flirting with his brother

you and ruben do a couples quiz for vogue

MASON MOUNT

dating mason includes

late night drives

walking in on mase watching porn (smut)

riding mason’s thigh (smut)

your and mason’s sex song (smut)

one of mason’s teammates walking in on you having sex (smut)

mason fucking you while you wear his jersey (smut)

dancing seductively with mason during a chelsea event

mason’s turn-ons

you get defensive when you see a girl trying to flirt with mase in the club

mason’s kinks

matching tattoos with mason

mason rapping “final fantasy” to you and he’s teasing case y'all fuck regularly to this song, and your friends are filming it

mason looking after you whilst you’re 8 months pregnant

mason catching you fingering yourself in the morning next to him (smut)

mason coming home to see you passed out with his hoodie on

overhearing mason call you missus during an interview

mason drooling over you in a bikini

mason getting jealous then protective when he sees a guy harassing you at the club

nutmegging mason in training and play-fighting with him as ruben films it all

fans noticing that mason’s lock screen is you and freaking out

mason gives you a necklace with his name on it and kisses it before every match

being late to pick mason up from training and he teases you but takes it too far

cheering mason up after he has a bad match

mason has a nightmare in which you died

taking care of mason following a bad match

mason whispering sweet nothings into your ear to help you fall asleep

mason proposes to you, even though a lot of fans think you’re both too young

mason not knowing you’re a good artist and completely in awe when he sneaks up on you and sees you sketching him

mason and your chelsea mates finding out you’re an amazing singer

mason and you jamming to kygo’s version of often in the car and ruben filming it for the world to see

fluffy and smutty playlists for mason (part 1) (part 2)

mason singing “no guidance” to you in the club and tammy catching the whole thing on film

mason always carrying you around on his back cause you’re tiny

babysitting with mason

first time with mase (smut)

you and mase play fighting and he accidentally gets a boner

you have a relapse

you leave nail marks on mason’s back and he gets teased by the lads

you and mase talking dirty and ruben teases you two about it

the morning after with mason

having big boobs and mase and the boys getting distracted by them

overhearing mason talk about you two being childhood sweethearts during the filming of a chelsea documentary

mason surprising you with a group trip to dubai for your birthday (smut)

mason wanting to put a red room in your new penthouse

ice skating with mason but you’re horrible so he’s teaching you

giving mason a lap dance to your sex song and then getting hot and heavy in the bathroom of the club (smut)

wearing matching pajamas with mason during a movie night with the boys

mason giving you his hoodie when he sees you shivering at dinner after a game

wearing a backless dress to a chelsea event and not noticing mason’s nail marks on your back

mason announcing your pregnancy in a celebration after scoring a goal in a match

mason surprising you on valentine’s day with rose petals all over your house

mason taking care of you when you’re on your period

always calling mason papi to tease him and being absolutely shook when he called you mamas/mami

getting into a car crash and mason finds out during a match

mason and you joining the mile high club on the chelsea jet (smut)

cuddles with mase, ignoring all the teasing coming from the boys

you and mason getting married abroad

mase giving you his blazer during a cold night out and giving you cuddles and kisses while you two chat with the lads

being in a clingy mood in the morning and not wanting mason to go to training

leaking at mason’s and he takes care of you

a player is being super pervy towards you and both you and mason shred him in half

mason celebrating his goal with you on the sidelines

mason and you go to your favorite artist’s concert

going ice skating with mason and he’s shocked at how incredible you are at it

mason eating you out (smut)

having a panic attack on the sidelines on a match and mason stops playing and runs over to you

a group of girls try to flirt with mason and insult you and he gets protective and goes off on them

mason being absolutely shocked when he hears you sing loudly for the first time

inside jokes with mason, you two always mumbling “kiss me” to one another anytime you want a kiss

fans loving how open you and mason are about your sex life when they see an interview where you two are asked about it

mason walking around the house without a shirt on and teasing the hell out of you

you having a thing for mason’s accent

mason talking to you at night to help with your insomnia

mason and you rapping and dancing wildly to a song in the car and tammy films it

the boys posting on their stories about you and mase falling asleep on each other

taking mason with you to get your nails done

mason teasing you at dinner with your dad and 7 brothers

mason giving you a back rub

you have a big ass and it distracts mason and the boys

being a good singer and going bowling + karaoke with mase and the lads

mason taking care of drunken you in your clingy + horny state

walking down the stairs in Mason’s shirt from last night and seeing him cooking you breakfast

you and mase aren’t allowed near each other during sleepovers with the lads but you try to sneak around it anyway

surprising mason with a puppy

being part of little mix and dating mason

being worried about mason getting injured during the chelsea-norwich game

mason being an exhibitionist (but make it funny)

fucking mason in a VS dressing room (smut)

mason gets seriously injured so you take care of him and hear him tell ruben “she’s the one I’m gonna marry”

having sex with mase while you’re pregnant (smut)

birthday sex with mase (his birthday) (smut)

dancing to jp cooper’s “the only reason” at your and mason’s wedding

inviting christian into the bedroom with you and mason (smut)

you being brought up in mason and declan’s roommate video

mason getting injured :(

mason having your name on his boots

mason wearing your uni hoodie while out running errands and he’s asked about it in an interview

you and mason “arguing” because you like spicy food and he doesn’t

you post a cutesy video of you and mason and it goes viral

telling mason you want an ice lolly to suck on and he says “I have something you can suck”

mason dedicating a goal to you by kissing his ring finger

sharing a photo of you and mase when you were younger and everyone is gushing over your relationship

trying to get mason to relax before a big game

you and mason are long distance but one day you surprise him with a house you bought for you two in london

you and mason dress up as bonnie and clyde for halloween

mason comforting you as you’re literally crying in pain

mason dancing close to you to hide your body from the gazes of creepy guys at clubs

mason secretly learning spanish so he can call you cute foreign nicknames

you accidentally post a video of mason whispering something dirty in your ear

declan noticing the love marks mason gave you on your hips and neck

mason playing with your fingers whenever he gets nervous

telling mason you’re pregnant on christmas day

mason helping you through bulimia

someone makes a racist remark about you being latina and mason stands up for you

drunk mase being super clingy + horny

mason taking care of you after you get drunk on a girls’ night out

you and mason fucking in a hotel room with tammy in the best next to you (smut)

tammy seeing your initial hickeys on mason’s chest

wearing mason’s chelsea jersey to support him during a match even though you’re a man u fan

you’re a singer and you cover ariana grande’s chrismas n chill, teasing mase with the more sexual songs

cockwarming with mason (smut)

mase and the lads watching you do the bushtucker trial on gogglebox

you being on i’m a celeb and getting your letter from mason

riding mason for the first time and it’s the best he’s ever had (smut)

CHRISTIAN PULISIC

dating chris includes

marriage with chris includes

chill day at home together

amusement park with friends

walking in on chris watching porn (smut)

señorita - shawn mendes

comforting puli after super cup loss

riding christian (smut)

you’re a doctor and you’ve been paged and you see christian hurt low-key badly and he’s completely ignoring his injury and flirting while you fix him up

dom pulisic edging you on all night (smut)

injured puli’s gf peeved and telling him off until she sees he might need surgery

christian sees you in a depressive state and asks what he can do to help

sex at a wedding (smut)

chris makes you cry during a fight and immediately regrets it

being a famous singer and dating chris, he comes to calm you down when you have a panic attack during a performance

3 am drives with chris

puli’s kinks

you get defensive when you see a girl trying to flirt with chris in the club

late night walks with puli

thanksgiving with chris (smut)

chris’ turn-ons

calling christian to get coffee at 3 am

chris loses a bet to you and has to get a pedicure while you film it

overthinking and chris kisses you to shut you up

christian tying you up (smut)

chris’ mom telling you embarrassing childhood stories about him

your and chris’ first christmas together

being a youtuber and filming a video with chris

chris taking care of you when you’re on your period

telling christian you have a mental illness

chris sleeps in the guest room after a fight but you can’t sleep without him so you crawl into bed with him

chris fucking you while you wear his jersey (smut)

chris taking care of you while you’re drunk

teasing christian all weekend and when he comes home, y'all get rough (smut)

chris catching you fingering yourself in the morning next to him (smut)

chris gets you a necklace with his name on it and kisses it before every match

being on holiday with chris and the paps snap pictures of you on a boat

christian finding out you’re pregnant (part 1)

christian handles your pregnancy cravings like a champ (part 2)

chris taking your virginity (smut)

aftercare with chis after a rough night

christian not knowing you’re a good artist and completely in awe when he sneaks up on you and sees you sketching him

leaving nail marks on chris’ back and the lads tease him for it

chris eating you out (smut)

play fighting with chris

christian surprising you on your birthday

being sore after a night in bed with chris due to him being really big and you being really small

puli catching you dancing around with your dog as you cook food and finding it absolutely adorable

giving puli a lap dance

chris coming home and finding you passed out in his hoodie

drunk sex with chris (smut)

you get in a car crash and christian finds out during a match

being turned on by chris in a chelsea jersey even though you’re a bvb fan

festivals with chris

someone groping you in the club and christian is fuming

you and chris are best friends but you love him, you both get super drunk, end up having sex and revealing your feelings

calling chris papi and he gets turned on by it

sex in the car with chris (smut)

you have a panic attack around christian

chris watching you get yourself off (smut)

chris messing around with you during soundcheck

chris using sex toys on you

your short skirt bothering chris so he takes you home and bends you over the table (smut)

inviting christian into the bedroom with you and mason (smut)

you and chris have a private relationship but after a fight, he makes it public

being emotionally drained after a long day and puli takes care of you

puli with an american miss universe

christian playing with your guys’ son while you’re expecting baby #2

you have a really hard week and nearly faint but chris helps you

puli wants you to call him daddy (smut)

you go to visit chris in london and videos of your reunion end up online

going into labor when christian’s away for a match

getting into an argument with chris during a night out and not wanting to go in the car with him so you say you’ll walk but he refuses to leave you there

you’re the sister of one of christian’s friends and you two always bicker but one day he takes it too far and makes you cry before finally admitting he’s always liked you

you’re trying to get ready for work but chris is trying to convince you to call in sick and come back to bed and eventually you give in

puli snaps at you after a bad game and enlists the boys’ help to make it up to you

you’re a scouser and chris takes you home to meet his family who all gush over your accent

christian fingering you as you drive him around london (smut)

christian walking in on you watching porn (but make it funny)

someone makes a racist remark about you being latina and christian stands up for you

you’re a famous singer and christian surprises you on karpool karaoke after not seeing you for a while

christian dating an irish girl

christian taking an argument too far and only realizing it when you say “if you’re so unhappy, maybe we should break up”

overtimulation with chris (smut)

you and chris get into a fight but make up as you dance to michael buble’s “sway”

chris getting really worried about you when you get super sick

sitting in the stands with chris at the man u game while he’s injured

chris being super affectionate during a getaway trip

chris protecting you when a guy hits on you in the club

christian comforting you when you have a massive anxiety attack

quarantine gym session at home with chris

MARCO REUS

snow days

JADON SANCHO

constantly kissing jadon while he’s playing fifa

jadon sends you a video of him singing your sex song in the car and you put it on instagram with the caption “is this a dedication??”

jadon comforting you after you make your relationship public and get backlash over it

JOHN STONES

morning cuddles on days off

meeting john outside a nightclub in ibiza, he tries chatting you up, and you end up getting food together and talking the night away