#get yourself a friend who doesnt even blink when you want to drive across the city to a specific mural that matches your dogs name

[abirddogmoment]

Posing with murals

[hwangsies]

LIMERENCE

(n) the state of becoming infatuated with another person

pairing: hyunjin x female reader

summary: you haven’t spoken a word to hyunjin since he ghosted you after a fun new years eve together, so what’s the worst that could happen when fate (or chaeryong,...well, same thing) pairs you up for a road trip across the country?

warnings: e2l (ish), university student!au, non idol!au ,a lot of swearing. alcohol consumption,long flashback, mentions of infidelity, hyunjin is a giggly sweetheart, smut as in: dom!hyunjin, unprotected sex (wrap it up luvs),fingering, oral (f recieving), slight choking, praise kink, hand & strenght kink (manhandleing oopsie), slight overstimulation, hyunjin is really enthusiastic about consent (as you should be, periodt), reader is nervous and scared of hyunjins big pickle (ew i hate myself), motel sex (but it’s not trashy i promise!)

8.6 k words ,meaning grab a snack and a drink,

and enjoy!<3

---

"alright everyone" your professor rubs his hands together "that was it for today... i hope you all have a great break and i'm very exited to see all of you again next semester. hopefully in person again" he chuckles.

You and your classmates exchange goodbyes with him before one after the other exits the zoom call.

"fuck" you sigh after closing your laptop and lean back on your bed.

"you did it girl" your dormmate chaeryong claps, at which you giggle before shifting your eyes to her on the other side of the room.

She's sitting on her bed, folding her clothes before putting it in her suitcase thats placed in front of her.

"finally" you sit up and watch her roll up a pair of socks.

"my last class was yesterday and mrs kim teared up" she giggles "it was kinda cute not gonna lie"

"oh god" you snicker.

"hey did you find someone to take to yongin?" you ask, remebering chearyong talking about wanting to find someone to share gas expenses with in exchange for a ride to her hometown.

"oh yea, i did" she turn to you "i think you know him, seo changbin?"

You furrow your brows in thought, you feel like you've heard of the name.

"he's a music major, one year above us, hes also from yongin" she continues folding a pair of jeans "funny you'd ask actually cause he told me one of his friends was looking for a ride to seoul, isn't that where you're going?"

"Yea i was thinking about finding someone honestly because gas is really fucking expensive if you aint rich" you say, placing your laptop onto your nightstand.

"Mm you aint gotta tell me girl" chaeryong mumbles, folding a sweatshirt.

"so who's that friend?" you ask, stretching out on your bed.

"he's in his grade, hyunjin"

Your neck almost cracks from how fats you whip your head “hwang hyunjin?”

"Oh yea" she points at you "you know him?"

"unfortunately" you huff.

"o-oh, what"s the tea?" your roommate wiggles her brows at which you shake your head.

"nothing much really" you sigh, leaning back again "he's just like the most arrogant and stuck up fuckboy ever"

"wow, well thats not nothing" chaeryong laughs "any reason as to why you think that?"

"you could probably ask any girl on campus and she'll tell you the same" you scoff.

"really girl?" chaeryong squints an eye at you playfully "cause i've only heard of him being hot but never of him being a hoe. And you know i'm the first to know the hot gossip" she winks.

Laughing defeatedly, running your hand through your hair.

"it's just- we hit it off at the campus' new years eve party, like really hit it off- at least thats what i thought"

"oooh spill it spill it" chaeryong leaps over to your bed to sit at the end of it.

"well there's really not much to spill, i gave him my number and he was talking all that smack about taking me out and stuff aaand to make a long story short i never heard from him again"

"well" chaeryong speaks slowly, biting her lip guiltily "i dont think you'll be very happy about me giving changbin your number for him, then?"

"you did what???" your eyes almost pop out of your head.

"sooorryy" she jumps up from your bed, clutching her hands apologetically "i didnt know"

"aaaaarghh" you whine, burying your face in your pillow.

"maybe he won't even text you though" chaeryong tries to console you, but the damage is already done...

-

unknown number - hey i got this number from changbin, i heard you're driving up to seoul, i'd love to tag along if you're looking for someone to share expenses with -recieved at 9:12 am

You huff looking at the message on your phone.

After chaeryong had left last night you really convinced yourself that he couldn't possibly dare to reach out to you.

But here you are reading his message after just waking up, and your day is already ruined.

you - who is this? - sent at 9:56 am

You know who it is, but you're not going to give him the satisfaction of thinking that you do.

Scoffing when he answers almost immediately.

unknown number - this is hyunjin, did i reach the right person? - recieved at 9:57 am

You have two choices at this point.

1. be petty and bitter about a boy who probably doesn't even remember you.

Or 2. move on and help someone who is also just trying to get home and also maybe get some closure.

So you curse your mother for rasing you so well and suck it up.

you - yea sure, i planned on leaving tomorrow at around 6 pm - sent at 10:02 am

Damn you and your common human decency.

he sus - oh okay great :) i only have one suitcase and a backpack btw so i wont take up alot of space or anything - recieved at 10:05 am

he sus - also i feel weird bc i dont know ur name or anything changbin literally just sent me the number and nothing else lol, also 6 sounds good should we meet at the main building then? -sent at 10:06 am

You're quite honestly not shocked that he seems nice over text because he was the same when you met on new years eve.

you - sure lets meet at the main building, my car is white and my name is y/n - sent at 10:09 am

Cringing as you press the send button because you are 99% certain he won't answer anymore; not that you'd care, obviously.

he sus - alright y/n see you tomorrow at 6 then :) - recieved at 10:14 am

You raise your brows when your phone lights up with his message, does he really not remember you?

Was he that drunk?

Well, it doesnt matter because you don't want to pay for all this gas alone and he seems to be the next best option to fix that.

So you shrug it off and get out off bed to run some last errands and start packing.

-

Your heart is beating unreasonably fast when you take a turn towards the main building at 5:55 pm the next day.

Calm down y/n it’ll just be 5 hours and who says you have to talk to him?

However you do know deep in your heart that you only wanted to arrive just a little early so you could complain about him being late.

That plan got cut short because your eyes fall on him as you pull up to the main building.

He’s- oh my god he’s blonde. You stop your car and he looks up at you.

“it is you!” hyunjin smiles at you when you step out of the car.

“who else would it be?” you ask, a little irritated at his reaction.

His face drops a bit when he sees you clearly annoyed by him, but the doesn’t blame you; he’d be mad too.

You open your trunk for him to put his weirdly small suitcase into, looking him up and down as he lifts it inside.

He’s wearing dark baggy pants and a windbreaker jacket, the top part of his chin-length blonde hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail.

He seemed to have bulked up as well, shoulders looking broader than what you remember.

The hair is different than the jet black hair that you remember on him, but it suits him very well; to be honest he would look good in any hair colour, not that you’d care though.

The first thirty minutes of the ride go by agonizingly slow and in complete silence.

When you drive onto the freeway you can’t take it anymore and mumble something among the lines of ‘wanna listen to some music?’.

You don’t wait for an answer, pressing the radio button right as you finish your sentence.

“uh, actually” hyunjin starts, his hand lifting to turn the radio back off, your eyes snap towards him, is he serious? Turning off your radio in your car?

“I wanted to address this situation” he says rather quietly.

You scoff “what? You realized that this is awkward just now?”

“no- I mean- yes I understand why you would think that but I just really want a chance to explain myself” he stutters.

“explain yourself” you repeat after him before mumbling “sure because there’s so much to explain”

“listen, I know you think I’m an asshole who just ghosted you b-“

“listen, I can handle rejection, you could’ve just said that you weren’t looking for something serious and I would’ve accepted that. The thing I’m mad about though is you literally making false promises and shit” 

Hyunjin blinks at you “can I please just explain to you what happened?”

You let out a long huff “sure” you wave your hand “go ahead”

“when you and your friends left at around 4, you wrote your number on my arm with your eyeliner, correct?” he asks.

Glancing over at him, you nod.

“after you where gone, I was already pretty drunk but then my friends decided to drag me with them to a different party that was still going” you see him fiddling with his hands in your peripheral “well I got super fucking shitfaced at that party and ended up puking on this one guys shoes”

You raise your eyebrows and hold back a laugh, which he notices.

“its okay you can laugh” he chuckles as well.

“anyways that guy was not very happy about it and busted my lip before kicking me and my friends out, so then back in the dorm my roommate sat me in the shower because I was full of alcohol, blood and puke”

“ew” you chime in.

“and when I woke up the next morning your number was gone” hyunjin looks over at you “we don’t have any mutual friends, I didn’t know what your major is so I couldn’t even asks for you in the administrating office, and then the covid lockdown happened and here we are”

“you called the administrating office?” you look over at him, he nods a little smile on his stupid pretty lips.

“yep, so, sorry to tell you but your eyeliner is not waterproof” he jokes at which you playfully knit your brows at him.

“believe me, I wanted to text you. I really wanted to take you out; and when you sent me your name yesterday I didn’t know if this was a lucky coincidence or if you’re a different y/n, that’s why I didn’t say anything” he explains.

You take a deep breath as you realize you have to apologize for going off on him just now, you believe him but you hate apologizing.

“well, I feel like an ass for going off on you like that after hearing all this” you chuckle “I’m sorry” you eye him shortly before looking back on the road.

“it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize I get how it looked, very much sus” he laughs with you.

-

Coming back to your car after you took a bathroom break on a highway rest-stop, you see hyunjin sitting in the drivers seat.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you smile as you sit down on the passenger seat.

“I thought maybe you’d like to sleep since its dark already and you’ve been driving for almost 3 hours” he suggests while putting on his seatbelt.

“well, I wont say no to that” you shrug and put your seatbelt on as well.

“so when did you go blonde?” you ask curiously.

“uh- around end of june” hyunjin chuckles “it was a dare if I’m being honest but I ended up liking it and got it redone”

“oh okay” you check out his profile once more and follow his hair with your eyes “I like it”

“yea?”

“yea, which is weird cause I’m usually not into blondes at all” you wonder.

“hm” he grins “must be me then” he says before winking at you.

“pfff, in your dreams” you rebuttal playfully, at which he laughs and mumbles a ‘true’.

You don’t react to it because you think your ears are playing tricks on you.

“hey I have a question too” hyunjin says.

“what’s up” you lean your arm against the window as you look over at him.

His face is slightly lit by the lights of the other cars, no seriously, how can a side profile be so perfect?

“why did you even agree to take me with you if you thought I ghosted you?” he grins.

You laugh “well, I’m a nice person and I know not a lot of people there are from seoul and my mom raised me right, okay?”

“okay okay” he giggles, the way his eyes crinkle when he does makes you smile everytime.

“or…did you have such a good time with me on new years that you just had to jump on this opportunity?” he quips, carefully stealing a peek at you.

“sure, why do you think I was so upset when you didn’t text” you feign sadness.

The both of you laugh before falling into comfortable silence.

When looking outside your window, you think back to said new years eve.

-(flashback)

“oh my god” you said, stepping into the big hall that usually is the universities gym. But whoever planned this outdid themselves.

A dj was placed on one of the tribunes and a whole buffet of drinks and punches on the other, as well as a big disco ball hanging from the ceiling, making the room shimmery and shiny.

You could see people coming out of the doors that connected into the universities hall on one side and into the locker rooms on the others, as if it wasn’t already packed.

“this is fucking insane” lia, your roommate from last semester, squeaked while grabbing your arm and jumping a little, her voice overpowering the blasting music..

“I wanna get fucking hammered tonight” you turned to her.

“oh babe don’t worry,  we didn’t come here to drink soda” she laughed before spotting some of your other friends.

About five minutes before midnight you and some more girls gathered at the buffet of drinks and started doing shots.

You all had decided that instead of kissing someone at 12 o’clock you’d ring in 2020 with a shot, because alcohol can’t cheat on you.

You were laughing at something when some people started the countdown.

10!

9!

8!

7!

6!

5!

4!

3!

2!

1!

“HAPPY NEW YEAR”

Every one shouted and celebrated in union as you downed your shot.

“happy new year babe” lia hugged you after downing hers.

“happy new year!” you shouted into her ear, full of relief that this stressful year was over.

“lets do another one” she grinned widely after your whole friend group had shared their wishes with each other.

A girl you didn’t know very well handed you another shot, just as you emptied your glass you heard a guy yell something before stumbling into your back.

“jesus” you stumbled forward a bit before turning around, ready to throw someone a dirty look.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” in front of you suddenly stood a tall dark haired young man with almost too perfect facial features, frowning a little out of concern.

“nothing happened” you smiled, taking a step towards him so he’d hear you better.

“I’m glad” he replied, a grin slowly stretched across his handsome face

“I’m y/n” you giggled as you held out your hand.

His eyes crinkled with his smile as he took your hand in his “I’m hyunjin” he said before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“okay guys let her have her fun lets go over there” you hear lia usher your friends away from behind you.

“happy new year y/n” he said before instinctively pulling you a little closer to him when a group of people passed behind you.

“happy new year hyunjin” you replied, a slow blush creeping on your face from how intensely he was taking in your appearance.

“well yea happy fucking new years to me for running into you” he joked before taking a sip, your brain wasn’t able to function anymore so you just giggled and nervously pushed your hair behind your ear.

It had been way too long since you’d talked to a guy, especially someone as attractive as him

“you’re fucking stunning” hyunjin complimented you and lifted your hand with his to make you spin for him, to which you complied because you took a long time getting ready and always appreciate being appreciated.

“thank you” you were crimson red by now but hoped he wouldn’t see because of the dimmed lights.

“how come I’ve never seen you around? I would’ve remembered you” he tilted his head.

“oh this was my first year here and I live on the other side of campus so…” you nodded slowly “but yea I would’ve remembered you too”

He grinned before downing his drink and putting on the table next to the both of you.

“wanna dance?”

That’s how you found yourself on the dance floor with hyunjin pressed against your back.

Slowly but surely the alcohol made you braver; and it didn’t take long for the dj to play perfect songs to grind yourself against his toned body to.

His reaction was instant, hands gripping even harder at your waist and his own movements matching your own.

You looked back at him just to have the air knocked out of your lungs, a barely there sheen of sweat was covering his forehead; his pupils were dilated and his lips were slightly parted before his tongue swiftly swept over his lower lip.

He looked like sex on legs and moved like it too.

His plump lips formed into a grin when he noticed you staring, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol running through your system but you so desperately wanted to kiss him.

“can’t stop looking at you either, pretty” he lowered his head to mumble against your cheek before pressing a kiss there.

“you’re so goddamn sexy” you blurted out as you turned around to face him, running one of your hands through his dark hair before positioning them on his firm chest.

He threw back his head as his chest vibrated with laughter.

“don’t laugh at me” you laughed as you locked eyes again.

“you’re cute when you’re drunk” hyunjin brought one hand to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“you dont even know me sober” you giggle “also i’m not drunk!” you protested playfully, his hands found your waist in the meantime to pull you flush to his body; at which you gasped almost inaudibly.

“oh really?” he looked down at you, clearly amused “didn’t you drink like 5 shots half an hour ago?”

“well well well, I didn’t know I had an audience” you countered, looping your arms around his neck.

Hyunjin prodded at the inside of his cheek with his tongue before looking away for a swift second, slightly embarrassed because he just exposed himself.

You felt yourself gush a little when he licked his lips again after bringing his gaze back to you.

“so you almost knocked me over on purpose?” you grinned even bigger when he shook his head laughingly.

“listen” he chuckled, leaning down unnecessarily close because you could hear him perfectly fine but you weren’t going to complain.

“I actually didn’t run into you on purpose, that was my friends doing after he saw me notice you” he said.

You mouthed an ‘ahh’ while nodding, feigning disbelief.

“I’m serious” hyunjin laughed “I still have to thank him later; I would’ve probably chickened out”

He got quieter at the end of his sentence, his eyes jumping to your lips when you wet your lower lip with your tongue quickly.

“i-m glad he pushed you then” you replied, trying to hide the fact that your heart was pumping your blood in record time.

“yea” he inched his face closer to yours as you tilted your chin up to meet him in the middle “me too”

His eyes switched from your lips to your eyes one more time before closing the gap between the both of you.

His lips were firm but soft at the same time in the way they moulded against yours, you swore you could hear lia squealing from somewhere but maybe you were just hearing things.

But when his tongue touched yours in the most tentative way you lost contact to what was going on around you, slinging your arms tighter around his neck and deepening the kiss.

A tiny groan escaped hyunjins throat when you carded your fingers through his hair to tug on it and release some of the adrenalin that rushed through you.

He was slow and explorative and let you take control from time to time before sucking on your lower lip and making you loose it.

You didn’t know how many songs had passed; to be honest you didn’t even remember what song was playing when you started kissing.

All you knew in that moment was hyunjins lightly flushed cheeks, swollen lips and dark glistening eyes.

“let’s go somewhere else?” he questioned in a whisper when you bit your lip, nodding at his question.

He grabbed your hand in his before manoeuvring the both of you through the dancing and celebrating crowd.

Before you knew it, hyunjin pulled you into the entrance hall of the university where multiple people had the same idea as you.

Couples scattered across the big room, some just talking, most of them however making out heavily.

“come on” he softly tugged at your hand, smiling when your gaze falls on him.

He lead you up the big flight of stairs onto a floor of the building you’ve never been to, stopping in front of a random room before pulling a small set of keys out of his back pocket.

After unlocking the door, he opened it to let you step inside.

It was a dance studio, the wall right across from you was just one huge mirror through which you could see the big couch in the back of the room and the water dispensers next to it.

“why do you have the keys for this room?” you asked, giggling.

Hyunjin grinned as he closed the door “I’m a dance major, we all have keys for the practice rooms”

“that’s so cool” you beamed “I wish I could dance” you looked around the room, walking towards the mirrored wall a little bit.

“you were moving just fine earlier” hyunjin came up behind you, nimble hands finding your waist as he looked you up and down through the mirror intensely, now that you were under the bright lights of the room.

You couldn’t help but to smile a little at that, the tight little glitter dress that you had chosen really did accentuate your curves in the best way possible, paired with the cute black heels which made your legs look way longer than they actually are.

“but that was like club sexy dancing, you know?” you elaborated.

“hm” he hummed amusedly “whats wrong with sexy club dancing?” you turned around to him.

He didn’t look to shabby himself, all in black, a chic button up with some jeans and a belt; accessorized with rings on his pretty fingers, a  dainty silver necklace and some small earrings.

Some might say he was underdressed, but the way he carried himself with such confidence, and that face of his must for sure be a panty dropper, you thought.

“nothing but… I don’t know, teach me something” you pleaded.

“what do you want me to teach you?” he laughed.

“I don’t know a pirouette or something” you suggested, laughing as well.

“okay” he grinned “this is like the base stance” he positioned himself correctly before looking at you to see if you were following his instructions.

“mhm” you hummed, replicating what he was doing.

“and then you get momentum with one leg to be able to swing yourself around, like this” hyunjin explained before executing a perfect pirouette and ending it back in the base stance.

“that was fast” you chuckled.

“your turn” he grins before moving behind you “try to keep your eyes on yourself in the mirror otherwise you’ll loose balance”

“okay” you said unsurely.

“I’ll catch you if you fall” he winked at you, at which you scoff playfully before carefully swinging yourself into a pirouette.

You landed on wobbly legs but before you could tip over hyunjin stabilized you with a firm grip on your hips.

“you’re a natural” he grinned at you through the mirror.

“well thank you” you playfully feigned cockiness before he spun you around himself.

A few seconds pass of the both of you taking in each others features in silence, the only thing you could hear was the faint music of the party downstairs, before hyunjin spoke up.

“can I kiss you?”

You fell into giggles again as you let your forehead rest against his collarbone before looking up again “we’ve kissed before”

“yea but that was like a moment and I don’t want to catch you off guard or anything” he mumbles cutely.

“mm” you nod “ you can kiss me”

And with a smile, he does.

You weren’t surprised when his first gentle ministrations turned into more desperate ones rather quickly because you could feel the warmth spread in your lower regions as well.

He walked the both of you over to the couch, only parting from your lips when he sat down on the black leather material of the couch.

“come here, pretty girl” he took your hand to help you straddle him, your dress riding up but you couldn’t care less if he saw your safety shorts, and he didn’t seem to care either by the way he feverishly connected your lips again.

His hands travelled down to squeeze at your waist before smoothing over your ass and grabbing a handful of each cheek, you moaned into the kiss when you realized how big his hands were.

Your own hands were squeezing at his shoulders before one moved into his soft hair while the other softly rested on his cheek.

The kiss was messy and desperate, teeth clinking together and tongues licking at each other.

The things that riled you up the most however were his groans and praises.

“you’re so fucking sexy” he groaned before moving down to kiss at your jaw and down your neck.

A needy whimper escaped from your throat when he started suckling the sensitive skin at the base of your throat.

“fuck-hyunjin” you moaned when his teeth grazed over your clavicle.

Your hands fumbled before landing on his belt, at which he pulled away from your skin, gently taking your hands off of his belt.

“I’d love to take you out first, actually” his pretty kiss swollen lips twitched up into a shy smile as he pants.

“oh” you were taken aback, you were almost certain that this was something regular for him “I thought-“

“I mean if you just want to fuck we can fuck of course” he chuckled “but- I actually think you’re really cute and fun and I’d love to get to know you better”

Your mouth stood a little agape “uh- I mean-I” you stuttered, your brain not functioning properly because of the alcohol running through your veins but also him!

“its okay if you just want, you know-“

“no!” you blurted out all over sudden, making him flinch a little “sorry, uhm- its just been a while since I had a date” you smile apologetically.

His expression visibly brightens “that’s okay” he giggled “so is that a yes?”

You grinned, leaning in to just barely brush your lips with his, his head twitching upwards in an attempt to connect them fully.

“yes” you whispered, at which he smiled brightly before pulling your in for a kiss by your neck.

-(flashback end)

“y/n”

“hey, y/n” you grumble when you feel someone gently rocking your shulder.

“mmm-what?” you peek your eyes open just to see hyunjin smile at you.

“good morning sunshine” he teases as you sit up in your seat when you realize you aren’t driving anymore.

“just kidding its not morning” he says as you look around your car, realizing your on a parking lot.

“where the fuck are we?” you whip your head towards him “did you bring me here to kill me? kidnap me?”

“wha?- no” he laughs “no, I’m sorry. Right after you fell asleep there was this huge traffic jam because of an accident and we stood there for almost 3 hours so I drove off and found this” he points out the rear window, where you see a small motel building.

You look back at him before checking the time on your phone, seeing it was indeed almost midnight.

“fuck” you swear to yourself.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to keep driving because I was getting tired so I thought maybe-“ hyunjin starts rambling guiltily, not wanting you to thing that this was an attempt to get in your pants.

“hey” you put your hand on his shoulder after taking off your seatbelt “this is good, you made the right decision I think we both could use some sleep” you say.

You each take your suitcases and walk inside, it’s an old building but it looks pretty clean for a motel off of the highway.

“good evening you two” an old lady sits behind the, probably just as old, reception.

“good evening, could we get 2 single rooms, please” hyunjin speaks up politely.

“I’m afraid we only have 2 double bed rooms available, if you’d like to take them, they will however be more expensive than the rooms for one” she explains politely.

“its okay, we’ll take one of those, please” you decide, hyunjins head snapping towards you.

“is that okay?” you ask him.

“yea- sure” he nods.

“alright, room 301 it is” she hands you the key before stating that you’ll have to checkout before 12 pm and what the room costs.

“do you accept card?” hyunjin asks at which the friendly old lady nods before taking his card and swiping it through her little machine.

“I’ll venmo you half of what you paid” you say after unlocking room 301.

He tsk’s at you before shaking his head “don’t, it was my idea so I’ll pay”

“are you sure?” you ask closing the door behind you when he turns on the lights.

“yup-oh” he exclaims.

“this room is cute” you say, it’s small but the walls are a soft sunflower yellow, decorated with paintings of autumn leaves .

The bed looks clean, and when you smell the mouse gray blankets and pillows, they smell fresh as well.

“stop smelling the pillows” hyunjin laughs.

“I’ve never been to a motel, I thought everything would be dirty or ancient” you confess comically.

He chuckles as he comes out of the small bathroom “the bathroom is clean too, don’t worry” he says when you look at him expectantly.

“I’ll sleep on the floor if you want” he offers as you open your suitcase to get out your toothbrush and pj’s.

“it’s fine, hyunjin I’ve slept in the same bed as a male before” you joke.

“well how am I supposed to know that?” he counters, at which you throw your pj shorts at him out of reflex.

When you realize what you had done it was too late, he was already holding them out in front of him before giggling.

“very cute choice” he mocks the small white shorts with red hearts all over it.

“stoop” you whine, trying to fish it out of his hands but he holds them over his head like a kindergartener.

“I remember why I don’t like you” you pout, crossing your arms.

His face drops alongside with his arms “I thought we were past that”

You use his moment of weakness to snatch your shorts out of his hands “gotcha”

-

“see I told you I was gonna take you out” hyunjin beams at you before looking down at the various snacks he took from the motels vending machine, which were laying in between the both of you on the bed.

“and so luxurious too” you joke, crossing your legs.

“only the best for you” he grins when you open a pack of fruit jellies.

“you know, I was thinking about new years” you say “ and I realized that it was your fault!”

Hyunjin throws his head back as he groans playfully “why?”

“if you hadn’t lost your phone when we got back downstairs, I wouldn’t have had to write my number on your arm; or you could’ve just given me your number and I could’ve text you. But you didn’t even know your own number!” you laugh in reminiscence.

“listen” he laughs “I was drunk and you’re hot! I couldn’t think” he defends himself before taking a bite off a chocolate bar.

You blush a little but play it off with a laugh.

“but yes, I admit, it was indeed my fault” he dramatically holds his hand in front of his eyes.

“yeeees!” you exclaim victoriously.

“I’m kidding though” you pat his knee “I forgive you”

“I’m glad” he smiles.

After the both of you are done eating way too many sweets, you find yourself being really comfortable when talking to hyunjin.

He’s funny, doesn’t seem like he’s full of himself and just in general seems like a very kind person.

“I thought you were a fuckboy when me met” you confess, looking at him.

Propped on one elbow looking down at you, while you lay on your side towards him, his face illuminated only by the little lights on each of your nightstands.

“you did?” he asks confusedly.

“yea” you chuckle “you were so confident and…sexy I don’t know” you place your hand over your face in embarrassment.

“oh that was the liquid courage talking, I’m usually pretty shy” he shakes his head smilingly when you peek through your fingers.

“don’t lie” you push his shoulder softly.

“I’m serious!” he laughs.

“you were the first guy to approach me at a party” you pause “like ever”

“no way, you’re lying now” he furrows his brows.

“nope” you shake your head.

“but I was really close to not talking to you as well, I’m sure there were many guys before me that just didn’t have the liquid courage, like I did” he speculates.

“maybe” you say.

“have any exes?” he asks after a few seconds.

“yea, one”

“well how did you meet him?”

“he showed me around on my first day of freshman year, I transferred like in the middle of the first semester so I wasn’t with any other freshmen” you tell him.

“why’d you break up if I may ask?” hyunjin asks carefully.

“oh we were only together for like three weeks, you can’t even call I relationship. He used me to make his hot ex jealous and cheated on me with her” you say “but hey they’re back together at least” you scoff.

“i’m sorry” he mumbles at which you look up at him.

“it’s not your fault” you chuckle.

“well, still no one should feel that way” he says “you know that you were way too good for him right?”

You nod.

“what about you? Have any exes?” you ask back.

He snickers “only one in seoul”

“why didn’t you last?”

“it was a long distance situation, she was super jealous and couldn’t trust me. which I can understand to a certain degree but everytime I went out she wanted me to facetime her and show her what kinds of people were there with me. That was just too much” he explains.

“wow” you chuckle “that doesn’t sound fun either”

Hyunjin shakes his head “nope, but hey we got rid of ‘em, didn’t we?”

“yea” you giggle “plus if I hadn’t broken up with him I would’ve probably never gone to the new years eve party”

“I guess I owe him something then” he grins as you scooch up on the bed.

“can I kiss you?” you ask after a few seconds of silence.

“hm?” hyunjins eyes almost spring out of his head.

“I don’t want to catch you off guard” you grin as you repeat his words from the night you met, sitting up.

He licks his lower lip as a grin stretches over his face as he sits up as well “do your worst”

You get up on your knees to shuffle over to him, when you get close enough hyunjin grabs one of your thighs and lifts it over his legs so you’re straddling him.

Once you sit down on his lap, your eyes lock again and you’re once again baffled as to how someone can be so god damn attractive.

His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips expectantly, a shaky breath leaving his lips when you lean in.

Your lips connect and it feels like all the pent up energy of liking him since that night finally gets set free, sparks glowing behind your lit and his hands leaving a trail of fire where ever they go.

They squeeze at your thighs and waist, pulling you impossibly close to himself.

A whimper tears from your throat when his tongue licks at yours, he tastes like chocolate and what could only be described as him.

He moans into the kiss when you tug at the blonde locks that weren’t pulled back into the ponytail; before pulling the hair tie out of his hair to free it and finally card your fingers through all of the blonde glory.

Before you realize what’s going on, hyunjin lifts the both of you before dropping you on your back and crawling above you.

The fact that he just lifted the both of you from a sitting position as if you weigh nothing makes you feel all types of hot.

“you’re so hot holy shit” you pant as you push his long hair out of his face.

“ditto” he only grins before attaching his lips to your exposed collarbone and sucking a bruise into the skin.

“take it off” you moan as you tug on the dark blue calvin klein shirt he’s wearing.

His lips release the skin of your collarbone before sitting up to pull the shirt over his head.

If your mouth wasn’t already open from your heavy breathing, you would’ve opened it now because his body is more sculpted and toned than you had expected.

Your hand lifts to smooth over his abs, muscles flexing as he connects your lips again.

His one hand slides from your waist up to cup one of your breasts, gently palming the soft flesh.

“I know I said I wanted to take you out first but-“ he mumbles against your lips.

“you bought me a lovely dinner” you interrupt him, threading your fingers through the hair that’s falling down into his vision.

He grins, dropping a short peck to your lips before his the grin gets wiped off his face “I don’t have a condom with me”

“I’m on the pill” you let him know “I got tested before the lockdown and I haven’t been with anyone since soo…”

“yea, me too, I was tested a few months ago” he nods.

You nod back, biting your lip as you absently play with his hair.

“do you trust me?” hyunjin asks, observing your demeanour.

“yea- yea I do I’m just nervous” you smile awkwardly.

“no” he coos before kissing you “why are you nervous?”

“just haven’t been with anyone for a while” you confess.

Hyunjin nods understandingly “if you don’t want to do this we’ll stop”

“no I really want to” you look into his eyes as confidently as you can.

“okay” he smiles, planting his lips on yours again.

“can i?” his voice gives you goosebumps when he mumbles against the sensitive skin under your ear, his fingers slowy undoing the loose knot of your heart shorts.

“yes” you say when he locks eyes with you.

“I love these shorts” he softly presses a kiss to your knee, trying to calm your nerves a little, before he gently rocks your hips to pull them off of you.

You blush a little out of embarrassment but smile when you lift your hips to help him.

“cute” he whispers when he see’s your panties have a little bow on the front.

He chuckles when you hide your face in embarrassment, pulling you closer to him again by your thighs before you let him kiss you again.

“can I take this off too?” hyunjin whispers, softly pulling at the fabric of the tank top you’re wearing, at which you nod.

You are still wearing a bra when he pulls it off so you take it into your own hands and unclasp your bra.

Your nipples stiffen a little at the sudden exposure to air, as well as to hyunjin’s admiring gaze.

“fuck” he muses when palming your breasts in his big hands, gently pushing them together an running his thumbs over your nipples.

A whimper involuntarily leaves your lips when he wraps his plump lips around one of the perked up nubs and sucks gently.

“so fucking pretty, princess” you feel yourself pathetically clench around nothing at his praise.

You feel one of his hands wander downwards to provide some friction for you, he slots his lips against yours when you tentatively roll your hips against his hand.

Hyunjin feels his cock get even harder when an almost desperate moan tumbles from your lips against his. So he ads a little more pressure and starts circling your clit with two fingers, your sighs of pleasure mixing into the kiss.

“you’re so sensitive baby” he whispers as he parts his lips from yours “can I go down on you?” he grazes his lips over your chest, looking up at you seductively.

You nod as you bite your lip, hyunjin placing a few kisses on your tummy before shortly sitting up to also free you from your soaked panties.

The first stripe he licks up your slit, and how he swirls the tip of his tongue around your clit expertly sends you to heaven.

His hands are gripping your thighs to prevent you from closing your legs, your hands are tangled in his hair and the sheets.

“hyunj-fuck” you cry out when his tongue enters you.

He carefully prods one finger at your entrance “is that okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse and dripping with lust.

“yea” you sigh.

Once you adjust to one finger, he adds a second one, curling them upwards to search for that specific patch inside of you.

“yes-fuck right there” you moan when his fingers press onto the sweetest spot inside of you, tugging at his hair a little harshly. But you feel him moan against you, getting lost in your taste as he sucks your clit in between his soft lips.

Your hips buckle against his mouth as your eyes roll backwards, feeling the warmth of your orgasm approach rapidly.

“fuck fuck yes-hyunjin” you cry out just before he tipped you over the edge with his skillful ministration, your orgasm rushing up your spine and into your head, endorphins spreading everywhere.

A cry of pleasure fills the room as your thighs starts trembling with the aftershocks, clamping around his head when he drives you into overstimulation.

“oh-shit-“ you pant as you softly pushed on his forehead to get him away from your clit, his fingers still inside you, guiding you through your high.

He nibbles on your inner thigh apologetically. You can still hear your heartbeat in your ears after hyunjin removes his fingers from you and sits up, gently holding your legs together to help you calm down.

“fuck” you mewl, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

He’s wanted to do this for so long and there you are, with all of your naked glory in front of him.

While he’s daydreaming about you, you sit up and start fiddling with his sweatpants.

“you want more?” he quips, once he realises what you’re doing, leaning in to kiss you.

“mhm” you humm into the kiss affirmitavely when his hand holds you close to him by your jaw.

With a quick last peck to your lips he simultaneously shimmies the soft black sweats and his boxers off of himself.

You apparently visibly gulp at the sight of his cock because hyunjin smirks cockily “like what you see?” as he crawls above you again, his lips finding yours again and not waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know if you’ll fit” you mumble when he suckles at the soft nook of skin under your ear.

“we can stop here” he offers softly before locking eyes again.

You shake your head as you reach down to fist his length, slowly pumping it and smearing the few drops of precum around.

“no, you’re just really big” you huff with a shy smile on your lips at which hyunjin groans.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, you know?” he mutters against your lips before kissing you deeply, his hand smoothing over the slope of your waist before coming up to gently pinch at one of your nipples.

Eliciting a soft high pitched moan from you, this only spurs him on.

Rolling his tongue against yours desperately and making you taste yourself before sinfully sucking at the wet muscle.

All the while you’re stroking him with your small hand before cupping his balls, as if he didn’t already feel like he’s gonna blow his load way too early.

“please” you whine, guiding his reddened tip towards your entrance.

Hyunjin releases a shaky breath before replacing your hand with his, rutting his hips against yours a few times, coating his length in your wetness.

This already had your toes curling, suppressing a whine as you lock your legs around his waist.

“tell me if it hurts, yea?” he breathes, only pressing inside you after you nod, dropping a kiss to your swollen lips.

“fuck” he swears softly, tucking his face in the crook of your neck when he breaches your tight walls for the first time.

Your fingers tighten in his hair at the back of his neck when a subtle sting flares up inside of you.

“ah-“ your body flinches a little when he presses further inside, hyunjin notices, observing your expression before kissing your cheek and sitting up slowly.

“you’re doing so good, baby” he lifts his thumb to his lips, swiftly kitten-licking the digit before bringing it to where your bodies join.

Gently rolling your clit under his thumb to distract you from the pain.

“you look so perfect like this” his other hand travels over your stomach to gently squeeze at your breasts “all spread out for me”

You whimper, arching your back when hyunjin thrusts into you carefully; the pain slowly subsiding and the ache to be fully filled up by him growing exponentially when his cock rubs against your g spot.

“hyunjin” you moan, gripping onto his hand, which is resting atop your breast.

“yes baby, I’m here” he groans at how tight you feel once he’s balls deep inside of you, abandoning your clit to grab you by the hips for leverage.

His other hand resting on your cheek now, after a few trusts you moan “harder, please”

Hyunjin groans and fulfils your wish, at one particularly harsh thrust, you latch your lips around his pointer and middle finger, sucking at them.

“oh my god-that’s so fucking hot” he grunts through clenched teeth.

His cock dragging along your walls deliciously, filling you up to the brim as you hum around his slender fingers in pleasure.

“you like my hands that much baby?” his jaw is clenched and the grip on your waist is rough , the contrast to how sweet he was just a few minutes earlier had you clench around him furiously.

“fuck-“ he breathes when you nod to the best of your abilities, eyes wide open and holding his gaze.

You only release his fingers from in between your lips in favour for a loud high pitched moan when his other hand finds your clit again, rubbing harsh circles into the bud.

“-gonna cum-huynjin” you dig your nails into his biceps, eyes squeezing shut.

“yea?” he grits through his teeth the fingers that were previously trapped in your mouth now wrapping around your bared throat.

Not squeezing tightly, just resting there as if to show you that you’re his now.

Your thought gets confirmed when he rasps “you’re gonna date me after this, right pretty girl?”

You do look so pretty right now, tits bouncing and skin slapping because of the fast rhythm that he’s snapping his hips into yours, not to mention the subtle sheen of sweat that’s coating the both of you.

A desperate breathy chuckle tumbles from your lips “ yes-yes fuck” you feel your second orgasm creeping up on you.

“cum for me princess, all over my cock” he urges you on, his tip hammering into the sweet spot inside of you repeatedly before you crash into your second high of the night.

Your body convulses in pleasure as you call out his name mixed with profanities, your toes curling so hard you’re not sure if you can ever uncurl them again, and your nails probably leaving painful indents in his skin.

His thumb on your clit slows down until you grab his hand for him to stop, his hand around your neck grabs your free one, holding both of your hands over your head now.

“so good, baby” he mumbles, kissing your lips; mostly just breathing into each other as he rocks you through every wave of your orgasm.

Hyunjin looses himself in you not long after with a guttural moan and his eyes squeezing shut.

You coax him through it when he rests his face against your neck again, running your fingertips through his damp hair and over his broad back, muscles tensing under your gentle touch.

i“don’t fall asleep on me” you whisper sneakily, grinning when he chuckles against your neck, tickling the soft skin there.

He props himself up again to scan over your features, pushing some hair out of your face before kissing you tenderly.

“you okay?” his hand resting at your temple as he gently runs his thumb over your hairline.

“more than” you assure him, cupping his cheeks to pull his lips onto yours again.You think you can never get enough of his lips, anything about him for that matter; not when he makes you feel so cared about and safe.

“so does this mean we’re dating now?” he whispers after he has cleaned you up and tucked the both of you in bed.

“hmh” you nod your head sleepily, positioned on his bare chest.

“so I can spoon you once we fall asleep?” he asks, grin evident in his voice.

“you can spoon me but you can’t wake me up in the middle of the night if you get horny” you mumble jokingly, enjoying his fingers running down your spine as your eyelids get heavier.

“okay” he giggles softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before you whisper your good nights to each other.

And as promised, he doesn’t wake you up in the middle of the night because he’s horny.

It’s you who wakes him, because after 10 months of wasted time, you have a lot of catching up to do.

-

a/n: oml this is my first ever long fic so pls pls pls give me feedback, i had so much fun writing his even though it made me feel even more single but hey :))))

allsooo i waited til after work to publish this and i just saw i hit 500 followers?!?!?! thats crazy to me omg i started this like 2 months ago and so many ppl liked my stuff so much that they decided to follow me?? so i just wanna say thank u thank u thank u for hitting the follow button even though im very unorganized and everything i do is spontaneaous and not thought out well. but hey i guess there is a reason that u followed me so thank u!

(i’d love if u sent me an ask with the first one of my writings that u stumbled across, and how <3 ...only if u want tho no pressure) 

anyways thank u so much for reading if you’ve made it this far! i hope you have a great day/ night! much love

-aj

(this is a work of fiction and does not represent the real actions of stray kids or hwang hyunjin)

[soulwillower]

crush culture • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: fic where Richie and reader have been best friends since kindergarten, and have always had feelings for eachother secretly, until one day richie gets a girlfriend (just to take his mind off her), and the reader gets jealous and distances herself from him? he obviously gets upset by this- and things go on from there? sorry if it’s too specific! love u!

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of death, fighting, mentions of an abusive relationship, intentionally pissing off richie, a bit of angst, richie is an oblivious idiot, but reader is MUCH more of an idiot, like dude lmao, but i think that’s it, unedited tho

this isn’t rly based off crush culture, but i took the title from conan gray’s song :)  

[losers + reader are 18+ in this!!!]

3.8k words L O L :))

♡

you swear to god, you’re getting sick. that’s what this was, for sure.

it started about a month ago, when you started to get headaches and terrible hollow feelings in your stomach. it happened everywhere - in the line for coffee, in class, driving home from school, at the dinner table. but it got a hundred times worse at night and then seemed to triple in force every morning when you woke.

and it all came at you some time after richie announced he had a new girlfriend.

you were really sick the few days after that, enough that you stayed home from school and laid in bed, the pit in your stomach sinking. it didnt take long for you to realize how bad richie’s girlfriend was - she treated him like a dog, like he embarrassed her - and he didn’t even seem to mind. he just brushed off every offhand comment, rolled his eyes with a grin when she told him she didn’t want to see his friends or when she told him to stop talking. 

he still seemed to like her, anyways. and that thought made your stomach convulse.

so then you had to distance yourself from richie because it hurt you to see him with her. it hurt you to see him with someone who didn’t treat him like the incredible person he was. 

so yeah.

you say you’re sick, but you know that’s not really true. it’s easier than accepting reality at this point, though, so you spew this nonsense (to yourself, mostly) in order to justify ignoring your best friend of nearly a decade because christ, he is becoming unbearable.

like the other day, at lunch while you were all sitting in the courtyard. it was your first time eating with them again after almost a week and a half, as you’d been eating alone in your car recently to avoid richie. “rich, why’d you take off the nail polish?” bev asked, out of the blue, sounding disappointed as she grabbed his free hand and examined it.

he blew smoke out of his mouth slowly and you had forced yourself to look away, the sight of richie doing nearly anything these days being pretty dangerous for you. it also made you sigh a bit - you knew he only smoked at lunch now, since his girlfriend hated it.

“don’t want my paws to be prettier than y/n’s when we hold hands.” he had joked, wagging an eyebrow at you. you’d shook your head and looked to the ground in lew of a real response, just as you had been doing a lot recently.

you'd missed richie’s frown at your reaction, but you did catch his next statement as it was added on, “nah, actually it’s because the ol’ G-F didn’t like it. thought it looked too girly.”

you, stan, bev, and mike all stopped chewing to look at richie, in varying stages of bewilderment. you'd cleared your throat quickly but decided against speaking up just as richie’s phone started to ring. he’d answered it nearly immediately, the enthusiasm of which made you feel like you’re going to be sick again - because richie never answers your calls until the last possible minute.

god, jealousy is a fucking disease.

“hey, sugar.” he had purred suavely into the phone and for some reason, hearing him call someone else sugar had you abruptly rising, gathering your things and nearly running off to put as much distance between you and four-eyes as you possibly could, because you’re not sure how much more you could take.

after that, you were absolutely sure it was just pure denial on your part.

as far as you could tell, richie wasn't noticing too much. he still phoned your house every day, just to be met with your mother telling him you 'weren't available,' and then he'd call your own phone, which you'd let buzz itself into a dark hole on your bedside table while you stared at it solemnly, guilt heavy on your mind as he left voicemail after voicemail. 

he doesn't deserve it, you think as you open the doors to the school library, backpack on your shoulders. but you can't help it. you're not his girlfriend, and you're not mature enough to accept that with any ounce of elegance so instead you just ignore him all together. at least you're self-aware, right? that ought to count for something.

you shake your head just as a voice catches your attention, “well look who decided to show up!”

richie's sitting at the usual study table in the very back corner of the library, a spot tucked away by rows upon rows of dusty books and an alcove of couches. bill sits at the head of the table, scribbling his chicken scratch handwriting onto graph paper, mike next to richie with a textbook spread out flat. across from mike is stan, writing out his statistics work. 

all three of them wave at you before going back to their work, whereas richie just watches you expectantly. his feet are kicked up on the table, textbook balanced on his lap as he hovers on two leg chairs. his smile is as blinding as always, a dimple faint on his left cheek and full eyebrows raised in jest. his curls frame his face perfectly and you want to scream.

but you take your seat next to stan with a tight lipped smile, not really sure how to respond to richie. are you even allowed to be flirty with him like you used to? he still does it on the rare occasions when you do see each other - but that itself is the issue, you figure. his flirting is just a joke, a tiff from one friend to another. but you can't see him as just a friend, and that’s unfair to him.

so you stay quiet, which makes it infinitely more awkward.

richie clears his throat and you pull out your work with an awkward expression, the minutes slowly churning by in what has to be the quietest hangout with the Losers yet.

you feel the tension building in your body and in the air, and you're not sure what's wrong with you or why you have so much resentment towards richie in this moment, because he's not done one single thing to offend anyone in the last ten minutes.

then richie's phone rings suddenly and mike jumps a bit as he's startled out of the passage he's reading. you all look down to richie's screen, where his girlfriend's name blares up at you and all you can feel is white hot jealousy coursing through your body.

richie looks half way exhausted and annoyed at the call, which you find extremely odd and out of character, not to mention persistently frustrating.

as you all stare at the phone, the tension in the room stretches tighter and tighter, like a rubber band and you can't breathe -

"uh, why is she calling you?" mike asks, as if this was something that was forbidden or shocking in any way, and for some reason, that is finally it.

the rubber band snaps.

"how could you forget, mike? they're in love!" you say with mock enthusiasm. 

bill shoots you an alarmed look that you probably should read into or at least consider for a moment, but instead you're looking directly at richie, as if challenging him.

he blinks at you and clenches his jaw, "she and i haven't really been... talking recently." richie says lightly, shooting a glance to mike.

“well then maybe you’re just not right for each other.” you quip, the blood boiling in your veins. richie's eyes snap to you and you see the fire behind them as he suddenly breaks.

“sorry, did i miss the divine intervention when god floated down on a cloud of marshmallows and deemed you expert in relationships?” he says abruptly, making your eyes widen at his outburst. he continues, “because last time i checked, you’re a bit of a failure in that department. so i don't need some jealous, disappearing-act wannabe criticizing my life when she's barely even in it.” he seethes. it’s near quiet in the library anyways, but his words seem to silence the entire town.

with a quick glance to your right, stan and bill sharing an uncomfortable look, and mike is staring down intently at his work with wide eyes.

you want to die.

does richie know? has he known this whole time that you're just deeply, painfully head over heels for him? 

"i'm so sick of your bullshit. maybe you're jealous because you want what i had, but you’re being really fucking rude."

you nearly cry. or scream.

“criticism doesnt equal jealousy, okay?” you spit without thinking, immediately regretting even opening your mouth. you're so intent on covering for yourself, you don't even take into account the phrasing he'd used when referring to his girlfriend, instead fighting with richie in order to keep your secret from him.  

this is not how you’d intended today to go. he stares at you, eyebrows furrowed in a way that almost makes you keel over in sadness, the guilt of the situation falling too heavily on your shoulders and crushing you.

it’s tranquilizing to see him like this -  he's fuming, but he's also got bright, glistening eyes which you think may be filling up with tears.

“i didn’t really ask for your input, though.” he mutters, cheeks reddening as tears definitely well in his eyes behind his lenses. “you can’t just ignore me at your every whim just to come right back and tell me what's good for me.”

you blink, shaking your head quickly, deciding to back off. now is not the time to fight, especially when you know he’s right. you had no idea it was hurting him like this. "richie, i... i just wanted-" you gape at him, extremely embarrassed.

“-i don’t fucking care what you wanted, y/n.” richie says sharply, causing you to shut your mouth so quick your jaw clicks in the silence. clearly, even the other boys are perturbed by richie’s actions and everyone’s staring down in silence at their homework.

it’s quiet like that for a few minutes, the tension so thick that you’d need a jackhammer just to chip away at it. but stan rummages through his bag suddenly, pulling out two painkillers and dry swallowing them. you don't look at anyone else, your stomach hollow and your heart thumping so hard in your chest you think you may explode.

"d-do you have a headache?" bill asks, looking at stan with concern. the sudden voice causes you to perk up, head flowing with humiliation at the fight you and richie had just had in front of your friends.

“yeah, but it’s not that bad. i guess i’m used to it.” stan says, pen between his teeth.

“just because you’re used to something doesn’t make it any less unhealthy for you.” you say louder than necessary, your mouth suddenly deciding to speak without consulting your brain. 

the glare of pure frustration that richie throws you pierces your lungs and suddenly makes you feel lightheaded. 

your pettiness doesn’t go unresponsive, of course, and mike sighs into his hands, standing up to gather his things. "alright. i can't study when you two are like this. i'll see you guys later."

richie sighs quietly and bill and stan mumble good-bye's. the library goes back to quiet for maybe three more minutes, until you see stanley start to fidget like he usually does when he's anxious. and then you notice it after a few seconds, too.

richie won't stop tapping his foot on the desk.

for everyone's sake, you try to ignore it, because you know richie can't help his compulsions - especially when he's upset (which, your mind painfully reminds you, is all your fault).

but it's driving you crazy.

“-if you keep doing that i’ll throw you out that fucking window rich, i swear.” stan mutters not unkindly, his eyes rolling to meet richie with a concerned gaze as richie stares out the window.

you raise your eyebrows, “what’re you even looking at?” you ask, trying to mend a bit of the open, festering wound you’d created in you and richie’s friendship.

without looking at you, richie shrugs. “checking to see how high the drop is. may be worth it to have schnoz just toss me down. it would certainly do you a favor right? gettin ol’ trashmouth gone for good.”

what was he saying? you look at him, scandalized. stan and bill don’t even say anything about the offensive nickname as you gape at richie. "what the fuck?" is all your brilliant mind can think.

"what, you can dish it but you can't take it?" richie says sharply. he shakes his head, looking upset. "i'm tired of trying to be friends with a fucking brick wall."

then he's gathering his one notebook and swiftly exiting your alcove in the library in a wind of cigarettes and cologne. 

you blink, his words sinking in and making you sigh shakily. your stomach feels hollow as you remember the expression of glee on his face when you'd walked into the library, and how completely different and broken he'd looked as he'd left. you think you're going to cry.

“every minute that you don't follow him digs yourself deeper into this grave, you know.” stan says, giving you a stern but encouraging look.

you let out a shaky sigh and scramble to grab your bag, tripping over your feet as you run out of the library, flying down the staircase faster than you've ever gone and making it to your lifelong best friend just as he reaches his car in the parking lot.

"-a brick wall?" you ask, out of breath. you see richie hold back an eye roll, his arms crossing over each other as he serves you a look of discomposure.

he shrugs helplessly, looking as if he's at his wit's end.

"what do you want me to say, y/n? you've been avoiding me for weeks. i know i'm annoying and obnoxious and whatever, but i'm not blind." he says, making you swallow as guilt pangs through your chest. you have been so fucking selfish, haven't you?

it hurts to hear him say that about himself. 

he sniffles a bit, sounding choked up as he goes on, "i've had a rough couple of days - weeks, even. but every time i'm near, it's like you've had more than enough, and you just leave. am i that repulsive? why do you suddenly hate me?" he asks, looking desperate as his eyes rim red, filling with tears again.

“what did i do?” his voice cracks as he whispers the sentence and your heart breaks in two.

your own vision goes glassy as he continues, "-i've needed you, y/n/n. i'm lost, i'm seriously not okay and you just don't care at all."

you're stunned for a moment, mouth opening and closing silently as your mind races to rush something out, anything,because you aren't sure you can bear to see richie look at you like this for one more second. but your silence comes off wrong to richie, and tears slip out of his eyes.

“don’t you love me?” he asks, voice hoarse and cutting right through you, deeper than any knife ever could. "don't you want me to be happy?" he adds and you take a shaky breath, looking helplessly at him, where you're met with nothing but glassy eyes and tear trails. your heart is slamming in your chest, tears falling from your eyes and you can't breathe.

"a-are you?" you ask, trying to keep your tone even although it comes out just as vulnerable as you feel. “h-happy. with her?”

richie freezes at your words, mouth slightly open and you watch a single tear course over his high cheekbones and down to his bottom lip as it shakes faintly. you curse yourself for the longing to feel those very lips against yours.

"i was." he whispers, voice shaking as he rubs his face with his hand under his glasses, the moisture of his fallen tears clinging from his long dark lashes onto his slender, shaking fingers. "and then - and then i lost you. and y'know, i got my girlfriend so i could distract myself, but she made me feel like absolute shit all the time and so i went and broke up with her, but -" he hiccups through his tears and you blink, biting your lip as tears cascade down your cheek in wet trails.

they broke up?

he broke up with her, and he's going through this breakup and trying to better himself after she tore him down and you've just been ignoring him - he thinks you don't care about him, that you don't love him. you start to cry harder. 

"-i thought she'd distract me from you. i-i'm sorry." he says, his voice muffled by his hands as they cover up his angelic face, his shoulders shaking as more tears fall. "i'm so sorry."he repeats. 

you see double for a second, completely shocked by his words as the breath leaves your lungs. he tried to distract himself from you... and he’s so hurt because of what you did. 

but finally, for the first time this whole damn day, you find the right words. "i-no, richie, i'm sorry, please - fuck." you break, letting out a sob as you rub your eyes furiously in search of any relief from the guilt ripping you in two. "i didn't mean to hurt you. i'm so sorry, i can't believe i did this, i didn't want to hurt you, i'm just so selfish." you babble, his sniffles making you open your eyes.

he looks so alone and so vulnerable as he hugs his arms around himself in search of comfort, tears still falling from his bright eyes and down his rosy cheeks. 

he looks devastatingly beautiful in the golden sunlight of the afternoon, a breeze ruffling his curls lightly. "just please, i can't - i can't deal with you hating me. please, please, please."

he's pleading with you and you think you may be sick from the guilt and sadness that envelopes you, so you spring forward and wrap your arms tightly around him. the force of your body pushes him against the side of his car and the way he clings back to you like you're the last thing holding him to earth just makes you cry even harder.

"i don't hate you, richie. i love you, i love you too much." you say, your body shaking as he just holds you tighter against him. "i'm so sorry, i didn't mean any of it. you're right. i was just jealous... i'm so sorry. i was so jealous of her, i couldn't see you be with her." you mumble. "i'm so sorry."

richie pulls you back gently at your words, his eyes wide and wondering as you look at each other. "what?" he asks so innocently, his eyelashes wet and dark and his lips parted. 

you can count the freckles on his nose and cheeks, you're so close. you can feel his shuddering breath against your face as he huffs in a breath. your hands hold onto his shoulders and you decide to fuck it, you just have to tell him how sorry you are, to explain yourself.

"richie, i'm in love with you. and - and when you and her got together, it hurt so much, and i didn't want to deal with the fact that i couldn't have you, so i just ignored you. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry." you say it quickly and in one breath, looking down at your shoes and how they point straight towards his.

"you're in... love with me?" he says weakly, sounding hopeful as you finally look back into his eyes guiltily. 

you laugh wetly, "of course i am, richie. how could i not fall head over heels for everything about you?"

he tears up again at your words, but this time it's accompanied by a beautiful smile and a light, wet laugh. he shakes his head, his arms circling your waist tighter as he presses his forehead against yours. your butterflies tickle your stomach at your proximity.

"fuck, y/n. i can't believe i spend my time trying to get my mind off you." he says and your breath hitches a bit. "do you have any idea how long i've been in love with you?" he asks quietly, and you let out another small laugh out of shock, but it's wet and gleeful.

"i'm sorry." you whisper, your finger curling around a strand of the dark hair on his head. he shakes his head, your noses rubbing slightly. "it's okay, y/n. i love you so much. please let me forgive you." he says, pulling a smile out of you that you don't think anybody else ever could. you nod shortly, looking into his eyes as one last tear falls. 

he kisses you tenderly then, taking your breath away.

richie fills up your every sense as he clings to you desperately, his lips salty from your combined tears and his arms strong. his tongue is gentle as it runs along your lips and enters your parted mouth, one of his hands sliding up to tilt your head up towards him. you're breathless because of him for the millionth time in your life and you decide kissing richie is the only thing you want to do forever. 

you pull away slowly, and as you lean back he presses a chaste second kiss to your lips, causing you to grin. 

you barely make eye contact as you pull apart and then you greedily pull him back to you, his lips finding yours yet again with a sweet, loving laugh.

"i love you too, rich." you mumble against his lips. he sighs almost dreamily as you pull back, biting your lip and laughing when he opens the passenger door, gesturing to it with a shy grin.

"now can i please buy you a burger?" he asks, almost bashfully, and your heart does somersaults. you nod and kiss him again, his hand falling to the small of your back, palm wide and fingers lower than you'd expected. he pulls away and his grin is loving, his eyes hooded in pride as you caress his cheek softly before you slide into the car seat.

he holds your hand the whole night and refuses to let go until you slip through your front door at near midnight, blushes on both of your cheeks and lips kiss-bruised.

the butterflies you feel as you fall asleep with a grin on your face are the exact same ones richie feels as his head finally hits the pillow, a giddy smile on his own face as he smiles to himself in the dark halfway across town.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx@brxken-heartsclub @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier   @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s  @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters

[irwinkitten]

i know you know | c.h

pairing: reader x calum prompts: “That is the dumbest thing you have ever said.”, “You’re so cute when  you’re drunk.” and “You drove all the way here just to bring me soup?” notes: we are on day 2 of the birthday countdown of fic week! i’ve honestly been having so much fun writing these. this one is just sweet sweet fluff that will rot your teeth. Small masterlist of the fic week can be found here. warnings: none word count: 1.7k!

---

You knew that Calum wouldn’t be mad at you. It was a rare time in LA when the temperature had dropped enough to be considered cold and it was your bad luck that you got sick.

You knew he’d planned something special but with every part of your body hurting, you knew you wouldn’t be able to make it off your bed, let alone out of your house.

‘I know you had something planned but I can’t move without hurting. Sorry :(‘

Your eyes had tiredly watched the grey bubble appear, focusing on the movement. You didn’t even notice your eyes were slipping closed.

Your phone dropped to the mattress just as Calum’s reply came through, a soft snore escaping your lips as his text lit up the screen.

‘I’ll drop by after practice and look after you. That way you might actually eat something.’

When Calum had finished up at practise for the day and shown up at yours, he let himself in with the key you’d given him six months after you’d gotten together. He’d done the same a month later, gifting you with a key to his place.

As he manoeuvred through your place, he dropped the carrier bag containing the various soups he’d picked up for you, leaving them on the side for the moment before he continued his search for you.

Cracking open your bedroom door, his heart melted at the sight of you curled on your side, your phone in the empty space where he’d usually be. Moving slowly and carefully, he moved your phone from the bed before sinking down into it, feeling amusement flood him as you turned towards him, your arms seemingly searching for him.

“Hey princess.” He murmured when your arm had wrapped around his waist. It took you a solid moment to realise that Calum was actually sat there.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Your words were half slurred, exhaustion evident as you pressed yourself into his side. He smiled.

“You’re so cute when you’re drunk.” He teased as you fought to keep your eyes open. You groaned at him as your face buried into the pillow, making him chuckle.

“M’not drunk, asshole. M’sick.” You grumbled softly and he let his fingers trace against your cheek slowly, his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Why’re you here? Don’t want you gettin’ sick.” Despite your words, you leaned into his touch.

It was always like this with him, unable to resist the smaller touches the two of you shared. It was a side that he showed only for you, and it was a side of him that you cherished. Many of your favourite nights had been just lay together, hands skimming over the other as you watched a sitcom or had soft music playing as you quietly talked about your days.

“My favourite girl is sick. The guys can survive without me for a few days.” He whispered, lips lips pressing against your forehead.

“You’re gonna get sick.” You groaned and he snorted before shaking his head.

“Even if I do, it just means we can be sick together.” His words made you blink for a second, trying to process what he actually said. He raised an eyebrow at you before you lifted your hand, placing the back of it against his forehead, before moving to his cheeks.

He laughed before his arms circled around you, pulling you closer to him and you groaned in protest.

“That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, Hood. I thought I’d gotten delirious from fever for a second because it sounded like you’re trying to get sick just for an excuse to stay with me.”

Calum grinned as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and you tried to pull away, determined to not get him sick.

“C’mon princess, is it not the best idea in the world? It means we can both cuddle together, although I’m going to cuddle you regardless.” His grip tightened around you and you knew in that moment that any argument you had was lost.

Especially when he pushed his lips out into a pout and you whined in return.

“You can’t do that to me Hood. You know I’m a weak ass bitch for that pout.” You muttered and you could see that he was fighting the smile, his lips twitching before he gave in, a laugh escaping his lips seconds later.

“It’s only fair, considering I can never say no to you, love.” He murmured. This time, you didn’t fight him as his lips met the skin of your forehead and you sighed in response.

“Get out of those jeans, no, nothing like that.” You added on hastily at the smirk that rapidly spread across his lips. “You’re in skinny jeans, dumbass. If you want to snuggle, get changed into something comfy and I might consider cuddling.”

Calum finally let go of you, pushing himself off the bed before rummaging through the drawer of stuff he left at yours. Whilst he was getting changed, you half dragged yourself from bed, your body protesting the movement as you shuffled through to the kitchen.

Getting yourself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as you tried to gain your breath, you felt somewhat ridiculous.

You could feel the few beads of sweat and you felt like you’d run a mile. Your body was protesting, your joints aching as you downed half the glass. You suddenly realised why Calum had been so insistent on staying with you and when he appeared at the kitchen doorway, with a raised eyebrow and his arms crossed over his chest, you could only give him a sheepish smile in response.

“I was thirsty?” You tried, your tone quiet. The unimpressed looked you received in return had you glancing down at your feet.

A sigh followed before fingers were tucked under your chin, tilting your head up. Your eyes met his and he gave you the briefest of smiles.

“Let me look after you, princess. You’re not well. I already warned the guys after I got your text, so they know I’m skipping out on practice for the rest of the week. If I get sick because I’m looking after you, then it just means more days in bed with you.” He murmured and you sighed, your body relaxing into his.

“Sorry, I just feel bad that you’re looking after me.”

“Does it look like I’m not okay with it? Princess, I’m wounded you’d even think that. I even brought you soup.” He teased playfully. “I’m fine with looking after you and it means more time with you. Who wouldn’t say no to that?” Calum hummed quietly and your eyebrows rose up slightly in amusement.

“So you drove all the way here just to bring me soup?” He groaned, resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re impossible. Here I am, trying to tell you that I want to look after you and all you can pick up on is that I brought soup over. Is there a receipt around somewhere so I can take you back to the store?” You giggled, your hands resting on his chest as you tilted your head a small fraction, your lips meeting his. It was a short, sweet kiss, causing his lips to break out into a shy smile and his arms moved so that they were wrapped around you, pulling your body flush against his.

“I love you so much, you know that right?” He murmured. Your heart skipped a beat every time he told you. Whether it was during or after sex, on quiet drives around the city at night, on hikes up the local hills with Duke in tow, it never failed to make your heart flutter.

It was the soft moments you shared when he murmured those words to you that you loved. It was just you two, and a love that you held so carefully because the heart in your hands had been hurt before. And so when he first said those words after a night spent at his and you’d been trying to cook breakfast for the two of you, you dropped nearly dropped the pan because you’d been so caught off guard.

He’d laughed seconds later when you muttered “I love you too, but we’re going to have issues if you don’t help me clean the mess you helped cause.”

But in this moment, full of a cold and he was still saying those words that made your heart swell.

“I do know it. And I know that you know I love you just as much.” You murmured in return and his lips curved up into a cheeky grin.

“Someone’s been watching too much FRIENDS.” You snorted at that.

“No, I’m just feeling delirious and exhausted. Wait---Cal!” You protested as he picked you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist so the two of you wouldn’t tumble to the floor.

“Princess, you looked like you were going to pass out when I got to the kitchen. I wasn’t about to make you walk back to your room.”

You groaned, but didn’t protest any further as he dropped you on the bed, ditching the shirt he was wearing and despite the beautiful sight before you, a groan escaped your lips.

“I swear to god, if you even utter anything along the lines of sex is good when you’re not well, I will take your soup cans and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine.” You warned him and he laughed as he tossed his shirt onto his pile of clothes before crawling into bed beside you.

“I promise you, I won’t try anything unless you want it. But I know you like tracing my tattoos, even when you can’t see them. So I figured it’d be a small thing to make you feel somewhat human.” If your heart wasn’t melted already, it certainly was now.

As you settled yourself into his side, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I really do love you.” You murmured softly as his arm wrapped around you, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

“I love you too, princess.”

---

tag list: @cals-babylons , @glitterprincelu , @calumspeachy , @wrappedaroundcal , @cosmocalum , @mistletoemichael , @talkfastfletcher , @hereforlukescruff , @astroashtonio , @catchinqcalum , @roselukes , @5saucewho, @babylon-uncrowned , @dontstopisagoodsongchangemymind , @therainydays4 , @asht0ns-world , @silverchainbee , @hidd3nfangirl , @doodleasouarus , @empathycth , @mylovehes , @songforhema , @kinglyhood , @youngblood199456 , @makecoffeenotwars , @5squash , @negative-love , @softboycal , @kinglycalum , @you-of-ghost , @meetyoutheremgc , @lmao5sosimagines , @lietoash , @aw-hawkeye , @biggestslutforcalum , @drummerboy794 , @itjustkindahappenedreally, @mycollectionofnuts , @coreybryanttrash , @abitloudforanaccousticset , @boytoynamedcalum , @teampreator , @dukehoods , @dweebluke , @calumhampton , @lashtoncurls , @toofadedtofight , @gigglyirwin , @blue-skies-are-alright , @hearts-to-the-sky , @tiddlerrr , @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you , @thesensationalcalum , @ashtxns-hxe , @cakeassx-blog , @dancingonanemptywallet , @rotten-kandy , @vipclifford , @musiclover1263 , @rosecoloredash , @jpgluke , @cathartichaoss , @5secondssofssummer , @cozyfivesos , @balsamichood , @cliffordstxngue , @lukesbellas , @myloverboyash , @cxddlyash  , @gabiatthedisco , @rosesfromcth , @gorgeouslygrace , @glitterlukey , 

[reesewestonarchive]

chapter four / rem belongs to @forlornraven / masterpost / mature content

Music pulses through Nakoa’s legs, and Jenna’s body sways against Nakoa’s, pressed against him as close as she can go. She smells like mangoes, like sweat.

Nakoa inhales against her neck, licks a long line up to her jaw, sucks against it. She shudders underneath him, and Nakoa grins as she takes his hand, presses it beneath her jeans. She turns her head, pupils blown wide, and she says, “Wanna go back to mine?”

Yes. Absolutely. Nakoa feels a buzz in his veins he hasn’t in a while at the prospect, and—”Yeah. You bet.”

He’s not sure where Rem is, but he’s been gone all day. left that morning, didn’t come back, even though the car still sits in the parking lot at the motel. At least, it did, before Nakoa took to the streets to find something to take his mind of it, off of wondering where Rem was.

Probably wasted in the back alley of some bar, still downing a bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered off of some unsuspecting bartender.

Or—maybe he’s doing exactly what Nakoa’s doing now, finding somebody to bury his dick into, get off without the mountain of complications.

It’s been three days, and between sightseeing and sleep, they’re only just west of Denver, in some shitty small town that reminds Nakoa of Withervale just a little too much, but the girls are attractive, and the guys look like they could punch Nakoa out if he stared a little too long, and Rem’s been in a bad mood since Baldie.

Nakoa’ll take his chances, he thinks, with Jenna. He asks, “Are you far?” and grins when she shudders as he touches her.

He goes home with Jenna, and tries not to think of Rem when he comes.

Jenna offers to give him a ride back to the motel, but in the aftermath Nakoa really just wants a fucking shower, to wash what feels like a layer of filth off of him, and some awkward fifteen minute drive across town isn’t going to make him feel any better.

And it’s not cold out, anyway. “I’m good,” he says, as he tugs on jeans. Jean covers herself with her sheet, cocks her head to the side.

“You okay?” Her tone is just this side of concerned; she’s being polite, but Nakoa can tell she’s not really interested in the answer.

“Yeah,” he says, then, for a reason he doesn’t know, he says, “just complicated.”

“Aw,” Jenna says, sitting at the end of her bed. “I know complicated.” She gives him a glance, then says, “You a cool guy?”

Nakoa’s a loser. Unemployed and homeless and traveling across the country without any kind of a fucking plan, in search of a better life he’s not sure he’s ever going to find. Mediocrity feels less like a shadow hunting him and more like the prize at the end of the race.

Is he running away from it, or running towards it?

“I guess.” She can’t be talking about that.

“My girlfriend and I are kind of on a break.” She shrugs. “And it’s so stupid.”

“Relationships are complicated,” Nakoa says. He pulls his shirt over his head. “My…” but the word doesn’t come. What is Rem? His best friend? It’s not untrue, but he’s reasonably sure most best friends don’t fuck.

Most.

Is there a word for something in the middle, between romantic and friendly?

As she watches him, Jenna seems to pick up what’s going through his head. “Oh,” she says, pointing a finger at him. “You got it bad.”

“I do not.”

“And I thought me and my girl were complicated.”

For some reason, that pisses Nakoa off more. “There’s no girl.”

It’s the first time he’s even come close to saying the word out loud. Nakoa knows there’s a word for who he is, but it still feels wrong when he says it, when he thinks it. Not the attraction—there’s merit in sleeping with all kinds of people—but the word. The way people see it and think disgusting. Heathen.

“Oh.” Jenna’s voice is soft, and she stands. “So. Same boat.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

They kiss before Nakoa leaves, just because Jenna enjoys it, just because she asks, and Nakoa agrees because she showed him a good time, and it’s the least he can do. He wishes her good luck with her girlfriend and stomps back to the hotel room.

Where Rem sits, outside of it, empty fifth clutched between his knees. He doesn’t hear Nakoa approach, but he does react when Nakoa touches his shoulder, jerks away like Nakoa’s burned him.

“About fucking time,” he says, and his voice is like a river, watery and rushing, tripping over itself in his eagerness to speak. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Sorry,” Nakoa says. Doesn’t point out that Rem has a key, too. He unlocks the door. He tugs on Rem’s arm, and the whiskey bottle falls to the sidewalk, crashes and breaks. Nakoa leaves it. “Did you drink all of that?”

“It’s—” He hiccups. “Bottom shelf, don’t get hissy.”

Nakoa took… something, at the club, earlier, before he went home with Jenna. He’s awfully fucking hypocritical if he tells Rem that he can’t do this. At least he came back. At least they got away from Baldie. From Withervale.

Drunk and alive is better than the alternative.

He draws Rem into the shower, starts taking off his clothes, and Rem says, “Ooh, am I gonna fuck you over the counter?”

“Keep dreaming,” Nakoa says, as he pulls off Rem’s jeans. He’s cold, so Nakoa warms the water and shoves him under the stream. Rem yelps, but relaxes into the hot, if lacking pressure, water. His entire body goes slack as it cascades over him.

Nakoa turns away, doesn’t watch, as tempting as it is. “You get back okay?”

Rem laughs. “Please. Liquor store’s not that far away. Where’d you get off to?”

“Girl I met at the club.” Nakoa pitches his voice higher, to be heard over the water. “You have a good time?”

“Better when you’re there.”

But he didn’t ask. He’d blazed through cities, the last forty eight hours, taking small roads instead of highways, getting lost and debating over the map with Nakoa multiple times, and.

“Missed you,” Rem says, his voice quiet. Nakoa wonders if he even said it at all. If maybe he imagined it. He’s been wanting to hear Rem say it for so long. Hoping for some kind of sign.

But no.

The water shuts off, and Nakoa makes his way back out into the room, digs in Rem’s bag until he finds something suitable for bed for him. The idiot’ll pass out on the bed, if he doesn’t, and Nakoa’ll end up with none of the blanket instead.

Rem stands in the threshold to the bathroom, though, and Nakoa glances up at him, just once, before turning back to the task at hand.

“I mean it,” Rem says.

Means what? “Sure.” T-shirt, underwear. It’ll work. Someday, when Nakoa’s not counting every penny, he’ll buy Rem some new clothes, fi him back in with the style.

Nakoa, though. He needs a job, first. Something simple, something under the table. A stable place in LA, or somewhere else, because he and Rem are living off of gas station snacks and Nakoa’s stomach is protesting bite of food he eats.

But every mile between him and Withervale feels a little more like flying

He gives Rem his clothes, and before he can turn away, Rem’s fingers reach out, wrap around his wrist. His voice is soft, unlike him, when he says, “Nakoa,” and Nakoa looks up, studies the lines in Rem’s face, the curve of his cheekbones, the arch of his eyebrows.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he lifts a shoulder in a shrug and holds uncertainty deep in his chest like an old friend. Rem strokes his thumb down Nakoa’s wrist, and there’s a short glimpse of a smile before he lifts one hand, the one holding his towel, and pulls Nakoa in, forehead to forehead, whiskey strong on his breath.

Nakoa breathes it in, lets his eyes fall close as the towel unravels at Rem’s feet, as Rem closes the distance between them.

Rem tastes like whiskey, like freedom, like betrayal, but Nakoa can’t complain if he tastes like someone else. He accepts the kiss for whatever it is, and pulls back. Taps his fingers against Rem’s chest and says, “I’m pretty tired, man.”

It’s not a denial, but Rem’s different, shitfaced, whiskey heavy on his lips and in his limbs, and Nakoa likes him normal, likes him sober, likes the way he lingers. Often, Nakoa wonders if he imagines the lingering.

He doesn’t question it. But the stark difference between sober and drunk feels like night and day, and Nakoa would rather not.

If Rem asks, the answer is yes. But Nakoa prefers not giving him the opportunity to ask. It’s easier to deny him.

Sometime in the night, Rem wakes and vomits over the side of the bed. Nakoa m, eyes heavy with sleep, says nothing. Presses himself against Rem’s back when he’s done, wracking his brain for a song. Settles in on “Friday I’m in Love” after he decides The Clash might be too fast.

His forehead is sweaty against Rem’s shoulder blades. But he doesn’t pull away, keeps humming for Rem well after the song is through, continuing with Modern English and Simple Minds.

“You don't have to do this.”

Nakoa doesn’t falter in his humming, just drops a hand over Rem’s waist and tugs him in.

He pressed his mouth against Rem’s skin, not like a kiss, bur as much like one as he dares. He hums, holds Rem’s denial behind his teeth, doesn’t answer.

-

“Clutch,” Rem says, pressing on Nakoa’s left knee. “Middle is brake. Right’s gas.” He taps the gear shift. “So, driving. Ease off the gas a bit, onto the clutch, shift, off the clutch, onto the gas.”

Nakoa blinks. His heart beats, strong and steady in his chest. “And to move?”

Rem’s voice holds its tone when he speaks, walks Nakoa through the steps. The car stalls under Nakoa’s guidance the first three times, but Rem pushes him forward, encouragement heavy in his words, and Nakoa’s chest swells with pride when he can finally drive his way across the parking lot.

They traded in the junker for this piece of shit, more torn up than the last. It smells like weed and vomit and pine trees, but it gets better mileage, and the speakers aren't blown out, and Rem won fifteen hundred in a bet on the game two nights ago.

The Earth feels less like Jello beneath Nakoa's feet.

Rem grips his thigh when Nakoa turns through the parking lot, pleased as he lets out a yell, and—oh.

Nakoa kills the engine, and the car comes to a slow stop. “Fuck.”

But Rem waves it away. “It’s great! Shit, I burnt out Billi’s clutch the first time I tried—” But at the mention of his mother, Rem’s expression falls. He shoves open the door, says, “Enough for today.”

They’re in Utah. Have been for a few days, after replacing the windshield in Colorado, after Jenna.

Yesterday, Nakoa got inexplicably homesick, stared at a payphone for five minutes, and convinced himself not to call.

Barely.

They settle into each other’s seats. The beauty of this van, Nakoa realizes, is that it isn’t; an old, clunker of a beast, with the back seats torn out and a sunroof modded in. Except for showers, they don’t need motels anymore.

Their trip got a hell of a lot cheaper. And, heading into LA, Nakoa’s not sure how far their money will go.

Relieved to be out of the driver’s seat, back under Rem’s practiced hand, Nakoa reaches for the cigarettes and lights up.

His voice echoes. “Think we can find a mattress?”

“One that isn’t covered in shit or blood?” Rem shrugs. “Guess we’ll find out.”

They do; kind of. They definitely find the mattress. An old, stained old thing from an old woman in the city, who’s upgrading for her and her husband. She takes one look at the van, one look at Nakoa and Rem, and pats Rem’s hand with a twinkle in her eye. “I expect you boys will get plenty of use out of it.”

She winks at Nakoa, and Nakoa offers her an uncertain smile. Rem looks like his head is going to blow off if she doesn’t let go of it.

The manhandle the mattress into the back of the van after Nakoa hands over the twenty. The mattress isn’t stained, isn’t old, but it’s floral and weak and smells of mothballs, and when Nakoa shuts the door to the passenger seat, it already reeks of old perfume in the van.

Rem sits next to him, quiet and pensive. Doesn’t start the van.

Nakoa waits, but ten minutes and he’s still sitting there. “What?”

“What’d she mean by that?”

By… what? “Who?”

“Getting use out of it. That’s not fucked up to you?”

For the— “Rem, she probably meant with girls.”

“…Right.”

“You’re really worried about what some random old woman has to say about shit?” Nakoa’s not exactly out and proud, but this isn’t under his skin. Rem picks at what’s left of the polish on his nails, his body tense and unforgiving. “Rem.”

“Never mind.”

He’s ashamed, then; that’s what that means. His mothers, he has mothers, and he still feels shame. Nakoa’s own family makes jokes at the expense of people like them, has told him that if one of their children was queer they’d set them straight, and Rem’s the one sitting here worried about what this old woman thinks of them.

But it’s not anger that courses through Nakoa’s veins, thinking that. Instead, confusion muddles his brain. He tries to think of something, anything, to make him feel better, but there’s nothing. Not words, anyway. Nakoa licks his lips, he’s about to suggest that they go to a park, or an abandoned parking garage or something and they can christen the new mattress, but Rem puts the van gear and drives off.

They hit up a department store for the sheets, and Nakoa spends twenty minutes glaring at on-sale camping gear trying to find sleeping bags that don’t look like shit while Rem searches for pillows, and Nakoa feels the weight of his remaining money in his pocket like a brick.

He’s not sure how much is left. Between the van, the motels, food, Nakoa’s sure it’s dwindling. Rem says nothing, just brings home dinner, whiskey, less and less every day.

 Nakoa buys the blankets. What else are they supposed to do—go back home?

They find a place on an empty road, far from the city, that night, coyotes howling in the distance, a small campfire built out of the back end of the van. Rem hangs his legs off the van, stares up at the sky. A bottle of whiskey sits between his legs. Bowie plays softly in the background.

Nakoa’s not sure of the last time he’d been this happy. In Utah, of all places, so far from home that Withervale feels like a separate fucking planet.

In the clear night, the glow of the crackling fire, Nakoa wonders if Rem would agree. If he seems happy, or if he is happy. Rem never fucking talks to him, tells him to fuck off if Nakoa gets too close. If he missteps. He’s a jackass.

Nakoa’s afraid of how much he likes him anyway. If, once they get to LA, if Rem will enjoy it. If he’ll enjoy it too much.

He reaches for the whiskey, pleased by the noise Rem makes as he goes for it. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Rem’s laugh comes stark and surprising, echoes across the empty space, and Nakoa wants to kiss him until he feels that warmth through his entire body. “Probably the only thing I can get up right now.”

Snorting, Nakoa lifts the whiskey to his lips, savors the taste, the taste, and heat that pools in his stomach. “This is,” he says, but doesn’t know what he wants to say. Captivated by the stars, by the scenery. But Rem’s quiet, comforting presence beside him—

Nakoa wants to kiss him. Press him into the flowery, old mattress behind them and undress him, kiss down his chest and blow him, press into him until Nakoa’s name rests on his lips soft and tense. Until Rem clenches his teeth and his groan comes from his chest and.

Fuck. He wants, so much, to make Rem feel so good that he forgets what the world has done to him. 

“I’ve thought about living off the land before. Away from the city. Own a little farm or something.” An orchard. Some goats. Chickens, the modern dinosaurs they are, and Nakoa presses his finger against the ankylosaurus tattoo on his side. Thinks back to the artist that did it for him, briefly, and what he’s doing.

If he remembers Nakoa at all.

“Get the fuck away from people,” Rem says. He sounds tired, now, drunk. He hops from the van and kicks dirt over the fire. It’s dark enough that Nakoa can’t make out Rem’s features without direct light.

“Yeah.” But not Rem. “Dunno. Don’t wanna get kicked in the head, either.” Doesn’t want to give Rem up. He holds that deep inside his chest, though, locked away where he hopes Rem won’t find it, where Nakoa himself won’t be tempted to look.

When Rem says nothing, Nakoa crawls up the mattress, knees scraping the cool metal of the floor of the van. He tugs one of the sleeping bags over his body, presses his face into his pillow and sighs.

He’s not sure when Rem shuts the door and joins him, but Rem lies there, on his back, until Nakoa’s loopy with exhaustion and alcohol, and on the verge of sleep. Nakoa hears him say, “I—”

And then Nakoa passes out.

[borhapstyles]

Two Weeks

Prompt: “Could you do an imagine where the reader and harry broke up a week ago but he already has a new girlfriend and the reader gets upset but he tries to explain shes a fake girlfriend but the reader doesnt listen. Happy ending please !” -anon

Changed it to a couple of weeks instead of just one, hope you don’t mind! 

Warnings: None (At least I don’t think?) Word Count: 4.2k 

A restless sigh escapes your chest as your eyes scour the room. The familiar feeling blankets itself upon you once again, the feeling of impotence. Your mind is moving a million miles a minute, dictating to do with your day. 

Laundry, reply to emails, finish season two of Queer Eye, read up on recipes and finally cook for the first time in weeks.  

But your body cannot seem to get up from the edge of the bed. 

It still feels too much like him, the room. The crumpled bed sheets beneath you aren’t even really yours; they belong to him but became yours when you moved in together. 

Your fingers tap on the mattress as you shut your eyes, tears building up. 

It had been two weeks which in your eyes was a bit of time, yet no time at all. You could still hear the door shutting from that night and feel the stillness of the room after things had quieted down. 

Your eyes peek through to the bathroom, where three weeks ago that day he was standing with just a towel around his waist and a toothbrush in his hand. He moved fervently and you just chuckled to yourself at the abuse the pink toothbrush was receiving. His cheeks turned up at the sound and he turned to you with bright eyes. 

But those bright eyes are no more. 

-

Harry’s dull eyes examine his drained visage. The water from the faucet below him runs and it takes him a few moments to register that he’s left the sink on. Dark circles seem to pack on even more than usual- Lou is going to have some strong words with him today. 

He glances out the door of the bathroom into a room that is comfortable but not home to him. Three weeks ago he would’ve found you sitting on the edge with your cheeks dyed rose, gazing at him with admiration. Now all he sees is an empty, unmade bed, burning in the sunlight. 

A hollowness furnishes his chest as he thinks back to the time. God, he misses you like crazy. But the words exchanged between the two of you were so harsh, perhaps too harsh. There’s no turning back from that. Or is there?

“Harry!” Thundering knocks permeates his thoughts. “I’ve got to head out today but I‘ve left you some french toast on the table! Make sure you clean up afterwards!” 

A faint smile pokes at Harry’s face. He had gone to stay with Gemma for a bit after your break-up, just until he could find a new place to move into. The flat, as decided the night you two parted, would be yours since his home in LA, in your words, “has seen more of him in the last eight months than she or their flat have.” His sister, no matter how old they got, would always make sure to look after her baby brother. 

“Thanks Gem! I’ll see you later!” He shouts back before throwing his toothbrush back into its holder. 

Perhaps. He thinks to himself whilst staring at the bed. Perhaps. 

-

“How are you holding up?” Your best friend echoes through your phone. You stand with a cookbook open in your kitchen, flipping through pages to try and find a meal that looks appetizing but easy to make. 

“Well, you know.”

Your friend sighs through the phone and the honk of a car horn in the background.

“What am I supposed to do, Y/BF/N, it still hurts. And it doesn’t help that some of his shit’s still here.” 

“You need to go out, okay, or do something fun at least. And maybe sell his things, you can make a lot out of that.”

“I am doing fun things!” You defend yourself. “Cooking is very entertaining.”

“It’s been two weeks, Y/N. At least come out with me today-” Your sigh cuts into her plea.��“Come on, just for a couple hours, and if you decide that your couch and Netflix needs you more, then you can go home.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll go, but give me an hour to get ready and everything.”

“I’m already on my way with breakfast for the both of us, I’ll just let myself in.”

- 

Nothing can describe what Harry is feeling right now. Absolutely nothing. 

“And you two are going to take a stroll down the Mayfair district...” The PR’s coordinator’s voice is saturated by the immense displeasure that is now occupying the whole of him. 

A fake girlfriend? Harry wasn’t 18 anymore. He thought getting out of One Direction also meant getting away from the bullshit of fake-dating for the press, but everything comes at a price apparently.

His head shakes feverishly as the press manager’s words register in his brain.

“Your breakup with Y/N is sad, yes, but imagine how much will stir up if you’re seen with someone else two weeks later! The amount of people that will Google your name, you won’t even believe...” 

Anger? Grief? Agitation? 

There are no words, as perhaps it is a mixture of all. 

His phone in front of him buzzes and he hopes for a second that it’s you. But why would you call? After what he said? It’s just Niall, checking up on him.

“Harry?” His head shoots up to meet the eyes of his own manager. “You alright?”

The manager of Clara, his fake girlfriend for who knows how long, looks at Harry with an expectant face. 

“No.” He firmly replies, tangling his hands together. The rest of the employees in the room whip their heads around, studying his next move.

“Is it really necessary for us to hold hands?”

Clara’s manager, Leslie, purses her lips, exhaling. “Yes, Harry. You do, how else are you meant to prove that there’s a relationship between you two?”

“I’ve seen people assume the worst from a lot less, the press can write what they will but I’m sure they can take a lot from us walking around.” Harry reasons. As much as he doesn’t want to sound like he’s pleading, he truly is desperate to do as little as possible in this situation. 

“It’s true.” H’s manager steps in, trying to defend his client. Though he wants the best for Harry’s career, he doesn’t want him to suffer either. 

“I-I don’t know.” Leslie sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Hold hands, don’t hold hands, as long as it gets the message across, do whatever it takes.”

From the other end of the room, a silent Clara makes a small noise of exhaustion as she stares at the ground. Harry peers at her for a moment, empathy creeping in. She just wanted to be an actress and be known for her own talents, not written in as Harry Styles’s girlfriend. He frowns, understanding her position.

“I think we’re all set here, yeah? We all ready to head out?” 

No, but I’m going to have to anyways. Harry thinks to himself. 

- 

“See! This is nice, right! You’re in the car, we’re driving around London...” Your best friend nudges. You roll your eyes but smile at their efforts, resting a hand on the window to hold your head up.

“I’m not seeing anything I haven’t seen before.” 

“Oh come on.” They groan. “We’re going out to buy you new shoes! It’s going to be eventful, at least more so than sitting at home and rewatching Thor: Ragnarok!”

“Hey!” You shout. “Watching Ragnarok is the best thing I can do for myself. Thor is-”

“Okay, okay. I know, Thor is everything.” 

The conversation continues on to other TV shows and before you know it, you’re in Chelsea for a bit of shopping. 

“What are we doing in on Oxford Street? Westfield not enough?” You ask sarcastically before shutting the car door.

“Not for a break-up like this.” Your friend replies and you laugh, realising for at least the entirety of the car ride, you did not think about Harry. 

As you are making your way to the first shop, you see several paparazzi lounging around, as if waiting for someone to arrive. You shrug, thinking it must be for the Beckham family or someone else as it isn’t unusual for celebrities to be shopping in London.

-

“Try not to look so grim.” Harry’s manager instructs through the phone as he exits the car. He hangs up before sighing, tugging his coat closer for the upcoming task. 

His eyes case the area, noting the several paps already getting their cameras ready. Bystanders shoot their heads up and Harry makes eye contact with some, waving with a short smile. Some wave back, most simply stare in shock.

“Ready then?” Clara’s voice breaks through to him. He looks at her and nods before they begin their walk. Much to Harry’s pleasure, they had agreed that holding hands was a bit too much and would seem unnatural, so they opted to stroll close by each other, pretending to be in deep conversation.

“What sort of films do you act in?” Harry asks. 

“Oh, nothing big just yet, I’ve mainly been doing TV appearances. I did a bit for BBC and a couple things in The States but I’m really trying to get into a dramatic role sometime soon.”

Harry nods. “I see, I see. I wish you luck with that.” 

He tries his best to be interested but her soft voice reminds him too much of your sweetness. If only it were you walking by him, then he would have no trouble looking in love. He wouldn’t have to pretend.

"So, I saw Dunkirk when it premiered...” Her voice drowns out once he hears something else.

No, oh no it couldn’t be.

But it is.

It’s your laugh, live and in person from a few meters away. He’s never shot his head up so fast. 

For a moment he’s stunned. He can see from your face that you haven’t exactly been having the easiest couple of weeks either, but by the sound of your laughter and the looks of you with your best friend, you were okay.

He watches intently as you enter the shop. Clara’s urgent voice prods at him.

“Harry? Harry?”

He snaps his head towards Clara, brows furrowed.

“Ye-Yeah, sorry. What?”

“I was asking about working with Fionn Whitehead.” He blinks for a few seconds, trying to get back into the right headspace, not that the one he was in before he saw you was any better.

“He’s great, he’s fantastic. I-uh...” The two walk past the shop you are now in and he catches a glimpse of you trying on some shoes through the window.

“He’s what? Haz?”

“Please don’t call me that.” Harry speaks sharply, sending Clara in a frantic, apologetic state.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, I’ve seen Y/N call you that-”

“No, no, I’m sorry as well. I’m not in a very happy mood at the moment and hearing that, especially since Y/N used to call me that... it isn’t very good for me I don’t think.” He solemnly replies. 

Photographers begin their session, keeping their distance but shout vulgar things. 

“Are you guys dating now? What happened to Y/N!”

“Is it true that you were cheating on Y/N with Clara Hughes?”

“Wow, two weeks and you’ve already moved on? That’s quicker than the Kardashians! Bravo Styles!”

Harry seethes and Clara makes note of his demeanour, placing an arm on his shoulder. The flashes increase with the gesture and Harry stiffens.

“Let’s go inside the cafe.” She nudges and he only follows her movements.

-

“Jeez, who the hell is that?” 

You glance over at your friend whose face is scrunched in displeasure.

“That swarm over there, is that the queen or something?” You follow your friend’s gaze to the large cluster of paparazzi. You remember being in that swarm, clutching on to Harry tightly as he wraps his arm around you, trying to shield you from all the words and flashes. 

You grip the shopping bag in your hand tighter.

“Dunno, maybe.” You reply. For a second you think you see Harry’s boots underneath the group but they disappear into the coffee shop before you can even tell.

“On to the next shop?” Your friend suggests and you nod slowly, moving past the cafe and past Harry.

-

Hours later you return home with your best friend. Your body aches from a day full of shopping but you’re thankful that your friend convinced you to go out. Walking the streets of London never fails to do wonders for your soul, even if this time it’s without Harry.

“Thank you for agreeing to stay over, by the way.” You say to your best friend whilst locking the apartment door behind you.

“Oh please, if I wasn’t around I don’t think you would’ve gotten up today.”

You shake your head laughing at the half-truth before opening the fridge. “I’m going to get the pasta started.” 

“Fantastic, I’ll just be in the bathroom for a bit.” Your best friend calls out and you reply an “Okay”. 

Whilst waiting for the water to boil, you grab your phone and out of habit, click on twitter. You are on private and didn’t have a wide range of followers but you did still have one person following you to your surprise: Harry. You quickly click to see your timeline and wait patiently as it refreshes but before you can look at the first meme, your best friend runs out to you in a panic. 

“Y/N! Y/N Y/N!” You almost drop your phone at the frantic tone of her voice. 

“What, what?! Is something wrong? What’s happened?!”

 “Don’t check twitter, please don’t.” She breathes out heavily, her hair a mess from rushing out of the bathroom so quickly.

“Okay, but why did you have to tell me n-“ “Just, don’t check it. Or Instagram, don’t. Or even snapchat. You know what, just don’t use your phone tonight, okay?” 

“Would you mind telling me why it’s so bad for me to?” She bites her lip and sighs, contemplating if she should even bother. It would kill you to see what she saw. Hell, it killed her as your best friend when she saw photos of Harry with another girl. She can’t even imagine how you would feel, considering it’s only been two weeks and she just got you in a better mood. 

“I-I can’t, not right now. After I shower, maybe. But please, don’t check your phone while I’m gone, okay?” You reluctantly agree. Your best friend wouldn’t go through all this trouble if it wasn’t important. 

Now if only she could shower faster so you could find out what was so troubling. 

-

“Harry!”

 Harry’s head whips up at Gemma’s shout. He climbs out of bed to greet Gemma for the first time since this morning.

 “What is this?” Gemma shoves her phone in his face which, much to his displeasure, is remnants of today’s events. “It’s literally only been two weeks, Harry, and you’ve already gone out with someone else? I thought Y/N was the love of your life?! I know mum-“ 

“It wasn’t by choice, Gem!” He shouts. “It wasn’t by choice.” 

Gemma’s mouth closes at her younger brother’s words. She steps further into Harry’s room, slumping down on his bed. 

“I guess, they’re trying to get some more news out there about me and apparently capitalising on my breakup by setting me up with someone else was the thing to do.” He utters, voice laced with disgust. He felt used. He felt confused. He felt like he didn’t know himself. It almost makes him chuckle- a couple weeks without you and he’s almost lost himself. 

“I tried to fight it but I just couldn’t, Gem.” Harry speaks. The bed dips as he takes a seat next to his sister. “I didn’t have it in me to. I felt so powerless. I haven’t felt like myself and I didn’t know what to do.”

 “Oh, Harry.” Gemma frowns, wrapping her hands around her brother. Tears fill the brims of Harry’s eyes and he leans over to his sister. “Now she’s going to see them and she isn’t going to speak to me again.” 

For the first time, Gemma is at a loss for words. She wants to help Harry but if she knows anything about you for the two years you’ve been with Harry, she knows you’re almost as stubborn as he is and won’t have any of this explanation.

But if she also knows you, she knows you and Harry are still very much in love will eventually go back to each other. 

“Why did you two break up in the first place?” Her brows furrow as she realises that Harry never gave her a firm explanation. He just showed up at her doorstep one day, eyes red and hair disheveled. “I never pushed for an explanation but it’d be nice to know so I can help.”

“We got too busy for each other.”

“Harry, that’s no reason to-”

“It is. Or rather, it was. I’m on the road like seven months out of the year and if I’m not touring I’m in the studio or doing something for the press. Obviously with her new job she can’t leave as much if at all like when she was in uni.”

Gemma stares into the hardwood floors of her guest bedroom. Her brother’s managed to make this room feel lonelier than ever in a span of just a few days.

“A few days after I got back, we got into an argument over something small, something petty. I can’t even remember what it was about. But she just went off on me about how we hardly see each other and I guess it was buildin’ up for her because she sat me down and eventually said she can’t do it anymore.” Tears tumble over Harry’s cheeks as he thinks back to the day. “I mean, can you blame her for not wanting to be with someone who’s never ‘round?”

“Harry-”

“I should’ve fought harder, Gem. But I didn’t...” He sniffles, wiping away tears with his wrists. “and now she’s going to see those photos and think I’m some womanizer, just like all the papers.”

“She will not think that, Harry.” Gemma states firmly. She lays a hand onto his shoulder before reaching over to give him a tissue. “If she paid any attention to you over these two years, if she knows you at all, then she knows you are far from a womanizer.” 

Harry’s lips purse together as his slouch grows deeper. He doesn’t know what to do with himself and he’s scared to do anything else.

“I don’t believe anyone would just throw away two years together unless there was some bigger reason. And for you two, there isn’t. She knew what she was getting herself into and obviously she loved you. Loves you, still.” Gemma pats Harry as he continues to stay quiet. She can see the gears turning inside his head and holds back a small chuckle. 

“You need to go see her.” She whispers into the silence of his room. 

-

“Rumours have it that Harry and Clara are moving in with each other as today they were looking at furniture in the Mayfair district?!” You screech, reading the article from People magazine. 

“Please don’t throw-” Your best friend is cut off as you slam your phone down into the couch before shoving your own head inside a pillow to scream.

“It’s been two fucking weeks! TWO! Who the fuck does he think he is?!” 

Your best friend shakes her head. “A bastard, that’s who. He’s a complete dickhead and honestly, I can’t believe you ever went out with him.” 

“I can’t believe that this is actually him now! Going out with ‘Clara Hughes’, whoever the fuck that is. Did our relationship mean nothing to him?! Did he just- oh my god.” You stop yourself mid-sentence. You huff and turn to your friend, who stares at you with confused eyes.

“Do you think he was cheating on me even before we broke up?” 

Your friend opens their mouth to reply several times before words actually come out. “You can’t assume that.”

“He was so distant before he came back home to London and when he did, he picked fights over the littlest things and... oh my god. It makes sense. Now that I think about it, it’s like he didn’t even fight for our relationship when we broke up.”

You sigh and stare out the window quietly. Part of you doesn’t believe in the theory but the other half doesn’t know what to think anymore.

A knock interrupts the silence of your living room and you look to your best friend for answers.

“Did you order anything?”

“No...” You stand up and grab a knife from the kitchen just in case. Whilst looking through the peephole, you almost roll your eyes.

“Who is it?”

“It’s... Harry.” You utter. You haven’t said his name in days.

“I’ll be in your room, let me know if you need anything, okay?” You nod at your best friend before setting the knife down and opening the door.

“I hope you have a good reason for coming here at a quarter past midnight.” You seethe. Harry looks at you with sad, puffy eyes and for a moment you feel bad for your tone of voice. 

His voice is raspy when he replies. “I-I want us to talk. If that’s okay.” 

You bite your lip, considering the situation in front of you. 

“Please.” Harry pleads and so you open the door further. He steps in, admiring the flat he once shared with you. Nothing’s really changed, but then again, he wasn’t there too much for him to put his stamp on things.

He sits down on the couch and watches you intently as you take a seat a few cushions away from him. 

“Those pictures today-” 

“Were you cheating on me while we were together?” You snap. 

“What? No, no! Of course not! What do you think of me?” Harry frantically responds.

“You tell me, Harry.”

“I was going to say that those pictures which I’m sure you saw today, they’re fake. Management has set me up with some fake girlfriend for some shit reason but they mean nothing to me, she means nothing to me.”

“Well that’s rude.”

“It’s the truth.” He says staunchy. He scoots just a bit closer, fearful that you’ll move away.

“I meant, your management. That’s rude of them to force you to go out there and date someone else just like that. It’s just going to make your “public image” look worse.” 

Harry sighs in agreement. He pushes hair back from his face before he looks to you. In an ideal world, he’d hold you closer to him and criticize the world of PR. But for today, opposite ends of the couch will have to do.

“I’m sorry.” 

“For?”

“For being a terrible boyfriend to you over these last few months. For not making enough of an effort to see you or even just facetime you. I’m sorry my schedule makes it difficult for us to even have a phone call because you sleep when I’ve just woken up sometimes and I’m moody even when we chat.” You chuckle at his last statement, not even noticing that he’s moved even closer to you. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t fight hard enough that night for you, and I’m sorry that there came a point in our relationship where you felt unhappy enough to breakup with me.” Harry continues, shaking his head at the last statement. Tears are now brimming in both your eyes as he grabs your hand. “It should never have gotten to that and I can’t believe I let it.”

You stare into Harry’s green eyes and almost smile. Almost. That’s the one thing you loved about eyes, no matter how old a person got, they are one of the things that never change.

“You are the best person I know and you deserve the best in this world. I’m sorry I was not that for you.”

“I’m sorry too.” You whisper. Harry’s brows cross at your reply. “I’m sorry I haven’t been as understanding. I think I demanded too much of you but I forget that it’s just you out there doing things now. The boys aren’t with you anymore so the pressure is higher for you to produce and make things for this world.”

This time, you find yourself scooting closer to him. 

“So much has changed in both our lives and I think we’ve forgotten that if we don’t grow together then we just grow apart.”

“I don’t want that for us.” He utters, squeezing your hand. He watches as tears roll down your cheeks.

“I don’t want that either. But I don’t know how we can make this work if you’re out here and I’m here and-”

Harry cups your face and you lean into his warm hands. “We will figure it out. I know we will. I will make sure that there is time at the end of my day to speak to you, to be with you.”

“And I will make sure to bribe my boss into letting me take more time off.” You joke and Harry laughs. You feel a smile creep up onto your face, not having heard that laugh in far too long.

“I love you, and I need you to remember that, darling.”

“I love you too, Haz.” 

Still cupping your cheeks, Harry leans in for a kiss that is long overdue.

Suddenly, you hear your bedroom door open with your best friend peeking their head out. 

“Have you two finished fucking yet?!” 

—

le fin!

I started this imagine back in January and it’s now July. I’m so sorry to the person who requested it all those months ago, but here it is now! I haven’t written creatively in such a long time so I’m sorry it’s a mess. I’m also sorry I haven’t been active as a writer on here lol but I do read a lot of things on here. I’m mostly an Avengers girl now, specifically Thor, Steve Rogers and Wanda Maximoff. I may write about them soon. In any case, I hope you all enjoy x

Love to you all, Iz xx

[iluvmyogblog]

Roommates, Routines and Best Friends

A/N: So to be completely honest with you guys, i have written several versions of this part and am still so conflicted. I hope this comes out great, and i hope u guys love it n fall apart n ALLLL that good stuff. btw doesnt sebby look like a fuckinggggggg dream.........

Summary: (AU) being roommates with the infamous womanizer Bucky Barnes is tough, especially when all he does is bring home different girls every night and complain about you and your choice of men. masterlist.

Words: 2768

Warning(s): language, always!!!

Roommates, Routines and Best Friends : Today A Month Ago

Today marks exactly a month since you met Steve. A month since that stupidly amazing party Bucky dragged you to. You and Steve decided to be cheesy and celebrate today. Bucky protested, saying that it was so annoying when new couples did that. But you and Steve weren’t a couple. Not yet. It’s only been a month! You’re not one to jump into a relationship so quickly, especially after the whole Sam thing. You were still a little scared to put yourself out there. You would always have long talks about that with Bucky. Always. And he’d always know exactly what to say. Always.

You were walking to the kitchen when you see Bucky also walking out of his room. You flash him a quick smile. That smile was enough to make Bucky’s heart jump out of his chest. “Good morning, doll.”

“Good morning, Buck,” you nearly whispered. You were so tired. Your energy was drained from you, your hair was a mess and you had bags under your eyes. You were excited about seeing Steve today but the part of you that wants to climb back into bed hopes that he gets busy all of a sudden. 

“Woah, don’t you look dapper this morning,” Bucky chuckles and pours you a glass of orange juice as he watches you slump into a chair. You don’t say anything, you just put your head down and groan. Bucky sighs softly and walks over to you, sliding the orange juice into your hand. The tip of his fingers brush against the palm of your hand. You feel him start to ruffle your hair, tangling it even more. You groan again, ignoring how good it felt. 

Bucky continues to look at you. He continues to play with your hair. He starts to imagine what it would be like if you two were more than friends. If you two were more than just roommates. If you two shared the same bed. “Hey Buck, can you carry me to my bed. I’m too tired to be awake right now, I don’t even know why I got up,” you mumble. Bucky nods and you feel his arms swoop you up. You wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his chest as he carries you back to your room. You soon feel yourself being put down on fluffy comforters that smell like Bucky. 

“My bed is more comfortable than yours,” you hear Bucky whisper as he tucked you in. He wasn’t wrong. His sheets were always washed and switched out- because of you know, his special lady guests. You nod and snuggle deeper into the sheets, grabbing a pillow and snuggling up to that as well. You open one eye and watch Bucky walk across his room and close the curtains. You smiled softly at that notion. Before you two began to even stand each other, you had always complained about how dark his room was. ‘And for crying out loud, open your curtains. Don’t be so depressing all the damn time, Bucky.’ you would say. 

“Hey, (y/n). Can I ask you something,” Bucky questioned. Sitting up, you watch the dark haired man look at you shyly. You knit your eyebrows in concern, partly confused as well. He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and slowly sits at the edge of his bed. To the both of you, it felt like the room was closing in. You weren’t sure what it could be nor were you sure how you would answer the question. 

“Of course, Buck,” you gently say as you rest your hand on his shoulder.

“What did you mean by what you said a while back? About the party? And me going with you... like on a date? What did you mean?”

The redness on your cheeks start to show, your stomach tangling in knots. You should’ve seen this coming. You should’ve known he’d bring it up. You just shouldn’t have said anything. You gulp and look at your hands. “I just- I.. I don’t know Bucky. For some strange reason I just thought for a second that you had asked me out on a date. You know? I mean I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, I’m not confessing any feelings... cause there’s none. I just thought it was a date. You know how weird I get when guys ask me to hang out with them.”

“But it’s us, doll. What’s there to be weird about? You know I wouldn’t be grossed out or anything.. I mean, maybe a little,” he teased, brightening the mood. He sees how tense your shoulders are. He needed to lighten the mood. He just put you on the spot. You weren’t used to that. The remark worked, and you laughed. Relaxing yourself a bit more.

“You’re the worst, James.” He chuckles and playfully nudges you. You nudge him back, which just causes him to just push you a little harder. The two of you were laughing, honestly kind of forgetting how thick the air was a few seconds ago. You let yourself fall back onto his sheets, staring up at the ceiling as you cross your hands on your stomach. Bucky shifts and props himself up on his elbow, looking at you. You tug on your bottom lip, thinking about the party again. You hated that you read signs wrong. You weren’t too dapper about social cues. “So, quick question. Did you take that blonde chick home?”

He stays quiet for a few seconds, staring at you. Watching your smirk disappear once you notice he’s been quiet for far too long. He watches you turn your head to him, eyes meeting his. He shakes his head, “no. Honestly, I just said I got laid. I don’t know why. I lied to you.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him. His brown hair a beautiful mess on top of his head. His stupid eyes burning holes through you with that dumb twinkle he always has in them. His perfectly sculpted arms that complimented every shirt he wore. “Why,” you whisper, completely confused. You truthfully didn’t know that he was even capable of lying to you. He also thought you’d see right through him when he lied. And honestly, you would’ve if it hadn’t been for Steve. Steve, the charming guy you met at the party. Steve who left his friends to drink a glass of champagne with you. 

“Do you know what happened? When I left to get you a drink?” You shake your head and wait for him to continue. He breaks eye contact and looks at his hands. He starts to fiddle with them. He did that when he was nervous. You would always grab his hands when he did that, just in case he needed comfort. Which he always did. He was a baby, in a way. He loved affection. Probably why he couldn’t sleep more than three nights alone. “As soon as I left your side, I got a text from a friend. Well, from Steve.” Pause. Looks up at you, then quickly back to his hands. “Steve says, ‘tell me she said yes’. Steve was the one who persuaded me to ask a certain girl out.”

“Wait, who?” Your heart was racing. You began to think that he actually did ask you out. And you had totally ditched him for Steve.

“Um, I- I never told you about her. But I worked with her. She’s really badass, you know? Plus she’s really really h-”

“I get the picture.”

Bucky nods, “right. Well she said she was busy. So obviously that’s a no. I wasn’t gonna go. But Mr. Stark insisted that I do.”

He pauses and watches you. You were trying to piece the puzzle together while staring at your feet.  “So.. I was a back up plan?” You tried to hide the obvious sting with a slight nudge and a smirk. Bucky saw right through that.

“No, doll. Don’t say that. I had a good time,” he says. You nod, feeling his fingers tug the hemline of your shirt. “I text Steve back. Told him I was at the party with someone better, cooler. And prettier, way prettier.” You laugh and shake your head, ignoring his attempts to win you back. “And Steve wanted to meet up. He was with a friend also. His friend was meeting up with his girlfriend and Steve wanted to drink a beer with me. He didn’t wanna be alone, you know? But I told him I was here with someone. He said alright, went on his own, I went to get you that drink you wanted. Then that girl-”

“The blonde bimbo that was basically undressing you with her eye-”

“She had a boyfriend, (y/n). He was standing right next to her. They wanted to know what drink I ordered. Said it looked fancy,” Bucky interrupts. You felt dumb. You felt embarrassed. Shocked.

You let out a breathless laugh, staring at the ceiling now. “It’s the cherries and olives. Always pick the right garnishes,” you whisper. 

“Then I saw you with Steve..,” he trails off, causing you to look at him. “You looked good. Standing next to him. Like you two were made for each other. Then you laughed, and I swear, I knew right there... I knew that it wasn’t a date.”

“Bucky, what are you trying to say?”

You’re now sitting up, staring straight into his eyes. Heart pounding out of his chest. The truth was that when you walked out of your room wearing nice jeans and a really complimenting blouse, with your hair falling perfectly down your back and your eyelashes coated with the perfect amount of mascara- he knew that he was glad that he got rejected that night. The way the dim lights brightened your smile, and the way a champagne glass looked in your hand. It was driving him crazy. The fact that he walked into a party like that with you by his side made everything that much better. He didn’t expect Steve to be there. He didn’t care. That was until he saw the look in your eyes when they’d meet Steve’s blue ones. “I’m trying to say that... it was the best unintentional date I have ever had. Even if it was just for a few minutes,” he says, adding a faint smile at the end. He knew you were happy. He knew this would make you feel bad, but he had to just clear the air. You suck in a quick dose of air, blinking away those stupid butterflies and smile lightly, nodding. “Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure, Bucky.” 

“If you thought it was a date, you said yes. Why?”

Now it was your turn to get flustered. You felt your palms start to sweat. You shrugged. “I don’t know, Buck. It’s you. For a second, I saw you as the Bucky who brings home girls at two in the morning,” you nervously laugh. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what Bucky wanted to hear. You didn’t want to say the wrong things.

“Oh, okay. Makes sense.” He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. You don’t either. “You wanted to come home with me?” he asks. You can hear his words drenched in that smirk of his.

“Oh my god, Bucky.”

“Kidding. In the end, you come home to me anyways.”

You felt those dumb butterflies. You changed the subject to the first thing that pops into your head. “By the way, who was the girl that rejected you?”

His cheeks turn red and he laughs, looking down. “Really, doll? We’re gonna talk about this?”

“Well of course. I gotta know who turned down your charm!”

He groans and throws himself back onto his bed, covering his face with his hands. He lets out a huff and slides his hands down his face. “ Way to change the subject,” he sighs, “she’s Starks’ Secretary, or maybe she got promoted? Not sure anymore. Her names Natalia- Natasha, actually. That’s what everyone calls her.”

“Natasha?”

He nods. “Yeah, she has this crazy, re-”

“Red hair.”

Bucky nods again and looks at you. “Yeah! You know her?”

You stare blankly ahead of you and smile, nodding. You chuckle softly, shaking your head now. “Yeah,” you croak, “I mean, kind of?”

Bucky whispers your name, breaking you out of whatever trance you were in. He’s sitting right next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder with a look of sympathy. A look of hurt equaled to yours. “She’s the one?” 

You nod again. “She’s always the one, Buck.”

“You never told me her name. (Y/n), there’s nothing going on betwe-”

“Bucky, it’s completely okay if you like her. I truly don’t mind- that’s, if you like her that’s okay.”

He repeats your name, stopping you from rambling on. “Shut up, doll. I’m not interested.. anymore. Like at all.” You smile and look up at him, scanning his face. Of course Bucky would like her. Of course she’d catch his attention. She catches everyone’s attention. “Hey, Sam’s an asshole. Don’t think about him. You’re going out with Steve. Steve’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. I promise. He won’t hurt you, doll. Especially not on my watch.”

“You always know what to say, James. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he gives you that stupid look again. The one where it looks like his chest is hurting, like his heart is crying. Like he regrets something, misses, longs for something. But you don’t know what. “Go get ready. You got that cheesy date with Steve. Remember? Or did laying in my bed make you wanna stay here forever?”

“Bucky, shut up,” you playfully push him as you get off his bed. You had honestly completely forgot about the date with Steve. It felt like a hundred hours that you were there with Bucky, which it was only two. You threw a pillow that was on the floor at him and he catches it, of course. He had quick reflexes. Too quick. Nothing went past him. And you liked that.

“Tell your boyfriend to text me back. He left me on read,” Bucky shouts as you walk out his door, “bestest best friend ever,” he mumbles. You giggle and take a mental note. ‘Tell Steve to text his boyfriend’.

Bucky got up and shut his door. Like he always is before you go out with Steve, Bucky was sad. He was bummed again. If he had just been upfront and asked you out on a real date, or if he had went up to you and Steve instead of darting out of there as soon as possible. He started to think about the party again. He started thinking about what you had told him before you even knew Steve existed.

“Okay. I’ll set it up right now, doll. Any guy you want, you’ll get.”

“You want me to choose?”

“That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“And you’ll get them to come talk to me?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Bucky, I don’t wanna play.”

“Oh, come on. Look at that guy. He has a beard. You like beards.”

“Too long. Plus, I don’t even know him. Besides, you have a beard too.”

“How about my ex boss?”

“Tony? He’s married!”

“Him?”

“No.” This went on for a few minutes. You crossing off guys, making faces every time Bucky would point someone out.

“What ab-”

“No, I’m absolutely a hundred and ten percent serious, Bucky. Out of every one in this expensive ass house party, I’d still choose to go home with you.”

“Like you have a choice,” he chuckles, leaning in to you as he tries to speak over all the other conversations. 

“Choice or not, I’d still go home with you, James.” Your words made him weak. They made him weaker than he’s ever been. His legs felt like jello when he saw the look in your eyes. It wasn’t alcohol, he hadn’t got you a drink yet. It was happiness. True happiness. Him making you get this look. He wanted to kiss you right there. He really did. But like he always does, he got scared. He got scared, so instead of kissing you, he asked if you wanted a drink.

A stupid drink. ‘What the hell was wrong with me’ Bucky thought to himself. He knew that if it wasn’t Steve, he would be fighting for you. He would be wrapping his arms around you right now, making you want to stay in bed with him. But it’s Steve. And Steve always gets what he wants.

•••

again, if i 4got tags, lmk ❗️❗️

this was a tough 1, it gets better I PROMISE. but aside from that, i wanted to know if you guys would be interested in like.... writing a chapter?? like any kind of chapter you guys want. I JUST REALLY WANNA SEE WHAT KIND OF DIRECTION YOU GUYS WANNA TAKE IT IN!!!!

so we kind of got a sense as to what happened with Sammy boy... hmm.. ❗️

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