#hopefully it comes across !! i thought it was cool n fun

[cottonbopp]

Relistened n remembered the awesome song that is She Only Loves Me When I'm There ..... Lyricless ver under cut !!

[miraclewoozi]

DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs

the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome.  or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it. 

pairing ; vernon x gn!reader.  content ; all the tropes. 5 times fic. soulmate au. slight college au if you squint. f2l. fluff, some angst. pining. one (1) hint of suggestiveness if u squint. MINORS STILL DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.  content notes ; mentions of reader having a(n unnamed) partner & thereafter, going through a breakup due to said partner cheating. reader is maybe implied to be shorter than him but hopefully not too obviously or frequently. alcohol is mentioned & is a key theme in scene #3. pov switch for the final part (necessary for logistical reasons.) PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c ; 9.6k note ; welcome to thee most self indulgent fic ever lmao. i hope u enjoy this slight break away from what i usually post here (as if my entire brand isn’t writing losers in love. ANYWAY) -- this was very fun and a little bit special for me! <3

“What was your first kiss like?”

Initially, Vernon swears he just didn’t hear you right. It’s dark up here, where you’re hiding away from a party on the roof of his university accommodation and he’s starting to get tired. There’s some sort of siren wailing away in the distance to his left, and on the street below, a gaggle of freshmen are cackling as they walk past the building. His ear closest to you is currently listening to your favourite song. 

All the signs suggest that he simply got it wrong. 

But he doesn’t know if he believes those signs, especially not seeing as when he looks over at you, you’re staring pointedly up at the stars overhead. He doesn’t doubt that you’re giving yourself an ache in your neck in the process, too.

“Hmm?” He asks, taking out the earphone that connects him to you. The other one is still nestled away in your ear and he reaches to gently pull it away. “What was that?”

You still don’t look at him, but you do repeat yourself. Quietly. “What… was your first kiss like?”

“Oh.” 

He was right. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” you hurry to say, hugging his jacket tighter around yourself to block out the cold air that blows across the rooftop. He shrugged it off and told you to take it the very moment your teeth started chattering — almost an hour ago now. His arms are bare, shoulders and biceps only covered by a t-shirt so thin it’s practically sheer, but he isn’t cold. He’s always run hotter than most. “Sorry.”

He nudges you with his knee, silently telling you that you don’t need to apologise. He doesn’t mind — you just caught him off guard; Vernon hasn’t given this any thought in a long time, and he has to really put his mind to coming up with an answer. It was forever ago — when he was eleven or twelve, maybe, with his first ever girlfriend. They dated for a whole two and a half weeks. He doesn’t know if it really counts: the kiss was a dare, after all. 

“Kinda…” He starts, trying to follow the line of your sight, wondering if he can find the exact stars you’re looking at. “She’d just put this weird lipgloss on. It was real tingly. And like, neither of us knew what we were doing? So it… got everywhere. I think I ended up swallowing some, I don’t know. My mouth felt weird after. Thought I was having an allergic reaction.”

You laugh softly at him. “I think that would put me off for the rest of my life,” you say. 

“It almost did,” he chuckles. You hum at him and lean back on your elbows, leaving Vernon more than a little bit confused. He readjusts his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest as he tilts his head down at you in your new position. 

“…why?” He asks, just as you close your eyes and take a deep inhale of the cool air. 

You just shrug. “I guess I just… wondered.”

He nods, and it’s his turn to fall short of a response, but that’s okay. You’ve known each other for too long for these silences to feel uncomfortable. He grew up with you. In fact, he’s reasonably sure he’s told you this story before. He must have done. 

Then he realises, maybe he hasn’t. Because he doesn’t know the story behind yours, and maybe that’s just a line the two of you never came to crossing. He knows he told his other friends, back then, because he was the last one in his circle to have a first kiss and he felt like it made him more grown-up, or something. Naturally, he left out the more embarrassing details. But maybe you just told your other friends who weren’t him, and went on with your life. Maybe yours was just… normal. 

Either way, he’s interested now. And there’s no time to ask like the present. 

“What was yours like?” He asks, fiddling with the strap on his wristwatch. You don’t answer straight away; he doesn’t think anything of it, because neither did he, but when he’s still waiting for you to speak a small eternity later, he prompts you again. “Hey, it can't have been worse than mine.”

You snort. 

“You’ll laugh at me,” you say, shaking your head. Vernon furrows his brows and drops his legs flat, twisting to one side to look at you. 

He doesn’t know where you’d get that idea from, but he’s… almost a bit offended by it?

“No I won’t,” he tells you softly. Maybe at first, he might’ve laughed with you, if your story happened to be as dumb as his own. But not at you. Never at. Not when he’s been the butt of the joke in too many friendship circles, for about as long as he can remember. 

You take a shallow breath, pursing your lips. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not…” you start to say, before you clear your throat and try again, this time heading in a different direction. “I don’t know. It’s dumb, I guess.”

“Don’t make me come down there,” Vernon threatens playfully, poking you in your side. You squirm, giggling despite yourself, despite the serenity of the sanctuary you two have found, despite the fact that you, too, were on the edge of falling asleep before your question came out of nowhere.  

He pokes you again, and again, and then starts to tickle your ribs instead. You squeal, swatting his hands away to no avail and you move to sit up, grabbing him by the forearms to physically make him stop. The grin on Vernon’s face is wide and heart-shaped. A warm feeling spreads through him: it has everything to do with the sweet sounds of your slowly dissolving laughter. 

You sit cross-legged across from each other like this for a moment or two. Your knees are touching. Your hands move down his arms until you’re holding him firmly by the wrists. Your eyes lock together: his crease with the sheer force of his boyish smile, while yours are narrowed, daring him to try and wiggle free and attack you again. 

He doesn’t, but for the first time ever, he’s struck with the urge to do something maybe more scary. 

The urge to just… lean in to you. 

It makes his heart do a backflip, in a way that it hasn’t done since he had his last crush. His head goes empty, and he forgets what he was even asking you before: the only thoughts he can muster are ones regarding what your lips taste like, whether they’re half as soft as they look, if you’d lightly touch his shoulder or his arm or his chest or his cheek—

Do you smile when you kiss?, he wonders. Do you sigh? Do you—

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” you answer, looking away now and letting go of him. He’s gone so loose in the moments since you grabbed hold of him that when you’re not supporting their weight, his arms fall like two cinder blocks onto his knees. 

True to his word, he doesn’t laugh. He’s surprised by your revelation, sure, but in no way humoured; actually, he feels a little saddened by it, for a reason he can’t put his finger to. He ends up not saying anything, just biting the inside of his cheek; he wants to ask why, but knows maybe that’s a bit of a dick move, and if it’s something you’re sensitive about he doesn’t want to risk hurting you.

But he’s watched people fawn over you for years, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever been short of attention from those who have thought you were attractive. So it can’t be that you’ve been lacking in chances? Surely?

“I thought… maybe I should save it,” you go on to explain. Your hands keep busy by playing with a thread at the cuff of his jacket sleeve, wrapping it around one finger until the skin beneath it pinches before you unravel it again. 

“Save it?” He asks. You nod your head.

“For when I thought I’d found them.” You pause, swallowing hard. “Like I said, it’s s—.”

“No it’s not,” Vernon says abruptly, shaking his head. He holds onto you now, one hand slipping around your back until it rests on the shoulder furthest away from him. You scoff. He squeezes you into his side. “Hey. It’s not stupid.”

He doesn’t like how this admission has, somehow, made his desire to kiss you stronger. He hates that he feels even more drawn to you, a magnet finally finding its opposing pole. It freaks him out a little. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly. 

Red button theory, he tells himself to try and get back on the straight and narrow. If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would be happening.

“It’s romantic,” he says finally, swiping his thumb in small motions over the top of your shoulder. You nod, mumbling a ‘thank you’ (for what, he isn’t sure), and shiver. Vernon doesn’t know if that’s because of his proximity to you or because you’re finally starting to feel the cold. Either way, he takes the initiative to stand up and holds a hand out for you to take so he can tug you to your feet too. You get up with a little hop. 

It’s… devastatingly cute.

“Where are we going?” You ask, brushing off your jeans before shoving your hands into the jacket’s pockets. He’s already on the retreat, walking backwards towards the door that took you up here.

“To get food,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That party was dead, anyway.”

It doesn’t cross his mind again until your twenty-first birthday. 

He’s not your soulmate. He couldn’t be. The thought he had on the roof that autumnal night was little more than a passing fantasy; besides, he doesn’t have a thing for you. He doesn’t want to kiss you, or date you, or have you be his soulmate. The reason you work so well together is because you’re just friends; he thinks you’d drive each other crazy if things ever went romantic between you. You bicker with him for sport. He drowns away hours at a time with his headphones clamped over his ears and forgets to answer your texts. It would be a nightmare. 

Not that he’s ever thought about all that. Not actively, or even passively. Not when he should be listening to college lectures instead, for example. Not awake, nor in his dreams. He hasn’t. Not once. 

He swears. 

“You can save it ‘til tomorrow, if you want.”

Vernon bounces his leg nervously, fidgeting with the edge of your comforter as you sit on the floor in front of him, styling your hair for your party. He arrived half an hour ago while you were still waltzing around in your bathrobe, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in both of his hands. It’s several degrees too warm in your bedroom. He feels a bead of sweat roll down his back as you grumble what seems to be a threat at a strand that won’t cooperate. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. (If you do, he’s grateful that you don’t say anything.)

“But it’s my birthday today,” you pouted, taking the box from him. “Let me finish getting ready, then I’ll open it. Come on.”

His wrist still aches with the pressure you held onto him with as you dragged him up the stairs. Your parents are away for the weekend and the house is all yours, so there’s a speaker blasting your favourite playlist full volume on your nightstand and there’s nobody to tell you to turn it down. He flits his attention between his phone and watching you, but he can’t fully concentrate on either; he’s too nervous that maybe you won’t like his gift, and he’s never been the type to splash out on birthday presents before but this… well, it burned a hole in his wallet, that’s for sure. 

“Okay. Wait here,” you tell him as you push up off the floor, limping on the leg that had started to fall asleep thanks to the way you were sitting. 

“All right,” he says back. As if he’d go anywhere, anyway. 

You grab a hanger from inside your closet and scurry off down the hall to the bathroom. For the first time, Vernon feels like he can actually breathe. He drops his phone onto the comforter between his crossed legs and cradles his head in his hands, telling himself that he needs to get it together. You’ve never not liked anything he’s given you, and you’ve known him now for more birthdays than you haven’t. 

Your friends said you’d love it. So did your mother, with a sparkle in her eye as she held it delicately in her fingers. He has nothing to worry about. It’s only you.

And yet—

“You’ll be honest if it looks bad?” You call from the other side of the door, interrupting how his lips move wordlessly in an endless mantra of self-reassurances. 

Vernon snaps his head up and he clears his throat, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Aren’t I always?” He answers.

You click your tongue, evidently disagreeing, but you pull the handle and take a step into the room anyway. When you see him, he looks exactly as he did when you left, no trace of his anxieties anywhere to be seen on his face or otherwise. 

When he sees you, he feels like the world could end any moment and he’d be okay with that. 

His mouth runs dry and his eyes seem to be stuck open, unblinking, fixated on you in your all black outfit as you stand still as a statue with your hands behind your back. You cough quietly, waiting for some kind of a response other than a dumb stare, but it doesn’t come. 

Eight seconds later… still nothing. 

“Do you hate it?” you fret, because Vernon is a very good hype-man and you’ve never known him struggle to find something positive to say. “All right, uh— okay—”

“No!” He rushes, almost shouting in his urgency to assure you that that’s not the case at all. He scrambles up to his feet, taking a breath, and pushes a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, and he kind of hates how his fingers catch on a tangle even though he brushed it meticulously before he left his apartment. You keep telling him it looks good, though, so he hasn’t been to get it cut. “God, no. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”

It doesn’t sound like much to the untrained ear, but the warmth of his compliments comes less in the words he says and more in the sincerity he says them with. Your face softens, and Vernon can see the way the thoughts of changing into something else fizzle out behind your eyes. He takes a backwards step to try and tempt you further into your own bedroom, and you move in tandem with him, closing that space and coming better into the light. 

“Wow,” he says, swallowing hard and looking you up and down. “I-… wow.”

It’s your turn to clam up, now. You look down at the floor, kicking at the carpet with your toes. “Shut up,” you say. “I’m not...”

“Yes, you are,” he protests, leaving no room for argument as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but… yeah, it’s gonna work.”

You walk past him with a scoff, barging against his shoulder on your way; he dramatically staggers to the side, rubbing at the impact site, laughing. When he faces you again, you’ve picked the gift up from the end of your bed and are moving to sit on the mattress yourself. Your eyes flicker between Vernon and the empty space in front of you. He takes the hint, settling back down with one foot tucked beneath him, the other still planted on your rug. 

His heart shoots back up into his throat and he stares down at the box, licking over his lips and frowning at how dry they feel. He glances away, lifting a hand to his mouth, running his fingertips over his lips. What would they feel like pressed against yours? He thinks, and then he cringes again. 

You misread his reaction and hesitate with your finger pressed underneath a strip of tape, tilting your head at him. “What’s going to jump out at me when I open this?” 

“Nothing,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. “What do you take me for?”

“The kind of guy who puts glitter in birthday cards because he thinks it’s funny,” you retort, earning a click of his tongue. 

“That was one time!”

“One time too many.”

“I swear,” he laughs, tight shoulders easing, both hands falling to his lap. “No sparkles, no loud noises, nothing jumpy. Cross my heart.“

You eye him a little suspiciously but eventually tug your finger beneath the wrapping and make the first rip in the paper, allowing you to tear into the gift after keeping Vernon on edge for almost an hour and a half. You peel it away and it falls to the bedsheets, in your hands now a small, square box not too dissimilar a shade to your comforter. You look from it, to him, and he thinks you notice how his cheeks are a little darker than they were before. 

He nods at you once and you slowly pull it open. On a plush, velvety bedding sits an elegant, dainty bracelet. A small gemstone is set in the metal of the bar in the middle of the chain. You skim a thumb over it, your breath held.

“Vernon,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the bracelet to look at him. Now, even the tips of his ears have grown flushed, but you’re kind enough not to comment on it to avoid spoiling the moment you’re in. “This is…”

“The lady in the store said it was your birthstone,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “I mean… I’m really just taking her word for it, ‘cause they all look the same to me, but—”

He’s interrupted as all of your weight topples against him, arms thrown around his neck in a hug. He hesitates a moment before he wraps his own around your waist, drops his head to your shoulder and he smiles wider than he thinks he ever has. “Happy Birthday,” he says, dragging his thumb up and down over your hip. 

“Silly,” you scold him playfully, still pressing wholly against him and showing no signs of moving. Your voice sounds thick, a little like you’re tearing up, so Vernon squeezes you tighter. 

“I know you are,” he chuckles. “But what am I?”

You swallow hard, finally now pulling away from the hug but sitting entirely too close for comfort, one knee pressing into the outside of his thigh. 

Your surprise attack has left him dishevelled. With a quiet apology, your fingers innocently try to smooth everything back into place, but Vernon doesn’t hear you say you’re sorry. His pulse, thundering in his ears, drowns it out while also skipping a beat with each little touch. You’re not looking into his eyes as you shyly put him back to rights, too busy working to tame his — at the best of times — unruly hair. 

He’s looking into yours though, and he can’t stop. 

Your eyes, which dart all over to find strands out of place, so your hands can move them to where they ought to sit and lay them down flat. Your eyes, that drop down the length of his throat as you realign the neck of his t-shirt over his broad shoulders. 

Your eyes: the ones crinkled at the corners as you pick the bracelet back up from your bed and admire it under your bedroom light. Your eyes, landing on his, finally, in a silent plea for help. 

“The best?” you answer, now, extending your wrist to ask him to put it on you. He takes the chain from your fingers and unclasps it, slipping it beneath your hand and holding it in place. 

“I know you are,” he says again, but it’s quieter now as he concentrates on trying to reconnect the two pieces. “But what am I?”

When he successfully fastens your gift onto your arm, he looks up to see your watery eyes still staring down at it. He decides this is the time to reveal part two of the surprise. Pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, he reveals his own wrist to you, and you now see there’s a matching chain hanging off it. A little stone set in the metal. His stone, presumably. You choke out a laugh around your tears, shaking your head. 

“You got us friendship bracelets,” you giggle, holding your hand next to his and admiring them together. Your skin touches and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt around you since…

He nods, breathing a chuckle too. “Yeah,” he says. His heart is pounding. “I guess I did. Is… that okay?”

“I love them,” you insist, leaning forward to affectionately press your lips to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Your doorbell sounds downstairs and Vernon’s words die in his throat. Maybe that’s for the best, though; he’s got so much nervous energy rising up inside him and he’s scared it might accidentally force up something he’ll regret saying. You spring off the bed again, fussing in the mirror, and he watches you rush out the bedroom warbling about how you’re not ready for anyone to be here yet. It’s too early. What’s going on? Who is it?

He shifts his legs so both his feet are planted on the floor, letting out a breath he doesn’t remember sucking in. 

I love them. Thank you, you said. 

It’s perfect. 

He groans when he stands up, too, tugging his sleeve back down as he starts to follow after you.

“I know you are,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing your relieved laughter at it just being the FedEx man on your doorstep. It makes him feel warm. Everywhere. “But what am I?”

Five hours later, Vernon is seeing double. 

He has Seungkwan’s hands massaging the tops of his shoulders and there are two Juns sitting across from him at your dining table. He remembers feeling fine around 9pm, distinctly: like nothing he drank was having any kind of effect on him. Like he could walk home on his hands — like he was invincible. Now, after spending exactly five minutes out in the fresh air, he’s blinking four times for every breath he takes and his friends’ voices keep phasing in and out of focus.

“But what if they’re not?” Vernon stresses for the eighth time, fingers clumsily peeling at the label on his bottle.

“And what if they are?” Jun tries. Again. Also, for the eighth time, because apparently when Vernon gets tipsy, his skull gets really really thick and nothing in the world can penetrate it. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Vernon shakes his head, sitting back so heavily that his chair tips and he sends Seungkwan stumbling into the wall behind them. His friend gives up trying to rub the stupid out of him and settles into the chair at Vernon’s side instead. 

“I don’t know-…”

“If you’re about to say you don’t know what you’ll do if it isn’t them, I’m putting you in an Uber and sending you home.” Seungkwan claps his hand down onto Vernon’s knee for good measure. “It’s not even been a day.”

Vernon groans, threading his fingers into his hair and tipping his head back. “It hasn’t, though,” he whines. “What if it’s been like this since… and I just kept ignoring…”

Jun and Seungkwan exchange a look. An exhausted one. They both know Vernon turns into a complete baby when he’s had a drink and can just about manage a trip to the bathroom without somebody holding his hand, but neither of them have seen him like this before. Neither of them want to see him like this ever again.

Hell, neither of them want to be dealing with him like this right now.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Jun’s (remarkably) calm voice repeats as he pushes up from his seat and glances towards the doorway. His ears lock onto a voice just beyond it, and in an instant, the older man recognises his chance at an exit. He casts an apologetic glance at Seungkwan, who has resorted to rubbing Vernon’s earlobes to try and get him to stop stressing, and he dips out before either of them can argue. 

On his way, though, he throws in a sly little remark. One that raises Vernon’s– and Seungkwan’s– blood pressure to a level that would get them prescribed a week of strict bed rest.

“Besides – everyone can see the two of you were practically made for each other.”

Vernon whips around to face Seungkwan with shock written into every line of his face. It paints perfect full-signal WiFi creases on his forehead; it makes his jaw hang loose. 

“I– what?” Vernon splutters, shooting a hand to the back of his head. Seungkwan hasn’t taken his eyes off the doorway since Jun slipped through it. Vernon doesn’t notice the fact that his older friend’s full genetic line is currently being cursed out. “What does he mean?”

“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Seungkwan tries, now acutely aware of the fact that Jun has just given Vernon a nudge he should never have. There’s a fine line between bolstering a friend and straight-up causing chaos. This could get messy. Seungkwan doesn’t like messy.

But… It's too late. 

Before Seungkwan can wrangle him back into his seat, Vernon has broken away from the table and is on the hunt for you. Seungkwan follows behind, doing his best to summon Vernon back, but he can’t. He’s on a mission now. And maybe that mission involves giving in to the thing that eats away at his brain when he should be waist-deep in music theory assignments. Maybe that mission is to finally, after two years, know what it feels like to kiss you. He’s going to find you, so help him God. He has to. 

And yes. He does. He finds you, eventually. As soon as he reaches the top of the staircase, there you are. 

Being pressed into the wood of your bedroom door, wrapped up in the arms of some pretentious looking art student in an oversized button-down and baggy, ripped jeans. Your mouth is covered by theirs, your fingers are threaded through those glossy fucking locks, both of you are laughing breathlessly as you drop one hand and it fumbles blindly to reach for the doorknob. 

Vernon spins away, turning his back as he hears the door click. At this exact moment, Seungkwan comes stumbling up the stairs too and plants his forehead into Vernon’s sternum. 

But his good friend’s skull is not the only thing Vernon is struck with, not the only thing knocking the wind out of him. 

Simultaneously, he’s swept up with the sobering realisations that either this guy is your soulmate, or you’re not the same person you were when you were nineteen. 

It’s eleven o’clock and two years later when he hears your secret knock on his apartment door. 

Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. He only took his noise cancelling headphones off a few minutes ago before he washed up and settled into bed; his head has hardly even had time to make a dent in the pillows. But whichever force is at play, the thing that matters is that he hears you and he knows it’s you, straight away. He doesn’t remember how it started, exactly. He thinks it might have been while he was in his exam-season hermit stage in his first year of university and refused to come to the door unless it was something important. 

You’ve been knocking the same way for years now though, and he slides out of bed with creased brows at how desperate your fist sounds as it pounds against the wood. He pulls on an old t-shirt and perhaps the loosest fitting pair of shorts anyone’s ever owned, at least making himself decent before he answers. He’s still tying the drawstring when he gets to the door.

When he looks through the peep-hole to make sure he’s right, you’re drying your eyes on the back of your sweatshirt sleeve. You’re shivering quite violently, and you’ve got a bag on your shoulder that’s weighing you down on one side. Vernon’s heart sinks. He unbolts the door, pulling it open just as you lift your hand to knock again; your knuckles punch the air between you as your eyes land on him, and your bottom lip wobbles in despair. 

You fall into his chest with a sob. Tears start to soak their way through his shirt until it clings to the skin underneath. 

“Hey,” he soothes you, locking his arms so tight around you that there’s a strong chance they’re the only thing holding you upright. 

“I didn’t— know where else to go—” you choke out, your arm trapped between your chest and his as he rests his head on top of yours and pats your back softly. “I’m s-”

“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, tilting his chin down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here. You can always come to me.”

He holds you until your shakes start to subside, trying to talk you through whatever this is with soft reassurances and gentle shushing sounds. When you pull back from him, Vernon guides you into his apartment, flicking on the lamp in his living room so he can see to settle you down on his couch. He throws a blanket over your legs before he sits down himself, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it between both of his own, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles. You’re still crying, but when you shuffle against the seat to be a little more comfortable and finally turn to face him, he finds his voice long enough to ask you what happened. 

“He kissed— kissed someone else,” you tell him, sniffling and shaking your head. 

His blood reaches boiling point in what must be record time and he knows he accidentally starts to grip your hand tighter, but he can’t stop. 

“He what?”

Vernon knows this guy wasn’t your soulmate. You told him, a few days after your birthday. You said everything was still black and white when you pulled back from the first of — what you spared no detail in explaining was — many, many, many kisses with him that evening. But you didn’t care. Not then, and not for the whole time you’ve been together. 

He asked you about it once. About four months in (when he figured things were starting to get serious), late at night, if it bothered you. Whether you were going to keep seeing him. If you still thought about finding your soulmate. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what your replying message said. 

I mean, sure, I’m curious. But maybe I don’t need to see in colour. I think being in love is enough :)

So… you were in love. 

With someone who wasn’t him. 

He didn’t speak to anyone — not even you — for two whole days after that. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a peak-form George Foreman. He felt like he’d never be able to get rid of the pit that had developed in the depths of his gut. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat, he couldn’t focus: it was the worst he’d ever felt.  And, well… Vernon knew it was immature. He knew he was acting like a child. If he could’ve shaken it off, the way he’s always done with so many of the things in his life that have bothered him, he’d have loved to. But he couldn’t.

Besides. Only about four people noticed his silence, anyway. You weren’t one of them; your boyfriend was keeping you plenty busy.

“He went to a club and got completely wasted and he— he—” you say, squeezing his hand even tighter than he’s holding yours. “But-… he says he-…” Hiccup. “Everything. Straight away — his…”

You don’t need to say it out loud; if anything, he’s a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t figure this out sooner. “His soulmate,” Vernon ruefully finishes for you. He groans the words out, feeling rotten to his core. “I’m so sorry…”

Your shoulders start to shake and he wastes no time in pulling you sideways against him, both his arms locked around you again, just like before. 

“It’s so stupid,” you cry, laughing emptily. His stomach turns; he hates this. Your anguish is an assault on his eardrums, especially when he’s got you so close, but he tries so hard not to flinch, not to move away. You need him, no matter how agonised it makes him feel. “I knew he wasn’t mine, but I thought-…”

Your voice fades away to nothing. You shake your head.

“You thought he was happy the same way you were,” he finishes again. You just nod, sobbing harder. “That's not—… stop saying the way you feel is stupid.”

Vernon doesn’t understand how that loser could ever not have been happy with you. How could he dream about going out in search of something more? Hell, Vernon doesn’t think there’s a soul alive better than you — how could anyone stand to just throw you away?

He wonders briefly if you can hear his heartbeat, thundering in his chest with the rage he feels all the way into his bones. You’ve always told him that you admire how chilled out, how collected he is, but Vernon has never felt less calm in his entire life. It’s only as he acknowledges that he has no right to feel like this, that he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his fever down. You mimic him, trying to do the same, and by the time his pulse starts to settle, you’re back to just sniffling against his shoulder. 

“Stay the night here,” he tells you. It isn’t a suggestion, or really even a request. It’s an order. There’s no room for negotiation. “We’ll go get your things in the morning. I’ll be right there with you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Vernon gets there before you do. Before you can protest the offers he’s made. Before you can ask him if he’s sure. He knows you, a little too well: he knows these are the words that are going to come out of your mouth next. “I’m with you, okay? Always.”

You sit back from him with a quiet chuckle, wiping your eyes again on your damp sleeve. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” you murmur. “You’re the best— the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He just rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, standing up from the couch. (I know you are, he thinks. This isn’t the time for jokes, though.) He wishes you knew what you mean to him; how, in his eyes, you deserve the world, presented to you on a shining silver platter. Wishes you knew that he’d give it to you if thought he could carry it. 

“Go wash up,” he says, ignoring the ache in his chest at the way your watery lashes flutter when you look up at him. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”

He locates a spare toothbrush from a travelling kit he’s never used and sets a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the heated towel rail, leaving you alone in the bathroom to go about your business. You emerge some fifteen minutes later to find Vernon perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. He can’t help but swallow at the way his clothes fit you. How the steam from your shower clings to your skin, casts a heavenly haze around you. He hopes it isn’t obvious. This is about more than his dumb little crush. 

“Were you asleep?” You ask him, nodding towards his comforter, still pushed back on one side. He turns to glance over his shoulder, following the line of your sight, before he looks back at you and shakes his head. 

“Not even close,” he says. “I’d just got into bed when you got here.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Vernon doesn't think you look totally convinced, but he can’t force you to believe him, even if it is the truth. 

It’s unspoken but accepted that you'll sleep in the bed with him; he’s never let you stay on his couch when you spend the night, and you never agree to displacing him even though he always tries to insist he doesn’t mind. You’ve been friends for enough time now that it’ll never be weird to crawl beneath the sheets with him, anyway. At first, he didn’t really like sharing (he’s a bit… particular with how he sleeps, after all), but he got used to your weight on the mattress beside him quite quickly and makes a point to say he always sleeps better with you. 

He hasn’t curled up next to you for the night in over two years. It’s awful, that that’s what he thinks about now as he turns off the lights and you settle down, shuffling under the comforter until he slides in next to you in the dark and you can lay your head on his chest. He knows it’s selfish. He thinks it probably makes him a bad person, too. 

“Do you think—” you start to say, cut off by a long, vocal yawn. Your breath feels so warm through his t-shirt. “If you fall out of love with them… do the colours go away?”

With his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he can’t even see, Vernon feels his heart shatter beneath the soft cushion of your cheek. He’s suddenly grateful he’s still fully clothed, as if the cotton barrier is the only thing stopping you from getting scratched by the splinters beneath his skin. He wonders if you hear it. It would be an easier explanation for why he doesn’t say anything than whatever his mouth could come up with, that’s for sure. 

“I don’t know,” he says after a few seconds too long. The arm wrapped around your shoulders slips down to your waist and he squeezes you. Briefly, he wonders if it can force your broken pieces back together. 

Vernon knows he would never do this to you. He’d never hurt you this way. Out of everyone he’s ever met, he thinks you’re the sweetest, the kindest, the most thoughtful of them all. The last person he’d ever wish a heartbreak upon. He even used to joke that he’d go to war with anyone who dared to try. 

But now he’s seeing it happen? He feels as if he really could. 

“I just hope you never have to find out,” he follows up, blinking back the thoughts that start to bubble away as your breaths slow down. 

He wrapped a band-aid around your finger when you got a papercut once and you asked him, then, if he would kiss it better. 

When you bumped your head in the playground, the same. 

He’d kiss it all better now too, if he could. He’d show you how you deserve to be loved. 

And he doesn’t just think it, anymore; Vernon knows that this makes him a terrible person. 

“I hope you don’t, either,” you mumble back. “... and I hope we find them soon.”

He’s so proud of you.

Okay, it never took much. He’s been proud of you for every good grade you’ve ever achieved, every doctor's appointment you booked for yourself, every trip to the dentist you stressed over. He’s been proud of you for finishing projects you were struggling with. Proud of you for learning new recipes. For every milestone, personal or professional, it’s the first thing he makes sure to say. 

[ hey, look at u go!!! proud of u :) ]

Now? He’s seen you crawl from rock bottom to the top of the world. It hasn’t been easy. There have been hurdles and barriers and sometimes, sixty foot high walls you’ve had to climb up and over, but you’ve done it. You’re thriving. Every time he looks at you, these days, if you’re not wearing a smile there are at least traces of one in your eyes, on your face, in your voice. Happiness suits you, and he’s so, so proud of you for getting here. 

He knows you’re doing better, because between Christmas and New Year, you asked him if he wanted to come to a party with you. At first, he wasn’t sure; the holidays left his wallet feeling a little light and he’s been on a really good streak of not drinking anything lately, but when you promised that you’d stay sober too, he kind of couldn’t say no. 

[ i just wanna see in the new year with my favourite person ever <3 ]

[ ha. flattery will get u everywhere ]

So here he finds himself, out in the backyard of somebody he’s never met, a can of Coke in one hand and your gloved fingers holding tightly onto the other. You dragged him outside at five minutes to midnight and — though he doesn’t know why — you decided you didn’t want to let go. Vernon certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make you. Your warmth down his left side is settling the slight unease he’s felt all evening while also making him feel tipsier than he’s ever been under the influence of any amount of soju; he thinks maybe this should scare him, but he’s just… so glad he came.

With sixty seconds until the clock strikes twelve, somebody stands up on top of the picnic table in the yard and starts to try and coordinate a countdown. With forty-five, Vernon squeezes your hand, butterflies where his stomach ought to be. With thirty, he takes a long drain of his drink, finishing it as if it’ll give him some courage, maybe, or… he doesn’t know. Zero sugar, zero caffeine — there’s no logic behind his process, just a lot of bubbles and artificially sweetened syrup. All the same, he crushes the can against his thigh and slips it into his pocket to throw away later. That alone relieves a bit of his adrenaline. 

Not enough, but some. 

With ten seconds remaining, the first shout drowns out the white noise in his ears, the chaos of his thoughts. 10. He joins them. So do you. 9. 8. Your voice is the loudest, the most excited sounding. You want this year to be over. You want the rest of your life to begin. 

7. 6. 5.

The crackers are set. Flames dance at the end of the garden on fire lighters, ready to send rockets shooting into the sky. 

Some people here are going to see them as they truly are. Brilliant and vibrant and colourful against the black canvas of the midnight sky. Vernon won’t. Neither will you. But what was it you said to him once?

4. 3.

Maybe I don’t need to see in colour. 

2.

For the first time, he thinks he agrees. The feeling of loving you, even if he never knows green from red, blue from orange? He doesn’t care. He has you. He loves you. That’s enough. 

1.

Happy New Year. 

As if dawn has broken early, the world becomes impossibly bright, pyrotechnics bursting not only over your own heads but everywhere, as far as his eyes can see. After the first few, he permits himself a glance over at your face: there are tears running down it, and his heart stutters, but then he hears you laugh. Brightly, wetly, more resonant than any of the booms and crackles and cheers he can feel all the way down to his toes. 

For whatever reason, Vernon starts laughing with you. 

You pull him closer into a bone-crushing hug and blink your damp lashes against the side of his neck. “Thank you for being here with me,” you say to him, practically shouting to be heard. “I love you so much.”

“I’m always gonna be with you,” he says as you pull back a little. Your arms are still around him. The chain of the bracelet he bought you all those years ago is bitterly cold against the back of his neck. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, all he knows is that they’re resting on the curve of your spine. He thinks he can see something in the way you look at him, so softly and tenderly and yet, in the twitch of your brow… 

Like you’re searching for something that might not be there. 

He knows his gaze moves in a perfect triangle — from your left eye, to your slightly parted, wind-chapped lips, to your right. He knows he stops breathing. He swears you do, too. Something builds — a spark catches, an energy festers, egged on by the curious murmurs of the people around you. 

You could do it, his brain tells him. 

So what if he’s a few minutes late for it to be traditional? Does it really matter? 

But he’s reminded, again, this time with a whizz and a boom and a crackle, that you aren’t his to have this way. His storybook moment fizzles out, the final firework bursting into sparkles overhead. He sees every one of your perfect features brighten in wonder as you tilt your head back to look up at it. Sees it beautifully reflected in your glassy eyes. He has about enough time to commit the image to memory before you clear your throat and finally step away from him, losing all touch for the first time since you came outside. 

One of your friends comes and pulls you into an embrace, before passing you along to someone else, and then someone else again. He loses you in the crowd that rushes to get back in the warm, but he makes no effort to move with them. He just stays out in the dark for a while with his own thoughts for company, shoving his frigid hands into the pockets of his jeans.

He’s happy, though. It’s like you said. 

Being in love is enough.

“There’s just one more thing,” you say as the waitress returns with your bank card and a receipt. Vernon slides you a look as he stands, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair he’s been sitting in. 

He shakes his head at you. “Whatever it is, it better not be edible,” he laughs. “I think this is the most full I’ve ever been.”

In other words, you’ve done enough already. Stop spending money on me. Please. Thankfully, your final surprise is in-keeping with his unspoken rule. 

His birthday rolled around way too quickly. The start of the year has been so chaotically busy; you swear, you’ve hardly seen him since he dropped you off home after the party. You moved out of your parents’ house for the second time a few weeks ago and settling in, unpacking boxes, sorting through clothes and belongings and trinkets has taken you much longer than you care to admit. You’ve been busy at work, too. So has he. Your social calendars have barely lined up at all. 

But you were determined to make plenty of time for him on his birthday. 

To Vernon, this has always just been another day. He’s never cared too much about big celebrations: as long as he can spend some time with people he cares about, he’s happy, and this year he’s managed exactly that. He saw his family this morning, had some friends drop by his apartment later in the day, and now, he’s with you. 

You’ve never been great at the laid-back approach, though. Not with him. How could you be, when he does so much for you, always without even batting an eye? When he deserves to be doted on, and adored, and thoroughly spoiled? It’s the same every year. You make a fuss, he playfully scolds you for it; you and he are creatures of habit. It’ll probably never change. 

This year, you invited him to your new place to open the gifts you’d bought him: the new speaker he kept saying he couldn’t justify buying, a record he looked at in the store a few months ago but never bought, a sweatshirt to replace the one you stole off him on New Years Eve. Some candies he likes. Then, after he finally stopped pouting and sighing that you really didn’t need to go to all this effort, you took him out for dinner, making a reservation for two at his favourite restaurant. 

The pouting continued. 

Only up until your appetisers came out, though. The moment your food was placed down in front of you, his eyes doubled in size and his lips became a little too busy to stay pursed. Your own dinner almost went cold with how fondly you sat and watched him. This year, you even spared Vernon the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing at the side of your table. 

All right, you have an ulterior motive, but… it’s the thought that counts, right? 

He holds the door open for you now as you thank the waitress who served you one last time and without him lowering his arm, you step into place beneath it. Tucked up into Vernon’s side, you’re as happy as you’ve ever been. Nervous, too, but… you have a good feeling. 

“Where to?” He asks as you fall into step together. 

“This way.”

You emerge from the shelter of the canopy outside the restaurant’s front door and immediately feel the cool tickle of a snowflake landing on your cheek. They started to fall while you were eating and Vernon couldn’t stop watching through the window, small specks that grew over the hour into big clumps that tumbled towards the ground. He’s always loved the snow, and there’s no real destination for this gift, anyway. You guide him to the left and watch as peace takes its rightful home on his beautiful features. 

“We’ve walked in a perfect square three times now,” Vernon says after a little while of meandering about in the dark, making comfortable small talk and laughing as the champagne bubbles in your stomachs continue to fizz away. “Where are we supposed to be going?”

You wondered how long it was going to take him to notice, or even if he was going to realise at all. Looking up and down the street you’re on, you stop in your tracks, standing beneath the same flickering street lamp that you’ve passed twice already. Your footprints trail both behind and in front of you, neither quite covered yet by the snowfall. You break into a laugh when you notice that the convenience store on your left has closed since the last time you came down this road. 

“I can get a map open, if…” Vernon starts, reaching into his pocket. You stop him, stepping out from under his arm and wrapping your hand around his wrist instead.

“I might’ve told a little white lie,” you confess, 

He halts with his phone only half pulled out, pushing it into his hip for fear of it falling if either of you let go. “What do you mean?” He asks. 

You know he’s probably thinking back to your earlier conversations, trying to figure out which part exactly is the mistruth you’re now admitting to. But whether he gets there on his own or not, he waits for you to answer. 

“I had it with me this whole time,” you explain, readjusting your hold on his covered forearm. His eyes dart downwards, looking at the site of contact, but he quickly lifts them back up to your face. “I was just… waiting for… ”

“What are you talking about?” Vernon asks. 

“Close your eyes.”

You know.

Unfortunately for your best friend, as hush-hush as he’s managed to be all this time, the same can’t be said for the other person he entrusts all his secrets to. A few weeks ago, when you’d called Seungkwan to coordinate timings for Vernon’s birthday plans, he’d accidentally let something slip. It was your suggestion of taking Vernon to dinner that did the trick. 

“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Seungkwan had gushed. You could hear the breadth of his smile down the phone and felt yourself growing hot at the compliment.

“You really think so?”

“Pfft. You could take him to the Eiffel Tower or to a drive-through KFC, and he’d still have hearts in his eyes – because it’s you.”

Of course, he attempted to do some damage control immediately after. Make out that he meant it in strictly platonic terms. But once the idea planted itself in your head, it sort of… made sense. You mulled it over for a couple of days but when you finally asked Seungkwan, deathly serious, if he really thought you stood a chance with Vernon?

He practically screamed ‘yes’ down the phone. 

“The last time you asked me to do this, you killed me at laser-tag,” Vernon says, narrowing his eyes. He surely doesn’t think you’re hiding a plastic gun underneath the coat he literally just watched you don, but he doesn’t do as you ask and you suck your front teeth at him.

“Luckily for you, I left all my weapons at home,” you counter. “Come on, please. Just… trust me.”

“Said that last time, too,” he snickers. But, to his merit, he finally does it. He takes in a breath and follows your instruction. “I swear to God…”

Selfishly, you take a moment to bask in how handsome he really is. His eyes twitch underneath his lids and snowflakes cling to his lashes, moving with them. It’s in his hair, too. On his shoulders. Melting on his cheeks, leaving small wet spots on his face. One lands perfectly on the tip of his nose. You would immortalise this moment, if you could.

It made sense, when you found out, because thinking back? Nobody has ever loved you how Vernon does. He shows it in so many ways – he sends you the songs that he hears and thinks you’ll like, the pretty photographs that he takes when he’s away for work, some variant of a ‘good morning’ text, almost every day. He massages your shoulders, lets you fall asleep on his lap, follows you around like an obedient puppy when you have errands to run just so you don’t have to do them on your own. 

He tries, and often fails, to cook you breakfast when you stay over. He brings you coffees, or lunch. He looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars. People have teased for years that you could be psychically connected. That you were cosmically united. That it was fate for Vernon to move into the house down the street from you when you were nine. To be the only other child your age on the block. 

Two people, perfect for one another, lives intertwined eternally by fate. Or, in other words…

“Are you…?” He asks, breaking the quiet that has only been filled with your cloud-forming breaths. 

“Give me a second,” you breathe. There’s no doubt in your mind.

You lean forward to kiss him softly, free hand settling against the side of his neck. In the February chill, Vernon freezes, no part of his body reacting to you except for his lips. Though they twitch in a gasp, they press back against yours as if he isn’t even thinking about doing it. As if it’s instinctual. As if he was always supposed to kiss you – as if he’s your…

There it all is, when you finally pull away.

Brown eyes, framed by fluttering lashes that untangle from one another to finally see you, too. Brown, you know, because when you asked your mother to tell you about Vernon’s colours when you were younger, that was the only one she told you, saying everything else might change when he got older. Warm, brown eyes. Glistening with every blink, blink, blink of the bulb above you. Pupils slowly dilating, drowning the colours out of view. You see his lids shoot wide as he realises, as he glances left and right, as he takes this new world in for the first time, too. 

“I knew it,” you say on a stuttered breath, so overwhelmed you could cry. “My soulmate.”

A brilliant smile threatens to split Vernon’s features in two as he cups your cheeks and pulls you back to him, kissing you again, and again, and again. 

“I know you are,” he says against your lips, his bare thumbs pink and cold as they press into your skin. And, before you can kiss him quiet – “but what ‘m I?”

thank u so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3

[strawbeerossi]

The Party Trick

18+ Content. Minors DNI

Pairing: fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After seeing a tutorial on how to pick a lock on handcuffs, reader decides to put it to the test to have a new party trick to show the others at the BAU. After doing it a few times with each hand, she gets bold and cuffs both wrists, leaving her trapped, until Spencer comes over and things get interesting.

Content Warning: Coarse language, panic, fear of embarrassment, restraints, Spencer laughs and teases reader, sub Spencer, Dom reader, mean reader, humiliation fetish, praising, degradation, orgasm denial, oral (m receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 3.2K

Y'all, I'm nervous as fuck to post this lmao. This has been in the drafts for a while. I'm not the best with smut because I haven't written it in a while. This is your warning. Read at your own risk.

Part two

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“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” Y/N spoke aloud to herself, an agitated huff leaving her lips.

An hour ago, she’d been watching some random YouTube videos, just mainly to pass the time. There was all sorts of dumb shit she watched, although when she came across a video or a man showing how to pick the locks of a handcuff with a bobby pin, it captured her interest. It seemed simple enough, cuff one hand to something beside you then use the bobby pin to pick the keyhole and free yourself.

She had way too much fun as she figured out exactly how to do it, starting with handcuffing herself to the handle on the nightstand. It took about five minutes to get herself free, the woman switching wrists eventually and getting herself freed with more practice.

Then she got cocky. All she could picture was using this as a party trick, having someone handcuff her hands behind her back while she used the pin that she could hide in the palm of her hand to escape. Then everyone would be astonished and impressed. So, she was determined to make that dream a reality.

It all happened so fast. She had the pin in the palm of her right hand, securely held as she used her left to cuff right wrist. In an attempt to close it with her hand still clamped around the pin, she did her best to lock the cuffs around her left wrist. However, in the act of finding a way to lock it, the pin slipped from yer grasp just as she had her wrists cuffed behind her back. 

“Fuck!” She cursed, panic setting in from being trapped without anyone to help her. So, in an awkward attempt to lean down to grab the only thing that could free her, she was bending in all sorts of positions to try and secure the hairpin that was laying on the floor, almost taunting her. Well, now she’d be stuck in her apartment until someone figured out she was missing. Then she’d more than likely have a whole team of people to bust down her door and then laugh at her.

This was the opposite that she wanted. Now she’d be the talk of the team for trapping herself in handcuffs while trying some stupid attempt to free herself. She could already hear all the shit Derek would tease her with now.

“The amazing Y/N, going to show us the special trick that not all fbi agents should be trusted with handcuffs!”

“You know, you shouldn’t play with the tools we are given for the field.”

Derek fucking Morgan.

There was a sigh of defeat as Y/N was accepting her fate of being known for the idiot on the team who gets herself trapped.

However, she was pulled out of her thoughts when she could hear a knock against her apartment door. Thank God! Hopefully it was a family member or something. They’d understand that she did dumb things sometimes and would let her live it down more than her coworkers would.

While hurrying and running from her room like a criminal trying to escape capture with the cool metal of the handcuffs stabbing into their flesh, she was stopping at the front door. “Hold on!” She called, turning around first to try and reach the lock so she could unlock the door. However, when it wasn’t working out, she was huffing from irritation and turning around. She ended up having to use her mouth to unlock the top lock, same with the bottom.

“You’ll have to open the door!” She called, taking a few steps back. However, her heart dropped when she seen who was on the other side of the door. The only reason she was alerted of his presence early was from the way he was asking if she was alright. The moment that Spencer Reid came into view, Y/N face was bright red from embarrassment.

“Not a word of this to the team!” Her voice came out in a squeak, making the genius snort out a laugh as he walked around the woman after closing the door behind him. “How did you even manage to trap yourself?” He asked, not giving her time to answer.

“Y/N Houdini.” He snickered as he was stopping and bringing his hands to run over the metal of the cuffs restraining her arms behind her back. “Is this gonna be your debut into escapism magic? Cause I think you have to actually know how to escape to put on a show.” He continued on.

The words had Y/N’s face growing hotter from the teasing, a huff leaving her lips. “Get your laughs out. Come on.” She demanded while turning around soon after. “Piss me off and I’ll cuff you to your desk at the office and swallow the key.” Of course, all talk and no action from a woman who essentially trapped herself.

“Are you kidding?! I wouldn’t let you. Besides, I’ve seen enough of escapism magic to know how to escape.. Without losing the thing that will grant me freedom.” He commented while grabbing ahold of the cuffs while he chuckled. "Show me where the key is." He spoke, his tone level as the humor of the situation was losing it's power over him.

It wasn't fully lost on him though. In fact, he'd never let her live it down. "You know, the others would've probably forgot about this at some point.." He trailed off, looking around the walls decorated with tapestries, pictures, and some other miscellaneous wall decor. "I, however, will not." He smirked.

Stupid fucking eidetic memory.

"Ha ha. You're hilarious."

"I think you take the cake for being hilarious. Everyone is gonna love this story. I'm sure that even Hotch will get a laugh out of it."

"I hate you."

In reality, it was.. Kinda funny. The thought of seeing someone else on the team in the position she was currently in was enough to make her snort out a laugh of her own. "I'm a fucking idiot, huh?"

The words made Spencer wave her off. "Definitely not a genius but.. Maybe a little smarter than Morgan." His tone was teasing as he was grabbing the small box she showed him that contained the key to the cuffs suspending her.

His first mistake was freeing her, mainly because there was a form of blind trust after being the one to free him.

The minute that Spencer had those cuffs off and was handing her the metallic restraints and turned his back to her, she as using the opportunity to catch him off guard, the male's eyes widening the moment he felt the cold metal against his skin.

"Y/N! What the hell??"

Now it was her turn to laugh, her hands coming up to rest against her mouth. "Now who's the genius, Reid?" She taunted, all in good fun.

Spencer's face was red, eyes on the ground while he had to take in a breath. His body was tense, feeling powerless in the time being.

He was also incredibly turned on by the idea of doing whatever he needed to in order to get out of the cuffs.

The silence grew heavy, tension filling the air. "Oh, come on. Don't be mad at me, Spence. It's all in good fun!" She said while heading over to grab his upper arms. "You are so red," She pouted, her hands cupping the hot skin of his face as he was staring down at the woman, looking as submissive as ever.

That did something to her, a blush creeping up on her face as sinful thoughts began to plague her mind. The thought of leaving a whimpering, sticky mess. The way he'd definitely be the type to beg her for more while she was seated pretty on his lap, doing something like read a book while just being full.

The thoughts had her thighs tightly clenching, arousal surely coating her panties enough to make a wet spot.

Unable to help herself, it wasn't long until the tie around his neck was in her hand, pulling the man down to clash their lips together. The action had Spencer squeaking, although his lips were desperately slotting with hers in a messy kiss. He needed it. He needed her.

It wasn't abnormal for Spencer to have such thoughts, his coworker being on his mind since the moment she joined the team. How could he not be fond of her? She was beautiful, intelligent, plus she was probably the only person who would actually sit and listen to his ramblings whenever something came up.

She was perfect in every way really, however, he knew that there was a long list of things preventing a relationship within the team. Last thing he wanted was for himself or Y/N to be transferred to a different branch.

However his thoughts weren’t particularly on that right now, his body falling back against the plush mattress from a push, not even having time to register what was happening before the woman was straddling his waist. Her hands were on either side of his face, her lips pressing back against his in a more rough, needy kiss.

Spencer's wrists were fighting the cuffs, a huff being muffled against Y/N's lips as he realized that he was being denied the right to touch her, to let his hands caress her smooth skin. His heart was beating against his chest, almost as if it were dying to be released.

All of his thoughts were eventually going out the door the minute he felt the feeling of delicate fingers in his hair. However instead of savoring the feeling of her fingers threading through the messy head of curls, his mouth was agape as soon as her hand was roughly pulling Spencer's hair back.

"I'm gonna fuck you stupid, Dr. Reid."

Oh.

The words were enough to make a moan rip from Spencer’s throat, eyes trained up on the woman who was propping herself up on her knees in order to look down at the man. 

“Cat got your tongue, doctor?” Y/N taunted while she was looking down at the man with a soft smirk. She didn’t even have to touch him and he was already putty in her hands. The way his eyes were trained on her, looking like a puppy begging for more. “‘Cause you were very vocal earlier when you had so much to say.” She mused.

“I-I” The woman was bringing her hands to Spencer’s shoulders, her hips rocking against his while awaiting an answer.

“I’m waiting.” 

“I-I.. Fuck. I don’t have anything to s-say.” He stuttered, bucking his hips to try and relieve the pressure from his cock that was already standing at attention. “Who would’ve thought Spencer Reid would be quiet when someone is trying to talk to him? You don’t have any facts? Statistics?” She continued dragging on, nudging Spencer’s body back in order to have him lay down in the middle of the queen sized bed. 

“Give me a statistic about..” She was looking around her bedroom while sliding down Spencer’s legs. “Ooh! A statistic about dominant and submissive dynamics..” She dragged out the word ‘submissive’ as her hands were slowly moving to unbutton his pants. His head was spinning, brain mush.

“A study showed that,” He paused as her fingers were quickly tugging down the zipper before her hands were pulling the slacks down his legs. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” She commented, her eyebrow raising as her movements came to a halt. “T-that 51% of men and 39-” His eyes were fluttering shut the minute he felt her mouth now ghosting over his hard cock in his underwear, her tongue licking over the wet spot of his boxers.

“39% of women are attracted to the idea of having a d-dominant or submissive partner..” He stuttered out, now lifting his hips in hopes of feeling those delicate fingers in the waistband of his boxers. Which, his wish was granted. “That’s really interesting, isn’t it? Good job, baby.” She hummed.

As his cock was revealed to her, she was grinning. His tip was red, beads of pre-cum rolling down his angry, desperate cock. “So pretty!” She praised, laying on her stomach between his legs as her hand was wrapping around the thick base of his cock, thumb swiping over the sensitive tip to smear the mess around.”Who knew Dr. Reid was hiding this? Always the shy and smart ones, huh?” She commented, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock.

Spencer could hear her talking, however he wasn’t responding. His brain was clouded, head falling back against the pillow that rested behind his head. “F-fuck.” He hissed, her tongue now running over the underside of the genius’ cock, cleaning up the mess that she’d already caused. 

Her hands came out to rest firmly against his hips, holding him down from bucking like he so desperately tried to do. “P-please..” He let out a slow breath as his eyes were fluttering shut. His voice was shaking, tone laced with need and more desperation than she could’ve expected.

She smiled while licking over his cock one more time before granting him yet another desperate plea that fell from his lips in the form of a whimper. As her lips closed around his cock, she let her eyes flutter shut. Her tongue was flat, her head beginning to move in a slow motion. She was hollowing her cheeks while bobbing her head, her own moans vibrating around his already desperate cock. As she let her grip tighten on his hips, her eyes were opening to peak up at him through her eyelashes.

His curls were disheveled, his head thrown back as his chest was rapidly rising and falling. The strangled sounds of whimpers and pleads for more falling from his lips. It was a beautiful sight, she knew that much. 

Spencer wasn’t the only one wildly turned on, Y/N’s panties being absolutely drenched at this point. From her position, she could rock her hips against the mattress, just wanting to relieve the pressure in her clit as she could practically feel her heartbeat in the bundle of nerves. She was growing desperate herself, needing to feel his cock inside her, stretching her out with the delicious burn that came with it.

She was pulled from her thoughts when she could feel the twitch of his cock, indicating he was close. That was her cue to pull off with a loud ‘pop’ echoing through the room along with a small whine falling from Spencer's lips. That whine was enough to make her clench around nothing.

“Shush.” She breathed while wiping the spit from her jaw with her thumb, a breathless laugh leaving her lips as she was eventually standing, enough to shimmy her pants and panties down her legs to reveal her glistening cunt. Spencer’s eyes were trailing slowly up her now bare legs, eyes coming to her pussy while his mouth was open, pupils blown out from lust. “Please let me touch you. Wanna- Fuck- Wanna be able to-” He was cut off by her lips, the two sharing a chaste kiss before her teeth were sinking into his lower lip, giving it a playful tug before letting it go. 

“Not this time.” She spoke softly, her lips kissing him once more before she was crawling over him again, her hands running over his clothed chest while moving between them.

As soon as she had his cock in her hands, all sense of reason went out the window. To be fair, neither of them were really thinking of a condom right now. 

After teasing herself by tapping his tip against her clit, she sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Spencer.” She whispered, eventually sinking down his base. Her head was lolling forward, her mouth agape as she was sinking fully, their pelvises now flush against one another’s. “Holy fuck.”

Spencer on the other hand had to think of anything other than cumming inside of her before she even got a chance to even ride him. However, he felt like she’d ultimately end up overstimulating him in that scenario. He didn’t want that now though. No, he’d rather wait until he didn’t have fucking metal preventing him from gripping onto her hips, letting him fuck up into her rather than be forced to watch her have every ounce of control and power. Even though he had to admit, he could get used to this. 

As her velvety walls were clenching around his cock, she was leaning forward slightly as her hips were rolling against his, her head falling forward as she cried out softly. With the length that Spencer had, the right angle would have his tip pushing perfectly against the spongy spot deep inside her that was making her see stars already. 

“F-fuck. You f-feel amazing.” It was Spencer's turn to talk, watching the way her tits were bouncing with every movement, even with a clothed torso, she had the man below salivating at the thought of what lay below that blue cardigan. “You take m-my cock so well.” Even through the grunts and groans, there was still a hint of him being unsure. This wasn’t really something he did often, so here we was, doing something he’d seen once or twice in the few pornos he’d consumed at some point. “Ah! Fuck, Reid. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, you- ugh.” Y/N breathed, continued her motions  while doing her best to quicken her pace, even though her bounces were growing a bit sloppy, her legs getting tired. 

With the grip of his tie and a loud cry of his name, it wasn’t long until she was creaming on his cock, a thin veil of sweat on her face as she was continuing her movements. “Fuck. You gonna cum, Reid? Wanna fill me up? She spoke, the words sending electricity through the man’s body as his cock was twitching once more.

He’d done his best to thrust his hips upward, a low groan leaving his lips as he only needed a few more movements before his vision went white.

Y/N was a whimpering mess, feeling the warm gush of cum that Spencer was coating her inner walls with, the woman’s upper body gently falling forward as her eyes flutter shut. 

They laid there for a while, the woman clutching tightly onto her close friend while trying to catch her breath. “Remind me to carry around those handcuffs more often.” She spoke, a light laugh leaving her lips as she was lifting her hips and moving off of him soon after.

“Maybe don’t get yourself trapped next time..” Spencer chuckled, now looking over at the woman as she was sitting him up, finally using the key to free his wrists from their restraints. “Feel like you owe me now..” He began, the woman laughing as she placed the cuffs on her bedside table. 

“Spencer Reid, are you really asking me for round two right now?” She asked, making the man give a cheeky smile.

“Maybe if you’re the one in the handcuffs this time.”

[yandere-sins]

Guard #500

a/n: It's been a hot minute but I just got this idea for our beloved prince so I just went for it. Hopefully it comes across as fun as I had while writing it ♥

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Pairings: Yandere!Guard!Malleus Draconia x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Malleus eating out reader, Mentioning of a one-night-stand), Abuse of authority, Manipulation, Mentioning of Reader unintentionally cutting on a knife (but no further actions in that regard), Mentioning of knifes/assassination/dead/dying, Slightly unhinged behavior from the Yandere, Slightly gorey description, Long Post

[Prison Project Introduction & How to request | Pinterest Moodboard]

There was something especially cruel about having your failure rubbed into your face.

He didn't even need to say anything, much less move. It was enough for your former target to stand outside your cell, unfortunately, alive and well, taunting you with his silence. Malleus Draconia was probably the most feared name one could hear when you were sent to prison for your crimes. And the more grave your crime was, the more you had to fear him.

"It doesn't suit you," he finally said after staring at you for a long time. 

The two other guards at his side eyed him, confused about his statement. You stopped pretending to read your book, an activity you abandoned the moment he stepped up to your cell. Your mind was too nervous to concentrate on the words, but even so, you had the desire to pretend he wasn't there, hoping he'd leave.

"I don't know much about fashion—I should ask Schoenheit about that," he directed the last few words at his fellow officers rather than you. "But orange doesn't seem to suit you."

"Unfortunately," you sighed, pretending not to have a nervous tension all throughout you just from speaking in his presence. "The dress you saw me in last was just too pretty for prison."

"Unfortunate, indeed."

More silence, and you finally put down the book, looking up at him. You held no personal grudge against the man. He hadn't done anything to you yet. It had been a failed assassination, one you had been paid for and which would give you a nice retirement once you got out. Some guy stuck in this prison with you wanted him dead, hired you, and now the biggest blow was that to your ego. 

Malleus Draconia, however, still sent shivers down your spine.

He had that authoritarian aura around him and the piercing green eyes to match. When your gaze met his across the dancefloor of his private estate, you had felt your heart miss out a beat, your body tensing, trying to decide whether to run or approach. Something about him just drew you in, magically even. And at the same time, you felt like prey even though you were hunting him. It had been him who had walked up to you first, asked for a dance, and you foolishly agreed, letting him sweep you over the floor and into his bedroom like a fool. You could have killed him there, easily, and disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. 

But you couldn't. Not when he looked at you with the adoration of a lover. He was a rare jewel you could never possess, but you seemed to be the treasure of a lifetime in his eyes. 

Never before had you let anyone deter you from your goals. Becoming an assassin hadn't been an easy task, betrayel your every-day business. You took advantage of your victims for as long as you needed, and then you stabbed them in the back, not caring if they knew it was you, cursing you with their dying breaths. But you did it well. Discreet and highly compensated, you thought that was all that mattered at the end of the day.

So why did the memory of that night still heat up your face?

You wanted to appear cool and unbothered by him now that you two were locked in this prison together. But how could you when you still remembered the dragging of his fingertips along your skin? The reverent way he parted your legs to fit himself between them, like the missing piece of a puzzle. 

How could you forget the way his scent drafted all around you? His sheets, his hair, his body rubbing against yours, melting you into a malleable silhouette of passion and desire. If you took off your clothes, it was most likely you'd still find a hickey or lovebite left behind in the moments of pure lust, and when you touched yourself at night, you still imagined his image that of a slightly disheveled god looking down on you with the mercy and the grace of a servant. 

At this point, you thought you saw Malleus' smile widen as if he could read your thoughts. Perhaps you never had the kind of pokerface you thought you did. But one way or another, he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking of, even if just because he was thinking of it, too. 

"I liked you so much better, draped in my green sheets. But that's nothing that can't be arranged even now. I look forward to your next attempt, little assassin."

He left, appearing pleased with himself, to the absolute horror of you and the two other guards, who took a double take at their superior before shooting you dirty glances. That's right, you thought, almost wanting to say out loud, "I fucked your great Malleus Draconia."

But you didn't. Instead, you shrugged, feigning your return to read your book nonchalantly as if nothing that happened was a big deal. You had no beef with them, and trying to hide your embarrassment by sticking your nose in your book was better than letting them see how failure raked its claws over your back.

It felt almost the same as how Malleus had done it. 

"Is this-- this even allowed?"

Your head fell back the moment you uttered your momentary concerns. Driving your fingers through the silky black hair, Malleus' eyes shot upwards, the green ever so piercing. However, instead of the fight and flight from before, now, the only thing it caused inside you was desire. 

Everything about him was so regal, from how he knelt on only one knee beneath you, to how supportive his shoulder was to your leg draped over it. His hands were buried in your hips, enough to keep you steady but also to direct you exactly where he needed you to be. You were a helpless mess, whining when he pulled his tongue torturously slowly out of your cunt, and you bit your lip when he licked over his, your slick making them shine like some kind of fruity gloss. 

"Do you not like it?" he murmured from between your legs, taking another full drag through your folds as if he was licking the spoon after eating a delicious dessert. "I suppose it hardly measures up to the splendor outside this prison, but I hope you can appreciate my gift to you."

"All I did was get beaten up by my employee, and you gift me a whole-ass cell for myself, prettied up to make it look like your room?"

You weren't sure whether to freak out or to laugh. Not having to share the public amenities and a room with three other stinky inmates was undoubtedly a welcome gift. Still, you were hardly deserving of it after trying to kill the man who presented you with it now. 

"I'm still sorry about that; I should have come earlier," his gaze dropped, the light diminishing as he looked at your stomach. The bruise wasn't forming yet, but you knew it would come sooner than later. Even if you trained yourself to be a better assassin, you weren't immune to damage. 

"But I promise to make up for it."

His eyes darted back to meet yours. Gone was the moment of regret; now, all that you saw before they lidded in the process of staying true to his words, was determination. 

You felt his tongue slide back over your clit, the unnatural longness of it wrapping briefly around the nub before he began to suck. There must have been a world record somewhere for getting Malleus Draconia to eat you out, but he, surprisingly, proved to wear the badge of honor when it came to servicing someone. 

It was wrong, but it felt so good.

Biting your finger, you held back the moans as you felt him probe at your entrance again. However, another uncomfortable thought crossed your mind, and as you pulled the finger from between your teeth, Malleus entered you, slipping right along your walls and making you buckle over.

You were glad for him supporting your body, feeling as if you might collapse there and then. "W-What about the others?" you stuttered, unable to shake the feeling even though his actions were very much shaking you. "What will they think if they hear us?"

"Let 'em," Malleus muttered against your pussy, not sounding so dignified with his tongue inside you. "They can 'now who you belon' to."

"Sir!" you gasped, only to let a loud moan escape. It was hard enough to keep up with your worries while your inside clenched around his tongue as if your life depended on it—although he seemed to not mind it in the least. Still, you didn't want to hear dirty talk from someone who was supposed to hate you more than anyone else. And although you felt a real orgasm build, hard and fast, you couldn't shake the embarrassment of being paraded to his goons.

"W-Wait, stop!"

God, you hated yourself. You were so close.

However, Malleus complied. Immediately, all movements ceased, and he looked back up at you, expecting your next command. You were troubled with catching your breath first, but eventually, you shook your head, and you felt the drag of his tongue as it pulled out—not without its tip going left and right, mind you, tasting as much as it could. 

"You've done—ngh!—done enough. I appreciate it, really. But I can't accept this—any of it! I just... I can't. This has to stop."

Malleus stayed silent, gazing at you with a mix of disappointment and, what you could only describe, defiant refusal. "We will not," he finally concluded, and you gave him a confused look as he gently dropped your leg to the side so you could stand on it again before getting up. 

"Is this not exciting for you? Have I been neglecting your needs? Given how... wet you are, I thought I was going in the right direction, but I can improve my technique if you give me pointers."

"W-What? No! It was fine—great! You were doing everything right, it's just..." Your shoulders sacked as you gestured around the room. "I shouldn't be rewarded like this for trying to kill you. Look, I have nothing against you personally. It was just a job. And what we had was great, but it wasn't that good for you to treat me like this. I mean, shouldn't you hate me? Why are you doing this?"

To your complete bafflement, Malleus chuckled while you were getting worked up about the weird circumstances you two were in.

"Hate you? How could I? You led me right to the people who wanted me dead in the first place. I recognize your role as a pawn in the scheme, but is that it? Do you think this to be boring, now that it is just between you and me? Do you miss the excitement of getting a job done?"

Turning sharply on his heels, every one of his moves so deliberate yet fluid, he stepped over to a small box on the table, opening it and taking something out of it. Turning towards you again, he only needed to snap it open to reveal the sharp, silver blade of a knife that you thought must have definitely been illegal to be brought into this prison.

"I thought of this, too, you see. That you might need some more excitement. So, here."

Taking your hand in his, he placed the cold jack knife in your hand, directing its tip towards him. When you looked up at him in shock, you could hardly figure out what he was thinking. You thought yourself good at reading expressions and little signs, but with Malleus' formal training, it was hard to make anything out. With the eyes of madness and the smile of adoration on his face, you couldn't make out a single thought in that head of his. 

"Go on, do it. Stab me, cut me, rip me open if you must. Make a mess of my body. And then let me return to where I belong, at your feet, between your legs. Let me nourish on your juices so it may be the last taste on my lips before I perish. And when I am down there, please use me for your desires so you might remember me fondly as well."

"You're crazy," you muttered, doing the only right thing you could in this situation—pulling the knife back to the point you cut yourself before throwing it to the ground so he would stop almost piercing himself on it. 

"Hm, crazy," he pondered, nodding his head thoughtfully. Even in the face of this situation, with his eyes closed, his face serene as a moonlit night, and his hair ever so slightly disheveled from you meddling with it before, he seemed completely composed. He looked nothing but otherworldly, as if he shouldn't be walking among humans but belonged to the creatures written in books. It was unnerving, just like his words. 

Malleus could have had anyone. Surely people would line up to just awe at him for a split second. They'd pay more than you could ever earn in your measly life just to be regarded by him once. Yet, he choose the assassin who wanted to murder him. Who failed yet helped him. You thought you'd eventually meet your employer now that you were in the same prison and get a reminder not to speak of who hired you. You didn't know Malleus would be watching, being able to figure out who wanted him dead just by observing you. 

And because of this, and perhaps the fling you two had on the night of his assassination attempt, he'd come to want you.

"Perhaps I am "crazy". It doesn't feel bad," he admitted, opening his eyes again to look at you. Nothing of the unreadable curse you saw before remained in his gaze. Only pure, unfiltered adoration now filled it. He looked at you like only someone madly in love could. You never thought someone could ever look this way at you, and if not for the nagging fight or flight instinct returning to the forefront of your mind, it almost pulled at your heartstrings.

But before you could react, he leaned forward, picking you up. You squeaked as he lifted you high in the air, your legs wrapping around his torso instinctively. He walked as if you weighed nothing, carefree and playful, tilting his head to nib at your hand that was gripping his uniform jacket before mending the agitation on your skin with a few pecks of his lips.

You eyed the door, waging your options. If you hammered against it, screaming for help, the two guards Malleus left in front of it might think he's in trouble and come in, even though he ordered them to stay outside. Something felt terribly off with this man you once thought to be this elegant, otherworldly prince who could do no wrong. You thought he joined the side of justice to keep up his image, but the amount of mercy he was showing you and only you bordered on selfishness.

It would be better to leave before it was too late. You shouldn't humor a beast that seemed to be starving, fixating itself on the only prey that had no choice but to obey when it was in a helpless position. 

"Crazy or not, stabbing me or not. Either way, let's return to the matter at hand: you didn't cum yet, did you? However am I going to deal with it if my darling is dissatisfied with me?"

In a swooshing motion, you were thrown forward, falling right on your back, only to be caught in softness and comfort. The mattress of the bed he provided you with molded to your body, the pillows and sheets guaranteeing you a good night's sleep on imaginary clouds. And even better support for other activities.

"And just so you know..." Malleus added, climbing on top of you, straightening his back only to pull off his jacket before he hovered closer than ever to you. As if he had to completely erase any distance keeping him from you, his body sticking against yours like a magnet. He was mesmerizingly pretty and you still couldn't believe what he was doing. All of this was wrong, and some feral instincts from a century ago feared he'd rip out your throat as he buried his face beneath your chin, kissing along your neck. 

"I soundproofed the room but I plan to let everyone hear us."

You gulped, and he chuckled, involuntarily feeling the movement press against his lips. 

"You already belong to me," he stated matter-of-factly as his face popped up in front of yours again. You looked at the door once more, fearing it was too late. You were trapped, caught like a princess by the dragon, but there was no knight in shining armor to save you. 

"And I'll prove it to everyone and you if I must."

[lovelynim]

Important data

Wind Break - Sakura x Suo (feat. Nirei)

A/N: Two out of three comms for @wertzunge ~ Again, thank you so much for the support!! It's been a while since I had such a fun dynamic to write (hopefully no one was too ooc, eheh).

Summary: Spotting some blank spaces in Nirei's notebook, Suo decides to give him a little hand and help him find some new data about Sakura

Word count: 2037 words

Sakura sighed, closing his eyes while trying to keep his cool and not say anything that would come out as rude. He was really, really trying this time. It was supposed to be a school trip, after all: no stress, no annoyances, no fights, just a good time and lots of fun. Then… Why the hell was Nirei putting him through such a test?

“So, sweet or sour, Sakura-san?” Nirei continued, a satisfied smile on his face. He was sitting on the bed next to Sakura’s, his legs crossed and his little notebook in one hand while the pencil, held by the other hand, seemed to move restlessly.

Sakura lost count of how many of those questions he answered in a five minute span. He had just got out of the shower and Nirei was already throwing one inquiry after the other. All he wanted right now was for Suo to finish his bath so he could entertain Nirei’s curiosity in his place.

With a defeated sigh, Sakura rolled his eyes as if thinking. “I-I don’t know, sour, I think? No, maybe sweet it’s better, but- agh, whatever! Both,” he groaned, part of him hoping for it to be enough to end Nirei’s questions.

But it wasn’t.

After noting something down in half a second, Nirei already lifted his gaze from his notebook and a satisfied smile rested on his lips. Damn it! “Ok, Sakura-san, would you say you-”

“AHH!!” Sakura groaned - or, maybe, ‘growled’ is a better description - “why are you asking so many questions?” He huffed, a faint rosy hue spreading across his cheeks. The awkward silence that followed only made it worse.

Nirei blinked quietly, as if processing Sakura’s reactions. “Oh, to gather more information about you, Sakura-san,” he nodded promptly, his polite smile already back to his face. “That will help me understand you and- S-Sakura-san? Where are you going?” The boy spoke hurriedly as Sakura walked over the room, picking up his things before heading to his bed.

“I-I’m tired. I want to go to bed early. Good night!” He hissed, the last part even more aggressively than before. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, Nirei would spare him from the endless interrogation.

“Oh, good night, Sakura-san,” Nirei replied, watching as Sakura turned his back to him and shifted his position a couple times, probably trying to find a comfortable position in his bed.

As Sakura’s pretending went on, the only noise filling their bedroom was the one coming from the shower. But it was replaced soon enough, as Suo finished his bath and walked back into the bedroom. “Ahh, I really needed that after today’s-”

“Shhh!” Nirei interrupted, holding out his finger in front of his slightly-smiling lips. “Sakura-san is sleeping,” he chuckled quietly, pointing over to the other.

Sakura, with his face out of their sight, clenched his teeth. Just ignore them and keep pretending until you’re actually sleeping, he thought to himself.

“Hmm,” Suo tilted his head, placing the towel over his shoulders as he looked over to Sakura, narrowing his eye while inspecting the picture more thoroughly. Sleeping, huh? “Sorry, I didn’t know,” he whispered - or rather spoke in a ‘whispery’ manner -, “I could swear I heard you two talking just now.”

“Sakura-san was helping me fill the notebook with more information about him,” Nirei said while raising the book in his hand, “but he said he was tired and wanted to sleep early.”

‘Yes, and you two should do the same!’, Sakura though, closing his hand into a fist over the sheets. He couldn’t help, however, his curiosity in hearing what Suo and Nirei were going to talk about.

He could hear the shifts in one of the beds, probably a pillow being tossed aside and one of the blankets pushed away. What were they doing?

“Oh, you wrote a lot, Nirei,” Suo praised, leaning over the blonde to get a better look at Sakura’s page in the notebook. “Did Sakura really answer all that?”

“Well, not everything. There are things about him that I notice and decide that they are noteworthy. Or things that happen and I feel that are important enough to register. Things like that,” Nirei flipped across one or two pages, showing examples of what he just said.

On the nearby bed, Sakura couldn’t help but squirm a little, feeling curiosity eating him from inside out. He never bothered himself enough to check more than a couple lines in Nirei’s notebook - and, most of the time, they weren’t even about him. Thinking that Suo and Nirei were discussing him in detail…

That reaction didn't go unnoticed under Suo’s attentive gaze. So far, Suo found it curious how Sakura would decide for the most complex and difficult courses of actions to solve the most simple problems. “So, Nirei,” he muttered, the gears already turning inside his head, “what are those blank spaces?”

Sakura widened his eyes - but, thankfully, they were out of his friends’ sight.

“For things I still need to figure out. Like what Sakura-san’s laughter is like or if he has any notable weakness and-”

“Would you like me to help you figure those out?” Suo interrupted, tilting his head to the side while he looked at Nirei. 

The excitement in the blonde’s face contrasted the fear and worry that took over Sakura’s. Nirei nodded, almost in a hurry, and promptly held up his pencil next to the notebook. “A-are you sure, Suo-san?”

“Mhm!” Suo smiled, looking at Sakura and then back to Nirei. “Since he is asleep, hearing him laugh might be a little difficult… but we can try to look for any weak spots.”

“Got it,” Nirei nodded, watching while his colleague stood up and walked over Sakura’s bed. The quiet, gentle steps sent shivers down Sakura’s body - which he tried his best to conceal - while making him wonder what Suo was plotting this time.

“Sakura-san’s weakness…” Suo spoke gently, sitting himself next to Sakura’s “sleeping” body in his bed. Sakura gulped as he felt the mattress shifting, already bracing himself for the worst. “Oh.”

“S-Suo-san? Did you discover something?”

Suo chuckled, “maybe,” he looked over his shoulder to face Nirei and then back at Sakura - more specifically, at his ear slowly turning red. “Let’s see…”

!!!!

Sakura gritted his teeth, feeling each and every muscle of his body tense to strain any noise from escaping his throat. Meanwhile, Suo gently fluttered his fingers around Sakura’s reddish ear, caressing and stroking the shell and down the lobe. “Sakura-san’s ears always turn so red when he gets shy… could they be a weak spot? What do you think, Nirei?”

Why, why, why, why?!

Why was Suo tickl- torturing him like that?! Sakura’s lips trembled, threatening to curve themselves into a smile while Suo’s finger moved ever so slowly.

“I don’t know, Suo-san,” Nirei answered and lifted his eyes from his notebook, pondering on that question as if it was some deep and serious matter. “If blushing was the deciding topic, then his cheeks would be a weak spot too.”

“Oh, so smart, Nirei-kun ~” Suo said, but refused to stop the ticklish teasing just yet, continuing to gently wiggle his finger around Sakura’s ear. Despite being out of Nirei’s sight, Sakura’s smiling and shudders were as clear as day to Suo, who was, if anything, entertained by his stubbornness. “Let’s see,” Suo cooed, tracing his index down to the side of Sakura’s neck, wiggling it along with his other fingers.

“P-pfft… s-stohohop it…” Sakura whined, scrunching up his shoulder and trying to push Suo’s hand away.

Nirei nearly jumped out of his seat, panic kicking as a thousand thoughts crossed his mind. “S-Suo-san, he is going to wake up!”

“That would mean we found the weak spot, no?” Suo grinned at Nirei, managing to dig his fingers into Sakura’s neck despite his attempts to stop him. “Also, I didn’t know Sakura-san was ticklish… does that count as a weakness?”

“I-I think it does!” Nirei nodded, picking up the pencil and noting the new found information. He couldn’t say he fully agreed with Suo’s straightforward methods, but he also couldn’t question the results it brought. “So… ears and neck are ticklish.”

“I wonder if he is ticklish anywhere else…” Suo commented as his fingers trailed down, trying to sneak under Sakura’s arm, but being pushed away. He chuckled, at the reaction. “I think he is indeed about to wake up, Nirei-kun.”

Sakura huffed, hoping that - this time - he would convince the other two to forget about him. What a sweet mistake. All he could feel was a shift in the mattress before two hands began to knead and tickle his sides, forcing an embarrassingly loud squeal out of him.

“WAHAHAH!! ~ W-whaAHaht are you dohohoing?!!” Sakura laughed, pressing his elbows against his body as much as he could, but it had little-to-no-effect in blocking Suo’s fingers. “G-Gehehet ohohoff!”

“Hold still, Sakura-san,” Suo giggled along, pinching and prodding at whatever spot he could reach. “I’m trying to find your weak spot!”

“Buhuhullshit! AHAHahah, stahAHAhap!!”

While Nirei tried to find a way to sum all that into his notes - both Suo’s tickling skills and Sakura’s ticklish spots - Suo continued to test one spot after the other, swiftly moving around his victim’s body. At some point, he had Sakura’s legs straddled and the last spot he wanted to try at his disposal: his feet.

“H-hah, don’t you- hahh.. dare!” Sakura wheezed, trying to push his body up. He couldn’t see what Suo was doing and that definitely made things worse. “I’m warning you, don’t d-AHAhah!”

“Wow, I think I found it, Nirei-kun,” Suo teased, the corner of his lips curling up while he tickled Sakura’s feet, his right hand targeting the spot under Sakura’s toes while the left one scratched the ball of his foot. “He is laughing the hardest now, no?”

“Mhm,” Nirei commented, not taking the matter as playfully as Suo was. This was important data, after all, “compared to when you tickled his sides, he is also squirming a lot more now.”

“You heard that, Sakura-san?” Suo laughed, not even sure if his voice could make it to Sakura’s ears. “Your feet might be your weak spot!”

“SHUHUHUT UP! AHAHA- lehEHEhet go!!” He cackled while tears of mirth started to hang on his lashes. He banged his fist against the soft mattress and pressed his face into it, nearly laughing like a madman while Suo’s fingers skittered all around his soles. 

No matter if he tried to kick or move his feet in the little room they had, Suo always seemed to find a way to continue tickling him. Gently, then suddenly rougher. Sakura could never grow accustomed to it and, in the end, the only thing that he could think about - besides how bad it tickled - was why Suo was so good at this?!

Well, it didn’t matter. At least, not when Sakura felt like he was about to laugh his life away. “NIREHEHEI! H-HEHEHehehelp mehehe!!” He pleaded, reaching out to the blonde with his trembling hand - using the last bits of his strength in this final attempt of escaping.

Nirei chuckled, but couldn’t deny it was a little scary to imagine himself in Sakura’s face. Suo was scary, after all. “S-Suo-san, I think you should let Sakura-san go now!”

“Is that so?” Suo smiled, quickly pulling his hands away and holding them up in the air. “Did you gather all the data you wanted, Nirei-kun?”

“Yes!�� Nirei said, happily looking at all the spaces he managed to fill in his notes with the new information. “Thanks to you, I could note down Sakura-san’s weakness, a couple of weak spots and even write a good description of what his laughter is like!”

“You-” Sakura groaned, slowly getting on his knees on his bed, “you- ahh, will pay… for that!” He threatened, pointing at Nirei and looking at him with bloodlust in his eyes. Well, it made sense, he was the culprit behind this whole thing, after all.

Nirei gulped. “Maybe we should apol- S-Suo-san?!” He widened his eyes as Suo was already nowhere next to him. When did he even leave?! “S-Sakura-san, I-I can explain! Please, wait! There’s no need to get- wAHHAHH!!”

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Friendly Favor

ONE SHOT

<< Request >> "If you take requests for one shots could I please give one ? Soo the good ol’ trope where Harry and you are best friends but he thinks he likes someone else so he asks you to fake date him to make the other person jealous but during the process he realises that he loves you and happy ending . I’d be thrilled if you do write something for this but it not that’s totally cool too thanks anyways and have a great day 😍" - ANON

~~~~~

Summary: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.

A/N: This is my first fake dating trope fic. Hopefully it came out good.

Warnings: some explicit language, alcohol consumption, jealousy, arguments, fingering, hand/blow job

~~~~~

"I think this might literally be the dumbest idea you've ever had, H!" You laugh, grabbing a french fry from the plate sitting on the couch between you and Harry. You look over to find his arms crossed over his chest and a pout formed from his bottom lip. That adorable pout, with his pretty pink lips, that always seems to work on you despite your attempts to stand your ground.

"It's gonna work…" He grumbles, taking the plate of fries and moving them to the other side of him, just out of your reach.

"Seriously? You want me to pretend to be your date to a house party, so Chloe will get jealous and want to go out with you?" You laugh again in disbelief and lean over him in an attempt to reclaim your favorite comfort food. "That's seriously so dumb!"

"But it's a party. It'll be fun either way." He attempts to convince you.

"Full of people I don't know. I'd rather eat chalk." You respond, giving him a sarcastic glare, aware that your stubbornness will begin to crack any moment. Especially with his sultry dark scent currently floating around you.

"Come on… we're best friends… if you do me this favor, I'll… buy you something nice!"

"Harry, your idea of a nice gift is fuzzy socks. That's not really enticing." You giggle, reaching further across his lap, stretching your hand out as far as it will go but failing immensely.

"No, this'll be good. Promise. Plus you wear those socks all the time." He affirms, in that low, deep voice that causes a subtle shiver down your spine every time he uses it.

You and Harry have been best friends for years. Since right before 9th grade, in fact. You had moved in next door as the last school year ended, and quickly clicked with each other before it started up again. Since then, you two have been inseparable. At first, everyone thought you liked each other, but you both were quick to dispel those rumors. You didn't. You were just really good friends. But the older you got, and the more Harry denied it, the more bothered by it you became. He was everything to you. You trusted him, you felt safe with him, you had fun with him. You liked him. You loved him. Was it such a crazy idea that you two could be together? To you, the answer was always yes. He is very charming, and of course, very good looking. Every girl around swooned if he even looked their way, and melted away if he uttered the simplest "hello". He could be with any girl he wanted, and you were just you. Just his best friend. That's all you'd ever be to him, so that's what you'd settle for.

"Fine." You sigh, knowing that even if it hurts you, unfortunately you love him too much to say no. "I can do that. But I better get this gift even when this plan fails."

"If it fails. And it won't." He assures you, an annoying confidence beaming from his chest.

"Whatever." You reply, internally kicking yourself for being such a sap for him. He reaches around the back of your head and pulls it close to place a kiss on your temple.

"Thank you, babe." He replies, handing you back the plate you ended up forgetting about completely when his lips touched you. You love that nickname, but you hate it too, because you hate every girl who has heard it in the way you wish he meant it with you.

"Yeah, well, what are best friends for…"

×××

Nerves suddenly flood your brain as you walk up to the front door with Harry. Not only do you have to put on this little "girlfriend" charade with the guy you wish was your own, but you are worried you won't really know anyone inside, making an already awkward situation even more uncomfortable. He only mentioned Chloe being in attendance, because of course she is the only one he cares about being there. You know who she is, you have mutual friends of friends, and have been at the same hangouts or parties a time or two. You always thought she was a bit vain, and a big flirt with every guy who gave her the time of day, but she has clearly made an impression on Harry due to the fact that you're walking through the front door with a plan to make her jealous for him.

Harry immediately wraps his arm around your waist and you swear your knees could go weak at the gesture. You look up to where he stands next to you, watching him give you a quick wink, thankful that the lights are dim and covering up the blush rushing to your cheeks.

"Harry! What's up?" You hear, turning your attention further inside the house.

"Hey, love." He responds, giving a quick hug to Layla, a friendly face you are grateful to see. The three of you met this year, your junior year of college, all bonding over moving from small towns to this big, state university. You don't know her well, but at least you know someone. "Hey, YN! Welcome! I'm so happy you're here!"

"This is your party? This house is… wow!" You exclaim, your eyes wide as you look around the giant living room that makes your off-campus studio apartment look like a small cardboard box.

"Thanks! It's my parents, but they're never home, so I make good use of it." She shrugs with a smile. "Now, the drinks are in the kitchen, and everyone seems to have congregated in the living room. It's where the music is! So, have fun!"

She giggles and swiftly twirls around, waving as she finds more people to greet.

"Alright, girlfriend… drinks first?" Harry asks, chuckling as his palm leaves your waist and grabs your hand. This would be the sweetest little gesture if it actually meant anything real to him.

"Definitely. I'm definitely going to need one." You respond, letting him lead the way through a small crowd of people.

"Is it that difficult to even just pretend to love me?" He laughs, and you roll your eyes. It's the best motion you can think of to counteract every muscle in your body that wants to show him the exact opposite.

"Easy there with the love stuff… boyfriend… this is supposed to be a new relationship, right?" You remind him, and yourself.

"Right." He replies, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. He's easy to love, but this won't be easy to get through. He lets go of your hand and pours you a drink. "Let's mingle, really sell our story, yeah?"

You exhale heavily and nod, getting that firm reminder of the reason you two are really here, and that Chloe is actually the one he wants.

You take a gulp of your drink, grabbing his hand as he leads you to a small group of people you've met once or twice before.

"I didn't know you two were together." Someone politely states, causing Harry to squeeze your hand as a signal to really start up this charade.

"Yeah, s'kinda new." Harry shrugs and looks over to you with those sparkling green eyes you wish you could dive into. "But we've been best friends forever, so it was bound to happen."

Ouch. What a cruel thing to say, if he actually knew how true that could be for the two of you. If he actually felt the same as you.

But this is just a performance. For him. And since you genuinely feel the way he wants you to pretend that you do, you figure it will be easy to play along. So you will.

"Yep! He finally realized what he was missing out on." You smile as you turn your head to the group, your attention almost taken back by the way Harry clears his throat.

"I knew it would happen eventually! You're super cute together!" Layla exclaims, looking between the both of you with a tipsy smile. "And YN, you look fucking hot tonight, girl!"

You let out a laugh of disbelief. Your outfit is nothing special, even if you do feel good in it. Harry's hand wraps back around your waist and he squeezes your side.

"Yes she does." He agrees, looking over to you with a mischievous smirk. Those damn dimples could make any girl feel wanted. And, unfortunately, it does the same with you.

You shake your head and take another large sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol can kick in soon and get you out of your thoughts. You want to relax. You need to relax. You need to get through this night.

As the group disperses, you feel Harry pull you in tighter towards him, resting his forehead on your temple as he brings his mouth to your ear. Every hair in your body stands up immediately.

"You do look really good, babe." He states, causing your heart to flutter. As much as you know he doesn't mean it in the way you want him to, hearing those words causes your teeth to bite down on your bottom lip.

"Okay, hot shot, don't waste a compliment if people aren't around." You reply, trying to keep your composure and not completely melt at the whisper of words that just flowed out from him.

"M'serious." He sternly replies, causing you to turn towards him and be met with a frown. If he was truly yours, you'd run your thumb over to smooth it out and keep him calm.

Your eyes flicker down to his, then back up to the tension between his eyebrows. You're not truly his, but you're pretending to be, and this is your opportunity. You bring your thumb up to the line, slowly running it over and seeing him instantly relax under your touch.

"Thank you." You state, staring into his eyes for a moment before quickly bringing it down and patting his chest to push him back.

He gives you a wink and grabs your hand, pulling you to yet another small group of people, wrapping his arm around you in some way or another, and frequently placing sweet kisses on your cheeks, probably not wanting to do much more and cross the line. You weren't going to complain. You could enjoy this. You could definitely enjoy this.

×××

"Hello ladies." You hear that sultry British accent state, as Harry sits down beside you at the campus cafe.

"Harry. Please tell YN that she should come to the club this weekend with me and Seth!" Your friend Eva exclaims, causing you to roll your eyes. You don't mind parties, especially if you know people, but clubs are something different. Most of the time you avoid those situations and hang out with Harry instead. You find that to be a much better way to spend your time.

"Ummm… I was actually hoping she'd go to a party with me…" He replies, turning his attention to you.

"Again?" Your brow furrows in confusion, and Harry's eyes dart between you and Eva. She begins to look between you and Harry, rolling her eyes as he keeps a tight lip around whatever it is he wants to say next.

"I'm not giving up." She points at you as she stands up, grabbing her stuff and walking away.

You chuckle as she heads out and then glance back at Harry.

"So…"

"My plan didn't work." He states.

"I'm absolutely shocked!" You reply sarcastically and dramatically, throwing your palm against your chest.

"Shut up." He glares at you, returning his expression by sticking your tongue between your teeth. "But if we go to this party-"

"Seriously, H? Come on." You pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head slightly at his desperation. Why does he have to be longing for Chloe's attention? You'd give it all and then some, for real, if he wanted it.

"Please, babe! Pleeeease?" He scoots closer with a pout on his lips, and you hate that he knows that this tactic works well on you.

You sigh, in what is most likely defeat. You want to say no. You want to be selfish. You want him to give up on this plan and have him all to yourself.

"I'll give you a really, really nice gift…"

"I can't believe you're bribing me. And I can't believe it's working."

"Yeah? It's working?" He grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling himself closer for a hug. He looks up and you can see out of the corner of your eye that he is batting his lashes in fake innocence.

"Fine. I can do that. But no more help if this doesn't work out." You state, hoping that it won't. Really hoping that it won't. Even if he doesn't feel the same for you, at least you can keep your best friend around.

×××

The days leading up to the next party were the same. Almost the same. Harry met you every day with a coffee, walked you to most of your classes, and hung out with you at lunch each day, as always. The thing that changed was all the little kisses on your hands, cheeks, and temple. The wrapping of his arm securely around your waist and the occasional squeeze on your hip when his hand dropped down slightly. The way he surprised you by grabbing your arms from behind, and mumbling "hey babe" into your ear. It was only a week, but it was the best week.

However, it was all just for show, and it was going to end tonight.

As you get out of Harry's car, you instinctively place your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he leads you to the front door.

You're less nervous about this party, because it is once again at Layla's house, and at least you know the place, so maybe you'll also know some of the people this time. Plus you have Harry by your side. So as soon as you walk in, you both make your way to the kitchen for a drink, and he walks behind you, holding your hip, while you move over to where the rest of the crowd has gathered.

His palm rests on your shoulder and begins to stroke it back and forth. A warmth rushes over you at his touch. His now familiar, yet still exciting touch. You look up at him, being met by those deep, inviting dimples, and a seductive smirk. Your breath halts for a moment, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

He leans his head down and rests his chin on your shoulder, causing a subtle hitch of your breath. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping he didn't hear your embarrassing reaction.

"We're pretty good at this boyfriend-girlfriend shit, yeah?" He asks in a low mumble, not helping the rumble of butterflies in your stomach.

If he only knew you weren't pretending. You could just tell him you aren't. But you actually can't. You'd ruin his plan, and most likely your friendship. You don't want to lose him, even if you can't fully have him.

"I'm a great actress!"

"Yeah." He replies, standing up straighter and releasing his hand from you. "M'gonna get another drink. Want one?"

"Sure." You reply, downing what is currently left in your cup.

"I'll be right back." He states, walking towards the kitchen and leaving you to stand alone in the corner of the living room. You pull out your phone, hoping to distract yourself from the awkwardness of being by yourself, waiting for Harry to soon return.

×××

You don't realize, until you look at the time on your screen, that you have been standing there in the dim corner for twenty minutes.

You shake your head and make your way to the kitchen to retrieve the drink that Harry has clearly forgotten to bring you.

You turn the corner and glance around, stopping in your tracks when you find your best friend, leaning against the refrigerator, chatting with the woman sitting opposite him on top of the counter. Of course, it's none other than Chloe.

Your heart tightens. This was the plan. This is what he wanted. And he ended up being right, because clearly it worked out in his favor.

You slyly make your way to the other end of the kitchen and pour yourself a generous amount of tequila into a cup, finding the best thing available to mix it with before chugging half of the cup and refilling it to the top.

If he gets to have his fun now, you might as well try to do the same.

You put your head down and make your way back out into the living room, bumping into a tall presence before reaching your destination.

"Sorry! Shit! Sorry!" You exclaim, wiping the small bit of drink from your top, and looking up to find a wide smile and even wider eyes.

"I bumped into you, YN, it's all good." The guy replies, causing you to squint your eyes at the confusion of how he knows your name. He chuckles as he notices your expression. "Trevor. We had English 1A together last year."

"Oh my god. Yeah! Hey!" You blurt out, smacking your palm against your forehead in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"Like I said, it's all good." He chuckles, placing his palm on your shoulder. "Are you okay though? You seem a little… frazzled."

"Frazzled?" You giggle at the word, then sigh at the realization that his observation was probably pretty accurate. "I think I just need to sit down."

"Follow me, the comfiest couch is this way." He states, motioning for you to follow him as you both make your way to the other side of the large living room. You find the giant sofa and plop down on it next to him. There is a lot of space, but you don't shy away from sitting close.

"Better?" He asks, resting his arm on the back.

"Much! Thank you."

"So, would you like me to ask you what's going on, or distract you with my incredible array of celebrity impressions?"

You bring your legs up onto the seat, pulling your knees to your chest and taking another sip of the liquid concoction that now seems less intense than before.

"Ooh, impressions, please." You reply excitedly. This is something you can distract yourself with. He is somebody you can distract yourself with. At least for tonight.

"Okay, get ready. You're going to be amazed!"

×××

The night moves on as you continue to talk to Trevor, feeling a lot lighter than you had at the beginning of the night, even if your body is full of tequila.

"Have you had the barbeque chicken at that place down the street from campus?"

"No, but now I think I definitely have to." You giggle, not for the first time with him. The more drink that enters your body, the more you relax, and apparently the flirtier you get.

"Maybe we can go someti-"

"YN! I've been looking all over for you!" Harry exclaims, doing his best to hide the frustration only you can tell that he is withholding.

"Clearly not hard enough." You mumble under your breath as you roll your eyes at him.

"Can you come with me, babe?" He asks through a forced smile, his hand subtly balling into a fist at his side.

"Actually… babe... Trevor and I were just talking about a barbeque place I want to try." You snarl, pointing to the man seated beside you, wishing you could manage to ease the intense confusion plastered all over Trevor's face.

"It's all good." Trevor states suddenly, standing up and giving you a small smile. "Maybe we can chat later."

He gives you a thumbs up, which you assume is to ask you if you're all good, and you nod. He turns to walk away and you watch Harry's eyes follow him until he is out of sight.

"Come on. Please." He utters as he reaches his hand out to you, reluctantly being met with yours as you glare up to him.

He pulls you hastily through the crowds of people, simply nodding as some of them attempt to get his attention, and finally stops at the end of the long downstairs hallway.

He spins you around, your back resting against the wall, and his palms on either side of your head.

"Harry, what the hell is your problem? What was all that?"

"Me?" He growls, his chest rising and falling quickly as he looks around, his eyes resting back on yours with a great deal of intensity. "You're just sitting there, flirting with that fucking guy, when we are supposed to be together…"

"Are you serious? Are you actually serious right now?" You question, feeling the breath being drawn out of you the longer he stares. "I served my purpose, and now I'm having fun."

"Served your what?"

"My purpose! I was only here to tell you to make Chloe jealous right?" You sigh when your chest tightens, hating every bit of your statement. Also angry that he can't seem to let you have any fun of your own. "And you seemed to have gotten what you wanted. You definitely had her attention in the kitchen."

"No. I mean, yeah, we were in there talking-"

Suddenly, you're interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open, seeing Trevor step out and glance in your direction. Harry immediately grabs the back of your neck, pushing his lips against yours with more pressure than you thought would be needed to sell the moment. You hear footsteps become more distant and you push on Harry's chest in an attempt to move him back.

"What's wrong with you? He's not the one we needed to make jealous, you idiot!"

Harry's breathing becomes shallow as his green eyes pierce into yours, flickering down to your lips before rejoining your gaze.

"Kiss me again." He whispers.

Your eyes widen in shock and your head quickly swivels back and forth to search for anyone nearby. There's no one around. There's not even anyone to make jealous anymore since he has the one he wants.

"Why do we-"

"Just… kiss me again."

You are about to give some sort of rebuttal when his warm palms meet your cheeks, coating them in a heat that could burn handprints into your skin. He steps closer, your back now completely flush against the wall as his body presses into you. His lips quickly find synchronicity with yours, and you begin to melt. Your palms grab onto his shirt, desperately wanting to claw at the tattoos on his chest. His tongue parts your lips and you move to bite his lower lip, causing him to reach one hand down and squeeze your hip. Your fingers intertwined with his hair. His palm slowly moves its way up to your waist. You subtly push your hips towards his and let out a small whimper.

Then everything stops.

"Harry, why-"

"Fuck. I shouldn't… m'sorry. I shouldn't have done that." He fumbles, taking a step back and running his ring-clad fingers through the curls that yours were just tangled in.

"It's…" You begin to state, completely stunned by what just happened. By the way he just touched you, and kissed you, and held you tight. By the way it seemed to have been about something more than a stupid plan about someone else. By the way he suddenly halted it all. "It's okay, H."

"I'm… you're… we're too drunk for this. I think I just got… caught up in the moment…" He mumbles, refusing to look into your eyes and fixating his down to the floor.

"Oh. Ummm, okay. It's okay." You reply, suddenly feeling so embarrassed and so vulnerable.

"You were right. This was a dumb idea. It… it was a mistake."

Your stomach turns into knots.

"Harry…"

"We're friends. That shouldn't have happened."

The knot instantly grows tighter and your heart begins to sink.

"Like you said, I… I got Chloe's attention, so you're off the hook. You can go… be with that Trevor guy if you want."

Every muscle in your body is frozen from shock, and your mind can't seem to comprehend how the two of you went from what seemed like a passionate make out, to him basically waving you off.

"Right." You scoff in disbelief. You knew what the plan was, you knew the outcome he was hoping for. But you definitely didn't think you'd be hidden in the corner of a dark hallway, pressed against the wall by your best friend, practically feeling his heart pounding through his chest as he kissed you. You also didn't think he'd kiss you and then immediately dismiss you. You frown at yourself for momentarily believing that anything different was going to happen. Whatever the past week has been, and whatever that kiss was for you, clearly it wasn't the same for him. Just a drunken mishap while trying to convince others of this fake relationship, and you don't want to stick around to see him actually give someone else what you thought that moment was for you. "So, I'm just gonna head home."

"Wait, YN, you don't have to leave."

"You can consider this a breakup or whatever. Have fun with Chloe." You feel a pressure of tears beginning to build, and the breath in your body begins to escape you.

"YN-"

"Goodnight." You state, pushing past him and heading out to the living room, quickly thanking Layla for her hospitality.

Before you reach the front door, you feel a gentle grasp of your wrist and turn to find Trevor's concerned eyes turning downwards.

"YN, are you alright?"

Tears threaten to form as you cover up your sadness with a subtle nod.

"Do you need me to take you home?" He inquires, a softness in his eyes that could probably calm you in any other situation.

Your eyes shoot over to Harry, instantly finding him leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed over his chest and a daggered glare shooting towards the both of you.

Sadness is suddenly accompanied by anger and you gaze back at Trevor.

"I'm actually meeting up with some friends. But… could you wait with me outside while I order an Uber?"

He smiles and nods, placing a hand on your back as you begin to twist the door handle. You shoot one last look back to your best friend, and see him standing up straight, eyes wide and fists clenched.

Well, one of you got what they wanted tonight.

×××

You had surprised your friends by arriving at the club. And you shocked them by showing up without your usual companion, Harry.

As you wait for the bartender to hand you some shots, you explain everything to Eva and Seth.

"So, lemme get this straight…" Eva begins, resting her elbows on the countertop, an eyebrow raised from your recent story. "Your best friend, who you are clearly in love with, asked you to be his fake girlfriend to get another girl jealous enough to want to be with him."

"Yeah. Dumb idea right?"

"But… you said yes…" She adds with a still raised eyebrow… "YN, that was just as dumb!"

"Well, I didn't-"

"Didn't think it would work?" Seth adds, shaking his head.

"Right."

"Still seems really dumb." Eva adds, causing you to glare in her direction and open your mouth to make your case.

Shot glasses are suddenly placed in front of you, and you are thankful for the interruption. You shoot yours down quickly, and look over to see Eva refuse the one she was handed, so you take it from her and shoot that one down too.

"Slow down sweetie." Eva suggests.

"I'm fine." You wave her comment off as you get the bartender's attention for another. You're not sure if your intention is to finally have some fun, or to drown out the events of earlier in the evening. But either way, you're going to drink enough until one of those things happens.

"YN…"

"Let's dance!" You shout, after downing your next shot.

"You never dance at clubs…" Eva replies, with what you assume is inquisitive concern.

"Come onnnn… let's dance!" You exclaim, grabbing the hand of each of your friends and dragging them to the dancefloor.

They follow you, seemingly reluctant, but begin to dance with each other as the next song plays. If they weren't your good friends, you'd be put off by their displays of affection for each other. But only because you'd be a little jealous. And now you're suddenly aware of the open space around your body.

You furrow your brow and explain to your friends that you'll be in the bathroom. Eva offers to go with you, but you insist that she continue to dance with her boyfriend. If Harry was there, it wouldn't be a problem. But now you're a third wheel and you're not about to ruin their night. You've already had enough of that for yourself.

You enter the bathroom and immediately pull out your phone, not hesitating to dial the first contact on your 'favorites' list. No one else could hold that space.

"YN?" You hear on the other end, a gentle tone coming through the speaker.

"Harry, your idea was fucking stupid!" You immediately exclaim, shouting to be heard over the music in the venue, even though the bathroom is only affected by a quiet thump of the bass. You'd take a moment to be more impressed if you weren't so drunk and angry.

"Yeah I know." He sighs, which begins to anger you even more.

"I fucking hated it. It was stupid. You're stupid." You begin to fumble, leaning against the bathroom wall as your knees begin to wobble the same amount as your words.

"Are you… drunk?"

"No!" You shout, grabbing onto the nearby sink to steady yourself. "Maybe."

"YN…"

"That's what you do when you break up with someone right?"

"What?"

"Even though it was fake. Fucking fake. But still..."

"Where are you?" He asks sternly, and even in your intoxicated state, you can picture every detail that is most likely displayed on his face. The serious furrow of his brow, the inward pull of his lips, the shifting of his weight from one foot to the other. You know every part of it.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine!" You snap back. "I've got Eva and Seth. And not you! And it's fine. I'm fine!"

"YN-"

You pull the phone away from your ear and press the button to end the call. The shots have not given you results for either of the options you were deciding between when you got to the club, so you choose to gather yourself and go to grab another.

You bring your other hand to rest on the sink and look up into the mirror. You're not too much of a mess, but you notice tiny lines of mascara running down your cheeks. You didn't even know you had been crying. Crying for Harry, who isn't even yours. Wasn't yours before, wasn't yours tonight, and won't be yours ever. At least, not in the way you really want him to be.

He really can have whoever he wants. And it's not you.

You scold yourself for letting any feelings for him form, and then grow. He's your best friend. And obviously that'll never change. Unless you aren't even friends anymore. He looked so embarrassed after kissing you. He agreed it was a dumb idea. He told you it was a mistake.

A mistake.

So, he can fuck off. You can do what you want, and right now, that's going to get another shot.

You walk out and back over to your friends, ignoring the mildly concerned looks on both of their faces.

"YN…" Seth begins, stopping his movements from behind Eva.

"Please don't. I'm fine." You respond, beginning to dance and twirl around with his girlfriend. Seth offers to grab some water for everyone and leaves the two of you on the dancefloor.

You glare at the back of his head, quickly following his footsteps towards the bar.

"Three waters please." You hear him state.

"And another shot!" You add, crossing your arms as he glares back at you, as if you're locked in some kind of parent-child standoff.

You grab the shot glass and instantly shoot it back, taping it on the countertop to ask for another. You turn back to Seth with a smug look on your face, at least you're hoping that's what you are portraying, but you notice his gaze is focusing just behind you.

Your shoulder becomes warm and weighted with a palm twisting you around, and you turn to be met with those glistening green eyes.

"Oh, what the fuck. What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here, YN?" Harry asks, his hand still firmly, but somehow also tenderly, on your shoulder. You hate yourself that just this simple touch is getting your heart fluttering again.

"I'm having fun… with my friends… nothing new."

"Oh really? Since when do you go to clubs, and knock back shots like there's no tomorrow?" That familiar furrow of his brow appears and your instinct wants to smooth it out. But your anger quickly convinces you otherwise.

"Since tonight." You reply, crossing your arms again and doing your best to stand your ground. Physically and metaphorically.

"I think I should take you home." He suggests, moving his hand down your arm and gently holding your hand.

"I think you should fuck off!" You begin to shout, yanking your hand from his hold, letting the alcohol take over your judgment and your tongue.

Harry steps back and you can read the disbelief all over his face, as if it were an open book sitting right in front of you. If you're honest, you are a bit shocked by yourself too. You've never spoken to him like that before. Fought with him? Of course. You've known each other so long, that's only normal. But that? A statement like that isn't normal for you to make towards him. To be fair though, not much about this night has been normal.

"Come on, please. Let's get you home." He reaches out for your hand again, and once again, you pull it away.

"No!" You shout.

"Fine." He throws up his hands, never being one to push or force you to do anything you don't want to do. He turns around and begins to walk out of the club, but with the alcohol and the frustration mixing together, you huff and begin to follow him outside.

"Hey!" You yell from behind him, the cold air hitting your very heated face instantly, and causing a chill to spike all over your body.

He stops immediately, not turning around as you catch up to him, forcing you to move in front of him and stare into his eyes as if you were the one towering over the other.

"Yes?"

"You…" You begin to pant from the exertion from following him, and the cold air penetrating your bones. "You don't just… you don't just get to come here and... and act all protective and shit!"

"Why wouldn't I?" He scowls, suddenly switching back to the one who towers over you. "You're my best friend, YN! And you're wasted. I talked to Eva and Seth, they were worried about you."

"Right, Eva and Seth. Who I'm here with. Not you." You growl, glaring into his eyes as if to actually pierce your frustration into them.

"YN, I was worried about you too."

"I'm fine!"

"Yeah, you keep saying that…"

"And I… I am! You don't have to worry… not about me. You shouldn't fucking be here. You should be with… Chloe. "

"Is that why you left the party all of a sudden?"

"I left because… you got what you wanted! You didn't need me anymore!" You yell, feeling a mild heat return to your body as the alcohol reignites the absolute flustering anger.

"I did." He replies softly, taking a step closer so that his warm breath steams over your face. You momentarily close your eyes and the sensation washes over you. "I wanted you there."

"Are you really that selfish, H?" You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, partly because of the temperature, but mainly to protect yourself. To protect your heart. "I did it… what you asked me to do… and you got what you wanted… you got Chloe…"

"I don't-"

"I didn't need to stick around… I didn't want to stick around!" Your tongue becomes numb and you can't seem to control the words as they spill out. "I didn't want to just stand off to the side… and watch you with her!"

"What?"

"Nevermind." You drop your gaze, hoping that you can get clear headed soon before you say something as dumb as the plan he had come up with. "I should've… I shouldn't have gone along with it. It was such a stupid idea!"

"YN…"

"You said it! It was a mistake!"

"Babe, please…"

"Don't call me that." You state sternly, lifting your gaze with the deepest furrow in your brow. Would he smooth it like you did for him earlier? No.

"What?"

"Don't call me babe. I'm not your babe." You take two more steps back and pull out your phone to call for an Uber. "Babe is for someone you're with, actually with. We're not together. I'm not your babe. It was just pretend."

"I've called you that for forever…" He replies, softening his tone as he steps a little closer, causing your breath to exit and forget how to reenter. How does he always manage to take your breath away?

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have."

"YN, come on, you're drunk. Please let me take you home." He pleads, wrapping his hand around yours and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. You look down at the gesture, feeling your cold demeanor begin to melt at the touch you've become accustomed to over the past week.

"No. I have a ride. Just go back to the party. Go back to Chloe." You grimace as her name leaves your lips, and your hand leaves his. "I've done my part in all… this.

"You know what, YN? You agreed to do it! But you clearly didn't want to and you didn't have to either. So whatever it is you're angry about, you can't blame me."

"Fuck off." You take every last ounce of self-control that you have to stop yourself from explaining why you're so hurt and admitting to what you've been feeling for years. It could only make things worse at this point. You sigh and look down at your feet, wishing you could be swallowed up by the pavement.

"I wouldn't have asked you if I knew that this, all of this, was gonna happen." He steps back and puts even more distance between the two of you and your heart sinks. Now it feels awkward. Now it feels wrong. "It was definitely a mistake."

"Definitely a mistake." You whisper back.

A car pulls up right in front of the two of you, and you know it's your ride. You look between the vehicle and Harry, not knowing which one to step towards.

"So, this… this is it." He crosses his arms over his chest, beginning to tap the back of one foot with the toes of the other, and clears his throat.

You step backwards towards the car. You didn't think this night could've gotten any worse, yet here it is.

"Goodnight, H." You state quietly, turning to grab the door handle, opening it, and looking back one more time at your best friend. If you can still call him that.

×××

The next day was painful for so many reasons, and the hurt just continued through that week. And then the next.

With how much you drank, you would think the night would be a blur, but the universe and your mind are cruel. You remember all of it. Feeling good with Harry, feeling hurt seeing him with Chloe, feeling distracted with Trevor, feeling ecstasy kissing your best friend, feeling embarrassed by his rejection, feeling way too drunk, feeling angry, and feeling hurt. Then, feeling nothing.

Nothing has been the same. Harry didn't walk you to any classes, or bring you coffee, or sit with you at lunch. He didn't come over every other night just to hang out, share food, and watch TV. He didn't call. He didn't text. Nothing. Nothing has been the same these past two weeks.

You had told your friends that you wanted to avoid any more parties, but with a bit of begging, Eva convinced you to go to Seth's birthday party. It was hard to say no to your second best friends, or maybe first now, especially when they mentioned that Harry never responded to their invite. It's not too surprising. He wouldn't want to be where you are.

So, you can be comforted by the fact that Harry won't be there. Although, 'comforted' feels like the wrong word. But Seth's parent's house is more modest, and you'll know a lot more people at this party, which should help you to relax even by a miniscule amount.

At least, you hoped it would. But whenever someone new walks through the door, your eyes dart over towards them. Your heart stops each time, until their name is spoken or you see their face.

You would grab a drink, but the anxiety building within is enough to fill you up, and you probably couldn't stomach it anyway. Plus you figure it'll be easier to leave the party early, since you are suspecting your ability and desire to hang out with everyone will be minimal.

×××

Whether it's the size of the house, or the actual number of people in attendance, this party feels a lot bigger than the previous ones at Layla's house. You've only talked to maybe a handful of people in this large crowd, but are overwhelmed enough to need some space.

You walk up to Eva and lean in to be heard over the music.

"I'm gonna get some fresh air." You quickly state, hoping your volume is enough for her to hear, but quiet enough for others not to. You'd rather be alone.

"Oh. Okay. But-"

"I'm not leaving…" You chuckle, knowing she wants you to stay as long as she can manage to. "I'm just going to the backyard."

"Okay…" She replies, her tone causing a mild curiosity in you, but brushing it off as just her drunken state.

You turn around and squeeze your way through the crowds of friends that Seth and Eva seem to have accumulated over the years. You don't know if you have even half the amount of friends they have here. One person seems to have taken away the need for a large group of friends. With just him, and a couple of close others, you've felt fulfilled. Complete.

Maybe you shouldn't take too long of a break. Maybe you should recharge quickly and get back in there. Maybe you'll need to start finding some new friends to fill that empty void you now have in your life.

No one else seems to be outside, much to your delight, and you catch a quick glimpse of a patio swing out of the corner of your eye, which you immediately decide is the place you want to be.

You walk around the outside furniture and barbeque, but stop as you look up to the swing.

Harry is there. Right there.

You can't tell if the sudden inability to breathe is due to an excitement to see the person you've been missing for two weeks, or anxiety seeing the person you were completely embarrassed and rejected by two weeks ago.

"YN?" He whispers quietly, his eyes wide at the sight of you.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't…" You begin to back up with very small steps. "I didn't know you were here."

He sighs, and it's potentially the saddest one you've heard, but that's the only thing that comes from him.

"I was just, umm, trying to get some air. But I'll… come back out later." You add. The reason to come outside was to relax, and clearly that won't happen for either of you if you stay. You turn around and head back inside, the emptiness in your friendship creating an emptiness in your heart.

Tears begin to cloud your vision. You do your best to guide yourself through the group of bodies to find a safe haven for yourself. The guest bathroom has a crowd forming outside of it, but you remember an office being close by. So through your blurry view, you fumble your way to the, thankfully, unlocked door and quickly close it as soon as you enter.

You take several steps forward, resting your palms on the wide, wood desk, and pull in some deep breaths. They don't last long as the door begins to creak open.

"Sorry, no one should be in-" Your words are halted as you turn around and are met with the most beautiful face. The face you're so familiar with, the face you've missed a lot, the face you love so much. "Oh."

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Can we talk, please?" He asks shyly, his head down and hand gripping the handle, only halfway through the doorway.

"I didn't think you'd-" You mumble back with a shaky breath, nodding and waving him into the room, watching as he hurriedly steps in, closes the door, and locks it.

He takes one step closer, still leaving an upsetting amount of distance between the two of you. But you understand. Last time you were close, too close, which didn't end well. Even though it was an incredible moment for those few seconds.

You shake your thoughts out as you are snapped back into the current moment by the clearing of his throat. You cross your arms around your body, a reflex to keep yourself together.

"What… happened?" He jumps right in, and you are so taken aback that you can't even decipher the context of his question.

"What do you mean?"

"That last party… it seemed to ruin everything. Things are so fucked up now."

Your eyes grow wide in shock. You figured he is just as embarrassed as you are, maybe a bit upset from your fight at the club, but you didn't think he'd feel like this. This intense. This harsh.

"I told you that plan was dumb." You respond, not completely meaning to make the statement aloud.

"Yeah, I get it." He frowns as he stares at the ground, clearly not even being able to look at you now. That hurts. "It was a huge mistake."

That hurts even more.

"You shouldn't have asked me."

"You shouldn't have said yes!"

"You shouldn't have kiss-"

You quickly shut your mouth, regretting those words, not meaning to bring it up and not wanting to admit that it means anything to you when it didn't mean anything to him.

"I shouldn't have kissed you." He finishes your thought with a shallow breath. You can see his regret, you assumed that was how he felt, but it still hurts. Not only because it meant something to you, and not to him, but because this is what it has caused. An awkwardness between you two. Between you and your best friend.

But anger begins to boil at the fact that this was all because of him and his stupid plan to win over some other girl. And that he only kissed you like that after seeing you hang out with another guy.

"So then why did you? Why did you kiss me?"

"You were with that other guy… you were supposed to… be with… me."

"Why did that matter? You were with Chloe! You got her! You got what you wanted!"

"I didn't get her. And I didn't get what I wanted."

"Oh my god, then I'm so fucking sorry if I messed things up for you with her!" You scoff, rolling your eyes at how pathetic this all is.

"I don't want to be with her!" He growls, running his hands down his face, then back up to run through his hair.

"Then what the hell is it, Harry? What the hell do you want that you didn't get?"

"You! For sucks sake! You! I want you, YN!" He growls.

"What?!"

"All I've wanted to do since that kiss… is kiss you again. And again." He moves towards you again, close enough now so that you can feel his warmth, and inhale his sultry dark scent, and feel that familiar tingle down your spine. "And again."

"But… we're friends…"

"Yeah. We are..."

Your body kicks into fight or flight mode, but is frozen in place. You have no idea where this is going and you're not sure if you want to know.

"Look, YN, I miss hanging out with you, and joking with you, and just talking with you. But now…" He sighs, stepping closer and closer until you can feel his breath on your face. "But now I also miss holding you, and making you blush, and kissing you."

Your breath hitches at his confession, your mind racing and your heart pounding.

"I… I thought we were just… pretending."

"I wasn't." He shakes his head, reaching his hands out to gently hold yours. "Maybe at first, because I was an idiot. But being with each other and doing all those couple-y things together made me realize I already had everything I wanted… with you."

"Harry, I-"

"I didn't even want to be with Chloe by that second party." He clears his throat and his admission causes your heart to flutter. "And she cornered me in the kitchen. I couldn't get away. All… all I wanted to do was be around you."

"Oh-"

"And when I got free, and you were with that guy, I snapped." He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I guess I kissed you because… I wanted… dunno. You pushed me away and I should've left it at that but I couldn't. I didn't want to stop. But after the second one, you gave me that look and I got scared that you didn't feel the same. That you didn't want more."

"But I-"

"If you don't, I can live with that. I don't wanna lose you. I need you in my life. You're my best friend."

"But I-"

"But I wanna be more." He admits, squeezing his eyes shut as he squeezes your hands. "I want more than that, and I just need to know-"

"Can you just stop talking?" You exclaim, taking your hands back and moving them up to his shoulders. His eyes grow wide, with an expression of mixed emotions. "Let me have a turn."

"Okay…"

"I got jealous. So jealous. I hated the plan. I hated seeing you around another girl, and wanting another girl. Because I want more. With you. And… I have for a long time."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't you?"

"Fair enough." He answers quietly with a small smile. "S'pose I just didn't want to lose you."

"Me either." You reply, a rush of pink appearing on your cheeks as you dip your gaze. A silence falls in the room, despite all the loud noises just outside the door.

"Do you want to be together?" He asks shyly.

Your brow furrows with sudden concern when you look back up to him, and his expression instantly matches yours. "Being together will change everything, Harry…"

"I don't think that's true." He shakes his head, using his thumb to smooth out the crease in your forehead, just like you did with him before. "It feels natural between us. We are comfortable with each other, we know each other, and we already spend lots of time with each other. This would just add… extra… perks…"

"Oh really?" You smirk, a tingle running through your body. "Like what?"

"Answer me first." He whispers, closing the gap between the two of you and resting his forehead on yours. He places both palms on your cheeks, giving you every sense of comfort and excitement possible. "I need to know what you want."

"I want to be together."

"Yeah?"

You nod.

He pulls back while his eyes flicker down to your lips and he grazes them with his own. All the breath in your body leaves in that moment and your hands work their way up to the nape of his neck. Eyes locked on each other, you could swear that your heartbeats are the only noise that can be heard.

"Harry-"

Your words are cut off by the feeling of his plush lips firmly on yours. Again. But this time, much better.

"Is this okay?" He asks as he pulls away, just enough to give you two some space to catch a breath.

"Yes." You giggle, twirling your fingers into his hair. You could get lost in his curls and not even mind. "Now, kiss me again."

His dimples pops in quickly before your face is pulled back to his with one hand, and your body pulled in with the other.

Your lips meet again, passionate and desperate, as if they've been starved since the last time they met. His hands waste no time and begin to roam your body wildly. Rubbing your back, moving down your waist, grabbing your hips, and gliding over your ass. If you thought any of the other times he touched you were exciting, this was absolutely overwhelming.

His body presses further into yours, causing you to slide up onto the desk behind you. Your lips are parted by his tongue and each movement raises in intensity. One hand moves to your knee, slowly making its way up your thigh and every ounce of heat in your body travels to your core.

His lips leave yours and move along your jaw, landing right under your ear.

"Is this okay?" He whispers, nibbling on your earlobe.

"Ye-... Yes." You utter, eyes closed as his breath hits your skin.

His hand slides further up and you've never been more grateful that you chose to wear a skirt, as you feel him squeeze his way to your core. He grazes two fingers over your drenched panties and lets out a pleased exhale.

"Bloody hell." He whispers, as you feel a smile against your skin in triumph. His fingers run up and down, teasing you, and creating an unbearable yearning within.

"H…"

"You want it?" He asks, with the low, deep tone that makes your knees weak.

"Yes." You whine, opening your eyes to look at him and not only show your sincerity, but also your desire. "Please, yes."

He slips in your panties, running his fingers along you again, your bare skin excited by the touch. Your breath hitches as his fingers dip slightly into your folds.

"Harry, please…" You plead, letting out a soft moan as they enter you and you feel the coldness of his rings hit your entrance. "Oh my god!"

"You're so damn wet." He utters, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. The actual touch, and the knowledge that it's finally happening with Harry, quickly builds the pleasurable pressure that he's giving you.

Words escape you. The sensation is taking over. You don't even realize you've made any sort of movement until your eyes snap open at the feeling of his hard bulge trapped within his pants. He growls as you palm him, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Fuck… YN…"

Your fingers move to the button of his pants, surprisingly able to undo it without any trouble, and as you pull down his underwear, his cock springs out of its confines. Your eyes shoot down as you wrap your hand around it. He is big. Thick and long. You've only ever imagined what he was like. You knew it wouldn't be disappointing, there was no way. But the actual view of his cock within your grasp causes your breath to hitch, and with his fingers inside of you, you get even closer to reaching your peak.

He moans as you pump your hand. You moan as he thrusts his fingers. Your noises being drowned out to others by the thumping music throughout the rest of the house, and only being shared between the two of you.

Harry curls his fingers up, immediately hitting your most sensitive spot. Your body shudders and you throw your head back as an exuberant exhale leaves your lips. He thrusts faster, curling up each time, and your thighs squeeze together as your orgasm draws closer. He spreads your legs apart slightly and wraps his free hand around your back, pulling you as close to him as possible and getting deeper with the access.

"Oh my go-… Harry… I'm abou- t- cu-"

"Go on. I wanna feel it, babe."

With the nickname that you have so desperately wished meant something more to him, being uttered from him in exactly the way you've wanted it, your orgasm tips over and your walls squeeze Harry's fingers as if they're trapping them there forever. You moan out again, and again, as the ecstasy floods over you.

Your free hand grips onto the desk for leverage, keeping your body upright and stable, as you do your best to continue your motions around his cock.

"Harry! Oh my god!" You exclaim, still panting yet opening your eyes to see the widest grin on his face. "That was… so…"

"Good?" He chuckles, biting down on his lower lip.

"Amazing!" You reply with a breathy giggle.

His mouth falls open and his eyes close as both of your focus fully turns to your work on his cock.

"YN… fuck…"

He pulls into your body again, grabbing your hips as he kisses down your neck and across your shoulder.

"M'gonna… fuck… I dunno where to… to cum." He mumbles between moans.

You push on his body, sliding off the desk. He lifts his head up and you smile when you see his blown out pupils.

"Can I…?" You begin to ask, both looking down to where you hold and stroke him.

His eyes snap back up to yours, desire and concern written all over his face.

"Are you… sure? You don't have to."

"I want to."

"Fucks sake. Okay. Yes. Yes."

You lower yourself down to your knees, looking up through your lashes as you notice him swallow hard at the sight of you.

"Are you sure?"

He nods, exhaling strongly, his chest rising and falling faster as you stick out your tongue to lick his leaking tip. You lick up his base before taking him in, his cock filling your mouth so much that you try not to gag immediately.

"S'alright." He mutters, starting to pull away.

"Don't move." You state, grabbing his hip to keep him in place. "You're big, H. I just need to get used to it."

He growls at the compliment and grabs your hair. You move slowly back onto him, stroking in rhythm with your hand, and getting him deeper each time your mouth takes him in.

"Oh my-... god."

He begins to subtly pump himself in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you have to pull off quickly.

"M'sorry."

"Keep going."

"What?"

"Keep doing it."

"Bloody hell."

You take him in again, adjusting to his soft thrusts, humming against him as he gets deeper.

"Fuck… m'gonna… m'gon-..."

You cup his balls, which sends him over the edge with a loud moan, feeling his warm release spill down your throat.

"Oh my god, YN." He whimpers, his eyes fixed down on you as he thrusts in deep, making sure you swallow every last drop.

You pull off once he's done, kissing his fern tattoos, and pushing yourself back up to kiss his cheek.

"M'sorry babe." He whispers, still attempting to catch his breath.

"Sorry for what?" You ask, suddenly worried that this may have been another mistake to him.

"M'sorry we didn't figure this out sooner." He smirks, running his thumb along your lips and placing his firmly against them.

"Better late than never." You smile, entangling your fingers back in his hair, deciding to make it their permanent home.

He tilts your chin up to look him straight in the eyes. "You are incredible. That… was incredible."

"What are best friends for?" You chuckle, sticking your tongue out between your teeth, but pulling it back in when you see him frown.

"It's what girlfriends are for."

"Yeah?" You ask and watch him nod, peppering kisses on your lips and cheeks, making you giggle. He pulls away and his gaze flickers between each of your eyes.

"I do have one more favor to ask, though." He states quietly.

"Oh god." You chuckle, not anxious in the least at what this request could be. "What is it?"

"Let me take you on a proper date."

You grin widely, matched by one from him, and you press your lips firmly together, now addicted to the feeling that you've been dreaming of for so long. Butterflies awaken in your stomach at his request, and you nod when you see the amount of anticipation splashed all over his face. You kiss his forehead and rest yours against it.

"I can do that."

~~~~~

Main Masterlist

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If you like what I post, and want to just send some extra support, I have a ko-fi account. Even the smallest amount is greatly appreciated. There is no obligation or expectation to donate, because I am honestly just so grateful that you're here! 💗 Bee xx

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[wonwoonlight]

shiny star / kim mingyu

➝ Mingyu x Reader (ft. Jungkook, Chaeyoung, Chungha, etc.)

➝ shiny star!au // university!au // non idol!au // friends to ??? // fluff // slice of life

➝ word count: 5.9~k

➝ warning: curses, food, mingyu is flirty (??) but not a playboy, he's way too perfect lol, basketball captain!gyu, OC is cool af according to me😎

➝ inspired by: Shiny Star (2020) - KyoungSeo

➝ shiny star playlist //  Shiny Star masterlist (can be read as standalone)

Seungcheol // Jeonghan // Joshua // Junhui // Soonyoung // Wonwoo // Jihoon // Seokmin // Mingyu // Minghao // Seungkwan // Hansol // Chan

A/N: as you've all guessed, here's Mingyu's Shiny Star! happy birthday, Gyu! this was fun to write and i'm pretty happy with how it turned out aha. hopefully yall would like this as much as i do, and pls do drop by and tell me what you think of this after you read

숨이 가득 차올라서 아무 말 하지 못했는데 I couldn’t say anything because I’m out of breath

너는 말 없이 웃으며 내 손 잡아줬죠 But you took my hands without saying anything but a smile

[✾✾✾]

This would sound annoying, but Mingyu is used to getting confessions. He enjoys the attention, enjoys knowing that people admire him even though he barely does anything. Yes, he’s handsome, has good grades, and is the star of the basketball team, but they all come effortlessly to Kim Mingyu.

He is God’s favorite, after all.

You genuinely think that whatever religion Mingyu believes in, every god that’s in charge of grace all helped to shape him.

But it’s not always a good thing. Because, fuck, it’s so stupid that your heart flutters when he grins at the audience after shooting a three-pointers. He’s not even looking at you, and he’s so cocky because he salutes to everyone as he runs through the court to hug his teammates. And yet butterflies would fly like crazy inside you and you want to hate it but you don’t.

Another reason why it’s stupid: you didn’t realize you’ve been staring at him–well, really, you’re staring at a random spot behind him because you’re zoning out, but it is him in your mind, so–until Mingyu tilts his head and asks if there’s something in his face because you’ve been staring at him for the past five minutes.

You blink at the question, as if brought back from a trance, and Mingyu chuckles and shakes his head before pouring water in the empty glass in front of you.

“You haven’t even drunk that much.” He grins as you thank him and take the water.

You’ve somehow been roped into the basketball team’s celebratory dinner, along with Chungha and Chaeyoung who are sitting on the other side of the table. Well, not somehow, you guess, because you’re friends with those two girls (who basically possess free passes to every social function in the university) and your childhood friend, Jeon Jungkook, is also in the team. Which means, you actually hang out a lot with the guys–and that includes Mingyu.

He’s barely even a friend despite your embarrassing crush, and you’re not that close even if you hang out a lot with the team.

“What’s bothering you?” Jungkook plops down beside you once Chungha goes to the restroom. He’s noticed you’ve been distracted from earlier, but you don’t seem to be in a bad mood or anything–simply too deep in your own thoughts.

You consider shaking your head and telling him nothing. What can you say anyway? ‘No biggies, I just have a crush on your captain here.’

“Just… something.” You leave it at that.

Jungkook isn’t the closest friend you have and you don’t always tell him everything, but he’s known you for way too long to know how to read your body language and your mood. Which is cool, but not really when you feel like hiding something.

That, together with his curiosity and his tendency to pry when he has nothing else to care about is not a combination you’re particularly fond of.

He narrows his eyes at you, and before he can say anything, you take a spoonful of cake and shove it inside his mouth with an innocent smile. Mingyu chuckles from across you both, and Jungkook glares at you even though he happily swallows the cake and frowns in delight after.

“I’m not letting this go.” He says under his breath before throwing an arm on top of your chair.

“Whatever you say.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t you have some girl to flirt with? Why are you here?”

“What, I can’t be with you? The oldest friend I have in my life?” He mocks a heartache, which you don’t even pretend to care about. Jungkook doesn’t usually sit beside you during this kinda gathering because someone always pulls him first, and you’re sure he wants something from you. He pouts at your deadpanned eyes. “My social battery is out. I want to go home.”

“I’m not your mom.”

“They won’t let me go if I ask.” He whines like a kid. “Tell them you want to go home so I can go with you? Please?”

Mingyu watches the interaction in amusement. He knows a lot of people envy you for being able to bring this side out of Jungkook, but anyone with a working brain cell can tell that there’s nothing sort of romantic between you two. Even from the very first time he saw you, he could already tell that you and Jungkook are nothing but friends.

But sometimes people just see what they want to see, though fortunately you don’t seem to care about stuff like that. Mingyu doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s clear that you’re your own person and you don’t really care about what people say about you.

He’s seen first hand you ignoring some girl saying shit in front of your face due to your close relationship with Jungkook, simply saying ‘you done? I have class in ten minutes’ after they rambled and leaving them dumbfounded after. (He thinks you’re so cool after witnessing that by accident.)

It’s not a secret that Jungkook is protective of you though. He always is when it comes to his friends. And Mingyu also knows that some of his friends have backed out from shooting their shots because they don’t want to go through Jungkook.

Cowards.

If he was interested in you, he wouldn’t care all that much about Jungkook.

Alas.

“I’ll take you to that dessert place in Cheongdam if we go home now.” He hears Jungkook whisper, though he doesn’t see why the guy is whispering when no one seems to be listening to his hushed conversation with you except for him, that is.

“You’re paying.” You add before you stand up and announce you’re tired so you’re taking Jungkook home with you. Some people try to convince you to stay for a little bit more, but you make up some reasons about having to wake up early tomorrow.

“Can’t believe you’d use your friend like that, man.” Mingyu jokes when you leave to say bye to Chaeyoung and Chungha.

Jungkook shrugs. “That’s what friends are for.”

You tell Jungkook you’re ready to leave, and he immediately stands up from his seat and slings an arm around your shoulder. You give Mingyu a smile and a wave before proceeding to do the same to everyone else.

He fails to notice your shy demeanor when your eyes meet his, but Jungkook doesn’t and he brings it up the moment you’re inside the comfort of his car.

“So. Mingyu, huh?”

At this point, you’re not even surprised. But you’re going to play stupid first because why make it easy for him to pry?

“What’s with him?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Since when have you been crushing on him?” He shoots straight to it, and plasters his face right in front of yours.

You swat his face away and tell him to start the car already.

“I’m not doing shit until you tell me.”

“I thought you said you’re out of social battery?”

“You know you don’t count.”

“Oh, how special I’m feeling right now.”

You and Jungkook go into a stare off, and  it’s during times like this that you hate his big, circle eyes because they get on your nerves. You sigh and repeat what you said earlier, saying that you’ll tell him as he drives you back home.

“You know I’m not going to say anything about it, right?” Jungkook says just in case.

“I know. I simply didn’t tell you because it’s nothing but a crush.” You connect your phone to his car’s bluetooth, choosing a random playlist on your Spotify. “I don’t like him enough for it to be worth mentioning.”

Apparently, he doesn’t believe this.

“Since when?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Since when?”

You sigh, regretting giving in to him.

“Like… a few months ago? That time you had practice until 1 in the morning and you asked me to pick you up.”

Jungkook’s answer is immediate together with a click of his tongue. “That’s not a crush alright. That was almost a semester ago.”

“Almost. So it’s not a semester ago.” If he wants to play stubborn, so can you.  

“If you don’t like him enough, you wouldn’t be avoiding his eyes and zone out the way you did.”

“So, I’m a little shy, is that wrong?”

He softens at your defensive tone, and he takes one of your hands to squeeze it in comfort before letting it go.

“You know that’s not what I mean. Sure, let’s say it’s nothing but a crush–”

“–because it is–”

“–Why are you not doing anything about it? It’s been at least five months and you see him quite regularly.”

“I told you. It’s just a crush.” You shrug, failing to see why Jungkook is making a big deal out of this. “I don’t see us getting together. He’s way out of my league.”

Jungkook is actually so shocked he steps on the brake with a sudden force. Thankfully, it’s 11PM on a Thursday night and the road is practically empty.

“What the fuck do you mean he’s out of your league?” He’s offended for your sake, you realize, and while it warms you a little to know that he cares about you to this extent, you still don’t see why Jungkook is so adamant about this whole thing. “He’d be lucky to have you.”

“Dunno. Just feel that way. But like I said, it’s nothing but a crush, Kook. It’ll pass.”

He’s not satisfied with this answer, but you do that thing where you cross your arms and look out the window of his car, a sign that you’re done with this conversation.

So Jungkook drops it even though he’s skeptical it’ll really pass just like that. It’s not often that you’re interested in someone, and he knows for a fact that you tend to fall long and deep.

You ask him when he’ll be free to take you to the dessert place he promised earlier.

[✾✾✾]

Jungkook forgets time when he’s playing basketball, and it seems like he’s also forgotten he’s promised to drive you home today.

The day has felt particularly long for you for no reason and you figure it’s probably just one of those days. Since you woke up this morning, going home is the only thing you’re looking forward to, and if that doesn’t say enough, the fact that you don’t even have it in you to be annoyed at your friend should suffice because you really just want to go home and end the day.

There’s no time nor energy to be annoyed.

He doesn’t reply to your text when you ask where he is, and when you text Minghao and he says he’s on court, you simply exhale a deep breath before making your way there.

Mingyu is about to exit the court when you come in, and you don't realize just how bad your mood is until you see him and you don’t feel the usual rush of excitement. You don’t even register that it’s him until he calls you.

“Are you… okay?” He asks when he notices you’ve just noticed it’s him greeting you.

“Ah… yeah. Just one of those days.” You shrug, your smile way too polite for his liking. He doesn’t think he’s seen you like this, but, then again, he’s only seen so much of you.

That fact suddenly bothers him somehow.

For some reason, Mingyu feels like talking more. “You’re here to see Jungkook?”

In any other scenario, you would’ve noticed the question is stupid. You really only come there for Jungkook. Sometimes you’d go because Chaeyoung or Chungha wants to watch them practice, but you never go there alone if not for your childhood friend. This is a fact that everyone in the team is aware of.

Alas, you’re tired and you just want to go home.

“Yeah. He’s driving me home.”

If Mingyu notices how small your voice is, you don’t notice any shift in him because you’re too out of it.

“I don’t think he’s going to finish anytime soon.” He frowns, turning to where Jungkook is. The guy hasn’t noticed you yet, your figure is probably partly hidden by Mingyu’s and he’s way too focused on the game to see you anyway.

Mingyu isn’t sure what makes him say what he says next, but he does anyway.

“Do you… want me to bring you home instead?”

You’re so surprised that you practically snap your neck to finally see him in the eyes. You’re probably looking at him weird, because Mingyu immediately says he’s simply offering because you look too tired to be waiting around for Jungkook. 

“Oh… no, sorry. Just didn’t expect you to offer, that’s all.” You reassure him. “I wouldn’t want to burden you, anyway. But thanks for offering.”

“You sure?” He asks, once again telling you that the current game has just started and Jungkook’s going to take quite some time to finish. “I don’t mind, really.”

Tomorrow, when your mood has picked up and your weak-ass-Mingyu-centric heart has started to work again, you’d wonder about why Mingyu offered at all. You’d be thinking about it for days to come, making all sorts of scenarios in your head.

But that’s a problem for you tomorrow. Right now you just want to go home with Jungkook because you can’t be bothered to walk to the bus stop when he has a perfectly working car that you can let your guard down in.

Plus, he has promised to bring you home. Since you stepped into the university this morning, you’ve been imagining going into his car, staring into space, and arriving right in front of your door without much hurdles. That’s what you want right now.

It’s then that Jungkook finally catches your eyes. He takes one glance at you and drops the basketball, the guy in front of him curses until he sees you; seemingly understanding the reason with your presence.

“You okay?” He asks right away, and when you tell him you want to go home, he curses and apologizes for forgetting to pick you up at your building. He wouldn’t be this courteous had you been in your usual mood, probably would ask you to wait until the game ended, but Jungkook knows when not to push it and today is certainly that day. “I’ll just get my stuff, okay?”

He only notices Mingyu after he says this, and when he asks his friend what he’s doing with you, it’s you who tells him to move faster because you’re tired.

“I’ve never seen Jungkook let go of a basketball so fast.” He remarks after the guy leaves, making you chuckle a little.

“He knows when I’m tired.” You offer. “And I’m not tired often, so…” Before Mingyu can say anything, you add, “Anyway, thanks again for offering. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” He says, surprisingly genuine and a little bit hopeful with what he says after. “If Jungkook is ever unavailable, feel free to text me and I’ll take you home instead if I could.”

You wonder if Mingyu does this to everyone he knows.

Chaeyoung and Chungha squeals the next day when you tell them about it, already betting that Mingyu is into you because there’s no way he’s not interested if he offers (insists?) to take you home like that.

You tell them he’s probably just being nice and it means nothing.

Your head (and heart) disagrees and you continue to think about it for weeks to come.

[✾✾✾]

Unfortunately, Jungkook is correct when he said you like Mingyu a little too much for it to just be another crush.

You’re not even sure how it comes to be, but the feeling now bothers you because you’d frown when you see yet another poor soul confessing to Mingyu even if they’re rejected; because you’d look at Lisa and wonder what it’s like to be her who can freely hog Mingyu to herself because they’re that comfortable with each other; because you’d find yourself staring at him a little too long that Chaeyoung needs to remind you not to be too obvious; because you’d be too conscious around him that you’re not you anymore everytime you hang out with the team now.

You hate it.

You hate being conscious around your friend and you’re trying to find a way to let go of your feelings.

“Confess to him?” Chaeyoung offers. “Or I suppose talking to Jungkook would be better. He’d know what to say because he’s close with the guy. Or do you want me to ask Lisa? I talk to her from time to time.”

“Confess, huh.” You ponder, the idea has never crossed your mind before. Things might get awkward between you and Mingyu after, but you’ll live because it’s not like you’re super close or anything. There’s no real loss, if you want to be completely honest.

Perhaps confessing would be the closure you need: have him reject you and move on. Sometimes a cold slap of reality is what you need, anyway.

“You think I should tell Kook first? Just in case it gets awkward between them?”

“Wait, you’re really considering it?” Chungha sits straight, not expecting you to actually take the idea. “What if he rejects you?”

“That’s the goal. Get rejected and move on.”

The two girls share a look, unsure what to say.

“But… you’ll be heartbroken…”

“At least it means I’ll finally get my closure. That’s the first step of moving on.” You’re a little too cool about the whole thing for their liking, but you’ve always been this kind of person and they don’t see why they should stop you if you think that’s what you need.

“You sure?”

You’re not, but you don’t think you have any other choice and the feeling is starting to get very irritating. So you make your way to the basketball court to find Jungkook after class.

Of course, it’s the object of your affection who sees you first, and you give him a tightlipped smile before asking for your friend.

Apparently, he’s in the changing room, and after sending a junior to call for Jungkook, Mingyu starts a small talk to keep you company. “He’s taking you home again today?” 

“Ah, no. Got something to talk about real quick.” You say with an awkward smile. Like you say, you hate being conscious like this, you’re sure Mingyu can feel your awkwardness, and you hate that you might’ve made him uncomfortable too without meaning to.

Poor thing doesn’t even know why you’re being awkward.

“Sup.” Jungkook calls for you the moment he steps into the court, and you wave at Mingyu before leaving him by himself to go to Jungkook.

He watches you take your friend by the arm to a corner where no one’s around, and then he sees Jungkook shake his head before you two start whispering to each other. He’s pretty sure Jungkook’s eyes linger at him for quite a few seconds before he looks at you again, his palm squeezes your arm once before he says something that Mingyu obviously can’t make out from where he’s at.

He’s not sure why he’s paying this much attention, but he is and he wonders if something has happened to you because Jungkook looks concerned, a frown evident on his face. He bites his lip a little, and Mingyu looks away when Jungkook glances at him once more.

Are you two talking about him?

There isn’t really anything to talk about though… right?

Something nags on the back of his head, but Mingyu can’t quite tell what it is and he’s not sure what to make out of it anyway.

Why… does he care again?

“You’re leaving?” Mingyu asks when he sees you make your way to him. At your nod and your small smile, Mingyu finds himself asking before he can even stop himself. “Are you okay?”

You seem surprised, but the corner of your lips lift a little higher when you assure him that you’re fine. You hesitate before you say your next words, but Mingyu patiently waits anyway.

“Are you… playing today?”

“Me? No, I’m done for the day. Why?”

“Can I talk to you for a bit?”

Mingyu blinks in confusion, not seeing where this could be going at all. Does this have to do with whatever you were talking about with Jungkook earlier? 

“Sure.” He shrugs. And when he looks around, his eyes meet Jungkook’s whose expression isn’t all that readable. “Here?”

You end up somewhere outside the building, where it’s quiet and no one’s present. If Mingyu isn’t too caught up in concern, he would notice that this scenario is way too familiar; one that he’s gone through one too many times. After all, how many times have people told him they needed to tell him something and brought him somewhere quiet to confess?

But it doesn’t even occur to him. Perhaps he simply doesn’t think you’re into him and there’s obviously no way this talk would go down that road.

“Are you really okay?” Mingyu asks again, even more concerned this time. It’s then that he realizes that this is the first time when it’s just the two of you. You’ve never talked with him privately before, don’t really have any reason to.

“Yeah. Just need to tell you something.”

You feel like you’re going to burst if you delay it even one more second, so you just blurt it in one go to get it over with. 

“I like you.”

Obviously, it’s not something that Mingyu can simply get over with.

“I’m sorry?”

He looks extremely confused, most likely caught off guard. But you’re happy to know that you’re feeling lighter now that you’ve let it out there. You find yourself not really caring about what Mingyu has to say, which is selfish on your part, but you’re really just glad that you feel better almost instantly after you say it out loud.

“I’m not expecting anything, don’t worry.” It’s the first time Mingyu has received a confession where the other party doesn’t seem shy and expectant and he’s not sure what to make of your relieved smile. “It’s a little selfish of me, but I just think it’d be better to confess and leave it there.”

You’re way too busy being glad to notice Mingyu is frozen in place, not expecting the relief to be that instant. You would’ve confessed earlier if you knew, but what matters is you finally did and you can only hope Mingyu won’t feel awkward with Jungkook. You can just not come to the game for a bit if it’s uncomfortable for anyone, but Jungkook is in the team and you’d hate to make it weird for them.

“Anyway, no need to be awkward with Jungkook, alright? I already told him everything.” What did you say to him, exactly? Mingyu wants to ask, but he’s too dumbfounded to even say anything. And it’s when you tell him that’s all you had to say before turning to leave that he snaps out of it and takes your arm in reflex.

“Sorry–wait. No.” He stumbles over his words. The way you’re looking at him in question is adorable, and Mingyu suddenly wonders if you’ve always been this cute. Has he simply not realized because you’re always with Jungkook? 

Anyhow, this doesn’t feel like a confession at all despite your honesty about your feelings. Who confesses and leaves before hearing an answer?

You, apparently.

But, then again, what is he doing stopping you from leaving? It’s not like he reciprocates your feelings or anything. But it feels weird to be on the receiving end of a confession like this. Shouldn’t he thank you for not making him reject you?

“Wait. You… like me?”

“Is it weird?” You frown, almost offended. You look at his fingers on your wrist, and Mingyu squeezes it once before letting go.

“No! No, that’s not what I meant.” He waves in denial. “Just… uh… didn’t expect it, I guess.”

You laugh with a shake of your head, and this is truly the first confession Mingyu has ever received in which the other person isn’t nervous and isn’t asking for a chance. You’re not even showing any sign of being shy. 

If anything, you look even more relaxed than before.

“Well, like I said I’m not expecting anything from you.” Mingyu wonders if you’ve ever smiled this big around him before. He’s pretty sure you haven’t, because he would remember a smile this beautiful otherwise. “So, no need to say anything back and, again, don’t be awkward with Jungkook, okay? If it’s uncomfortable for you, I can just not go to the games for a while.”

Are you seriously thinking about him being awkward with Jungkook when it’s you confessing to him right now?

“You don’t need to… uh… not go.” Mingyu stutters out of nowhere, and he curses himself for being awkward when you don’t even seem uncomfortable in the slightest bit. “We don’t need to be awkward, right?”

You shrug, your face void of any awkwardness. “If you say so. I’ll be on my way now. Thank you for not being weird about this, by the way.”

And as you leave him with a much better mood he found you in earlier, Mingyu wonders why he feels like he’s the one being rejected when it’s you confessing to him.

[✾✾✾]

You have expected Mingyu to be a little weird and awkward around you after the confession.

But you didn’t expect him to be around you.

It seems like, after the whole thing, he’s adamant to be close to you everytime he could. He’d sit beside you when you join team dinner, he’d accompany you when you’re waiting for Jungkook, and he’d even reply to your Instagram stories from time to time.

You don’t think too much about it, though it does annoy you a little because it’s making moving on harder. At least you’re no longer conscious around him and the others, which was the most annoying thing before and what drove you to confess in the first place.

Chaeyoung and Chungha (even Jungkook) ask you about it from time to time, but you’re consistent in your answer: that there’s nothing going on between you two and you simply confessed for the sake of confessing.

It’s been about a month since you confessed and Mingyu is immensely confused.

For someone who claims to like him, you’re not showing any sign that you’re into him at all. If anything, you seem uninterested; like he’s just a friend of a friend (which he kinda is). At some point, Mingyu even wonders if you’re simply messing with him.

He also wonders if that’s the reason why he starts paying attention to you instead. He becomes conscious of your presence, and he dares to say he’s enjoying it.

He finds himself smiling when you do, and he finds himself leaning to where you’re at every chance he gets.

And now, he finds himself thinking why you confessed the way you did. Why didn’t you ask for a chance? Mingyu is straightforward when it comes to turning down confessions, but he suddenly wonders if he’d try it out with you had you not simply gone on your way that day.

If there’s one thing Mingyu is bad at, it’s containing his curiosity. That, along with the fact that you seem pretty chill, pushes him to where he’s at right now: with you in the bubble tea place in front of university.

Jungkook and Minghao are whining for some, and when you volunteer to get it for them, it leads to a couple of other members of the team to ask the same too. Before Jungkook sighs and offers to go with you, Mingyu volunteers first because he wants to.

There. He admits it. He wants to spend some time with you.

As you two wait for your orders, you both sit at one of the tables and that’s when Mingyu decides to ask.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“When you… uh… confessed to me.” You don’t seem appalled to be talking about it, which encourages Mingyu to continue. “Why… Did you say you’re not expecting me to answer?”

“Uh, because I know you’re not into me? I know you’re going to reject me anyway.”

Mingyu frowns, his fingers that are drumming against the table stop at your words. “Why would you assume that?”

“Well, am I wrong?” You chuckle, and he doesn’t know what to make of your nonchalance. But he knows that it bothers him that you automatically think he’d reject you. Is that the kind of image you have of him? (It’s not entirely untrue, he is clear when it comes to rejection.) Or do you simply think he wouldn’t be into you?

“What if I say you are?” Mingyu decides to go for it. What he feels for you is not strong enough to be called ‘love’, maybe not even ‘like’ just yet, but he’s definitely into you and the thought of spending time with you has been clouding his thoughts over and over again like a heavy rain these days.

He can definitely see–no–feel himself falling for you deeper as time passes by. He just needs more time to get there, preferably with you.

“What are you saying?” You shake your head, trying to hide the fact that you’re flustered like your heart isn’t beating way too fast that it almost hurts. What is he saying, really?

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

Mingyu blinks, sure that he’s heard wrong. “No?”

But you’re clear when you repeat your answer.

“What do you mean no?” He asks, genuinely confused. “Didn’t you just say you liked me, like, a month ago?”

“I told you I simply confessed for the sake of it.” You remind him, though your calm tone relaxes him in ways he can’t really explain. Perhaps he’s just glad you’re not making a big deal out of it. “I’ve never had any thoughts of dating you.”

“Why?”

“You’re you.” You say like it’s obvious, but Mingyu is once again offended for you and he frowns before he asks.

“What does that even mean?”

“You’re Kim Mingyu, the basketball star with the perfect GPA.” You start to list all of his titles and his accomplishments in university, and it’s the first time that Mingyu doesn’t feel good at someone complimenting him. For once, he’s not all that proud of those things you’ve just listed down. “And I’m… me. People probably only know me as Jungkook’s close friend. Chaeyoung and Chungha’s plain friend. And I don’t mind being known as such, but it should explain why I don’t think I have any chance with you.”

Mingyu frowns, and he stares at you a little too hard that you can’t tell at all what he’s trying to express.

“I don’t like how you imply you’re not exceptional.”

“Because I am not.” You shrug, not getting why Mingyu sounds upset. “And it’s okay. Nothing bad about being ordinary. I like being ordinary. I can’t imagine getting all that attention you get everywhere you go.”

Mingyu kind of gets what you’re saying, but he still doesn’t like that you consider yourself ordinary. Nothing, not one single thing, that you’ve done to him has been ordinary. Not the way you confessed, not the way you act after you confessed, not the words you’re telling him right now.

And, now that he’s been paying more attention to you, nothing you do is sort of ordinary. You’re straightforward when you need to be, and you know exactly what you want and how to say them without sounding demanding. You’re not soft spoken and he means it in the best way possible, you’re good at reading the room and you know when to play dumb if that’s what the situation calls for. You know when to prioritize yourself and when you should prioritize your friends without being too selfless nor selfish.

If someone like you is what you consider ordinary, he doesn’t know what kind of person you’d consider special.

To Mingyu, you’re already as special as someone can possibly be.

How can you be ordinary if you confessed and then said ‘no’ when the said person asked you out on a date?

Wait. Did you think he was kidding?

“Anyway, I wasn’t kidding when I asked if you want to go on a date with me.”

“And I wasn’t kidding when I said no.” You chuckle a little, making Mingyu all the more confused.

“Why?”

“I told you. You’re Mingyu.” When he demands more explanation with the look in his eyes, you finally give in to honesty. “You’re too handsome. Too perfect, in fact. It’s burdensome to be with you. I don’t feel worthy enough.” You scrunch your face, and Mingyu needs to contain himself before he reaches out to squish your face. 

Funnily enough, Mingyu doesn’t feel offended when you say this, just entirely dumbfounded that the things that are supposedly good are the reason why you don’t want to go on a date with him. Plus, what do you mean you’re not worthy enough?

“I’m nothing like that. No one is perfect”

You roll your eyes and wave a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You’re still too handsome. If you’re, like, only a little handsome, I would’ve said yes.”

Mingyu bursts into laughter, not getting what you’re saying at all and finding the whole thing funny at this point. But if there’s one thing you should’ve known about him, it’s that he’s stubborn and he’s competitive.

He’s not the basketball captain for no reason.

“You know you’re not making any sense?” He asks after his laughter dies down. But then something hits his mind and he gets serious. “Do you not like me anymore?”

“I still do.” You reassure, much too chill like the feeling doesn’t bother you. Should Mingyu be grateful? “But I told you you’re too handsome and a little burdensome to date. That’s why I confessed, did I not tell you? I just wanted you to reject me and move on from then.”

Mingyu blinks once. And then twice. Mouth a little ajar as his head tries to proceed your words

Not one single word from your mouth makes sense. Did you just say you confessed to him because you want to get rejected? Anyhow, now he knows you still like him and that leaves him one thing to do: convince you to go on a date with him.

“There’s no way I’m letting you move on.” He grins, now sure about his plan moving forward. You look at him confused, though he can tell that you’re a little flustered and he can’t help but think he wants to see more of that. “You’re going on a date with me, alright?”

You huff a chuckle, incredulous, and one corner of your lip lifts in genuine amusement. “I guess if you’re able to convince me somehow.”

“Deal.” Mingyu grins and you feel giddiness fill you inside out like never before as he stares at you with determination. “Remember that you allowed me to try. You don’t get to complain later on that I won’t stop following you every chance I get.”

[✾✾✾]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any translations or reposting of my works.

A/N: so here goes the latest shiny star!! this is both "Mingyu's birthday is closeby" and "I got a sudden strike of inspiration" lol. i finished writing this in like,, 2, 3 days? anyhow, i hope you like this as much as i do. pls do tell me what you think of it <;3 again, i didn't think shiny star would get to this point when i wrote wonwoo's lol but i'm thankful a lot of you seems to like it hehe

permanent taglist: @kyeomjjigae @stantrash171819 @sebongmochi @luveveryonewoo @thinkinboutwonu @kpopjackie @ursweetener @lavenderautumnx @itsveronicaxxx @shuahoshiscoups @sunshinein17@leechanniee@twogyuu@hoe4wonwoo@h3h3tm0n@noraehey @seokshook@rubyhoons @02psh @just-here-to-read-01 @listxn @janandbeyond @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly @svtreverie @coveyland @reallydgafaboutmyusername @sysymei @ovai @aikisbbq @fr0g-filez

[writeroutoftime]

made to take up space

pairing: nesta archeron x dawn court!gn!reader (requested by: @lucien-calore)

summary: when you find nesta picking herself apart, you are there to put her back together.

words: 1.1k

warnings: feelings of insecurity, self-doubt, and body issues (all coming from nesta)

a/n: ahh my first time writing for nesta!! this was so much fun, but I'm also so nervous to share! please enjoy and hopefully this doesn't feel too ooc for our girl! (also, feel free to send in any other acotar or crescent city requests!)

oOoOo

Training was long and brutal. Tired and sore, you trekked through the halls of the Dawn Court palace, rolling your shoulders and stretching your wings along the way. The thought of collapsing into bed and curling up next to your mate was the only thing that pushed you the last few steps into your shared bedroom instead of collapsing on a nearby bench.

Carefully, you peeked into the room and made sure to stop the door from slamming behind you. When you left earlier that morning, Nesta was still curled underneath the cool sheets, deep in sleep despite detangling your limbs from hers. You hoped she was still there, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around her - pretending the rest of the world didn't exist for a little while longer.

What you didn't expect was to find your mate up and out of bed, standing before the full-length mirror as she examined every inch of her body. Staying off to the side, you watched with rapt attention every move, frown, and frustrated huff Nesta made.

"Absolutely stunning." you spoke up, finally revealing yourself.

Your head rested in the crook of her neck and your arms immediately wrapped around her waist once you took the few steps to fully be in her presence. Her blue-grey eyes met yours through the mirror, but instead of their usual playfulness, they were glazed with sorrow.

"What is it, Nes?" you asked, gently.

She shook her head, taking a deep breath. Her ploy to play it off and tamp down her feelings was obvious. "Nothing, I just thought I saw a mark somewhere. Guess I was wrong."

With a frown of your own, you spun Nesta around until. Her gaze was fixed on your bed to your side, so you gentle curled a finger under the soft skin of her chin, encouraging her to meet your gaze. She did, her warm breath kissed your face, tugging your lips into a hint of a grin.

"Well," you started slowly, lovingly racking your eyes over her form. "I'm happy to report you are mark free." you fully smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

Before she could reciprocate, you pulled her away and guided your mate back to bed. Arms and wings open in invitation, she gratefully sunk into your embrace, nuzzling into your body. Though she seemed content in the moment, you felt a tinge of self-doubt down the mating bond and grasped her tighter.

It had taken some time, but you knew that pushing Nesta to open up before she was ready was the worst thing you could do. It was in her nature to bottle up her emotions until they shot out like a rocket. A lesson that had taken you a few weeks to learn after the bond snapped, but you knew better now. Nesta would come to you when she was ready.

Thirty minutes later and you let out a sigh, forcing yourself to pull away from the cocoon you and Nesta had wrapped yourselves in. "Sadly, I think we have to join the real world, love." you whispered, peppering soft kisses across the expanse of her shoulders.

You dressed in silence and felt Nesta's gaze on your form. As you pulled a shirt over your head, the sheets rustled behind you. Nesta had sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, staring ahead.

"I don't like the way I look now." she confessed, voice so soft and breathy that you would have missed it if not for your fae hearing.

In an instant, you were by her side, sliding up next to her on the bed. Your hand soothingly slid up and down her back. No pressure for her to speak, just allowing her words to occupy the space. The tears in her eyes shined as she tried desperately to will them away.

"I don't recognize who I see in the mirror."

"You're taking care of yourself now." you spoke carefully. "Of course you're going to look different."

Her shoulders shrugged and her right hand quickly darted out to furiously wipe away the traitorous tears that rolled down her cheeks. "Guess I'm just not used to

"Nesta," you began, borderline sternly. "you are allowed to take up space. In fact, I'm thankful for it. Because it means that you are here, by my side, and you get to show that to everyone else." you told her as you cradled her face between your hands.

The words washed over Nesta, and she broken down in that moment. Sobs wracked her body and she fell forward into your chest. There was nothing to do but hold her tight as you sent every shard of love you could down the bond. You swore your heart broke - that there was no greater pain than knowing, and feeling, just how little your mate thought of herself.

"Protect. Defend. Love." the bond sung in your heart.

You knew her time in the human lands had caused an immense about of pain on her soul, along with her first few years in Prythian. The blood in your veins began to boil and you wished to use your train to strike down anyone and everyone who had made your mate feel less than.

"I know you might not believe it now, but you are beautiful - inside and out." you said, knowing your words and presence meant more in that moment than any retribution would.

Nesta's sobs subsided, and her breathing evened out. She pulled away to look into your eyes, suddenly shyer than you had ever seen her. "I appreciate the words. I suppose it's just hard to get my mother's voice out of my head. Stay thin, stop eating, secure a marriage - that's all you're good for." she whispered, as though she were now snuck in a trance.

"I can't take back the way your mother made you feel." you admitted. "But I can tell you that is all utter bullshit. Every time you join me for a meal, it makes my heart sing to see you care for yourself. When you train, I see you get stronger - physically and mentally. Of course there will be changes, but I'm here to love you every step of the way."

Her forehead rested against yours and you entwined your fingers with Nesta's, squeezing tight. It was silent, but the slightest nod of her head told you that Nesta heard the words. You knew all wouldn't be fixed by the time the sun set, but it was a start. All you needed was a start, and you'd show your mate how happy you were to take up space with her.

[paperclip-skz]

Devil in a Dress

fem*Reader x Lee Know

no warnings

a/n: Idk if I should call this fluff or angst, this is just fun.

summary: Minho is forced into going to this art auction in hopes of finding a rare painting, but when YOU catch his eye, his night takes a slight turn.

WC: 1.7k

***

She was stunning. She was more than stunning, she was breathtaking. A silky gold dress that hugged each one of her delicious curves. Her feet glided across the hard floor like she was walking on thin air, her heels clicked and echoed through the building, I had never seen anyone so desirable. 

Without a second thought, I lifted off my stool at the bar, heading to my target of the night. “Hello” 

“Hi, can I help you?” god her voice is even sexier. 

“Hopefully” Naturally my tongue darts out to wet my lips, and I can see her eyes quickly dart down. I wonder what you're thinking. 

“Lee Min-ho, but my friends just call me Minho.” I hold out my hand lazily, trying to act cool. 

“Y/N, you’re very bold Minho. I could be here with someone” Her eyes challenge me, and I love it. 

“Are you?” I challenge back. 

“No” curt and stern, but her voice makes it sound like music. 

Her eyes glance down to the empty stool next to her, I’m quick to take it and raise my finger for a drink. Quickly, a glass is placed in front of me and I start to twirl circles around the glass rim with the tip of my finger. 

“So, Minho. What exactly is your goal here?” She stares at my movements and her teeth grasp her bottom lip. I want to tug on that lip. 

“I’m not sure yet, you're proving to be very interesting” She lets out a slight chuckle, and my heart warms. I want to hear that again.

She raises her glass to reach her, the bitter liquid sliding past her glossy lips. I’m transfixed by every movement she makes, even the subtle ones “Are you here for the auction too? Or do you always wear a suit and tie to every bar you pass?” Snarky…cute.

Right the auction. I had almost forgotten why I was here. My tongue darts out to the corner of my cheek “I am here for the auction, as I assume you are too?”

“I am, I’m looking for something specific” 

She turns her body facing towards the crowd of people that have lingered into the bar, where the auction will be held. It's a standing auction, with a small elegant stage at the far end of the bar, where the auctioneer will be listing off the items. 

I was forced into going to this little event, I would much rather be at home doing anything else than standing around listening to people waste their money on meaningless pieces of art. However, a friend of a friend called me and said that a Marie Bronte was up for auction. The artist has been known to hide things in her pieces, valuable things. The second I heard that name I didn’t ask a single question before I jumped into my car and started driving. 

Now, it seems I’ll be leaving with a lot more than just an art piece. 

“Are you a collector or something” 

“Or something” she replies, her attention has fallen away from me and off to the crowd of people gathering to the stage. “It seems like our fun has come to an end, if you’ll excuse me” Y/N begins to lift from her seat and walk away, but the conversation is too short. I gently grab her by her arm and she whips her body back to look at me. 

“What if I want to keep talking” I flash a cheeky smile and she giggles again. I let go of her arm as she slowly walks to me. She rests her hand on my chest as she leans in close to whisper in my ear. Her breath sends chills down my spine.

“If you can catch me, then we can keep talking”

Then, she disappears into the crowd. 

***

It's been 30 minutes into this thing and Y/N or this Marie painting is nowhere in sight. I’m about to give up and leave when I see a glimmer of golden fabric escape into a hallway. My chest fills with an unexpected thrill and I dart to where she ran off too. 

“Ladies and gentlemen I need to make an announcement” The sudden change of tone in the auctioneer catches me off guard and I halt my movements. “The Marie Bronte piece has been… put out of place. We are unable to present it tonight and we are sorry for any inconvenience, however, we shall move on to the next piece showing tonight” 

They’ve lost the Marie piece? How idiotic can they get…unless? 

Her voice lingers in my head “Or something”....” I’m looking for something specific” … it couldn’t be. 

My feet are moving faster than my head can process and I’m darting toward the hallway my mysterious she-devil has escaped to. 

It's dark and quiet. A strange comparison to the gathered bodies and mingling conversation only a few feet away. I continue my path down the hall until I hear clicks of heels running. The adrenaline kicks into my legs and I start to jolt down the hallway, hearing the clicks getting closer and closer as I approach. 

I catch another glimpse of her golden dress until it disappears again into a closed door. I wait a moment, steading my hand on the door nob, a trickle of sweat glistens down my forehead. I quietly open the door and slip my body inside. I lock the door with a shushed click - I want to at least block one exit - and slowly make my way inside the room. 

It's dusty and dark, the only light is of lamps scattered around the musty room. Rows and piles of clothed paintings litter the room, this must be the storage room for the auction. 

The heels of my shoes echo through the room, and that's when I realize, where have you gone?

There's boxes on boxes scattered around the room, a perfect hiding place. As I make my way further into the room, something catches my eye. A cloth that's draped over a single painting, but a corner has been lazily tossed exposing a small portion of the painting. My curiosity gets the best of me as I peel the cloth away. 

My good god. This is it, the Marie Bronte painting, in all its glory. Shimmers of blue and teal decorate the painting of a bright white whale in the pit of a dark ocean. 

It's beautiful. 

To make sure it is a real Marie Bronte, I slide the painting to get a good look at the back, usually the artist writes her signature on the back as a claim to her work. Her bright cursive signature greets me, but something else is written above it….

I’m sinking in the deep end

If you hadn’t changed 

If I gave you one more chance

Can we go back again?

Now I’m truly all alone in this world 

I miss the way you felt so close to my bones

I’m sinking in the deep end 

Without you in my life 

Deep inside 

I’ve never felt alive

This must be a part of her game. She accompanies every piece of artwork she creates with something of value. It could be a piece of a poem, a child-like map, or something that could send a poor man into a rich one. But what could this mean, it's clearly a riddle, but a riddle to what, something more? Could this be her last painting? Could this lead to-

Click …The sound of a click stiffens my body. “Stand up and don’t move” Slowly I do as the voice says. I stand up without turning my body to the person behind me. “Put your hands up” wait… I know that voice. 

“Does this mean I get to talk to you more?” 

“Technically I caught you” My theory is proven right by her response. “Three steps to your right” 

I oblige without hesitation. I can hear the pads of her feet approach my back and I can feel the tip of the gun pressed against me. My heart thunders in my chest and my body stiffens like a rock. She wouldn’t shoot me…right?

“You're lucky I like you” The tip of the metal disappears from my back and my body slightly relaxes. 

“I guess my flirting paid off then?” I hear her snicker behind me. I take my chances and stretch my neck to look behind me. She’s there, standing before the painting as her golden dress shimmers in the dim light. 

She seems like she’s in perfect awe of the painting like a single paint stroke grasps her full attention. That is until she leans down to look behind the painting and studies the same riddle I read. 

“Damn it” she whispers. 

I quickly turn my head back, pretending I didn’t notice anything. “So what are you exactly? An intense collector?” 

“Is it smart to question the girl with the gun” She’s cocky and gorgeous…god she will be the death of me. 

“I haven't been known to be very smart” 

“I can see that, seeing that you followed me all the way here” She takes a pause and I can feel the heat of her body standing right behind me. “What do you want?”

Her question sets me off guard. What do I want? Now that I think about it, why did I follow her here? Was it just my curiosity about her? Or do I want something more?

“I- I don’t know” 

She laughs, a full belly laugh. I can just picture her body swinging around the room in a fit of laughter, while the gun hangs lazily in her hand. “You’re dumber than I thought”.

My head hangs low. She’s right. I willingly followed a girl I don’t know, knowing that she was up to no good, yet…. I love it. I love the excitement that courses through my body, I love the danger that I’m not used to feeling. 

“I suppose being dumb is better than being normal” 

She chuckles behind me “I suppose”  

Nows my chance.

“So, what are we doing?” 

“We? There is no we” I test my bravery, turning around slightly. I keep my hands up as I meet her eyes. 

The same gold shimmer gleams in the light and the same crystal eyes that will forever be in my dreams meet me. “Oh come on, I thought you said you liked me?” 

[hyuukais]

6. Buildup

warnings: none

word count: 1.0k

a/n: this isn’t the best but i was really struggling with it for some reason

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ ✿ㆍ ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The heavy bass thump and low lighting of the arena feel reminiscent of a club. You can already tell you’re not far off from a migraine, as strobe lights flash dramatically around the padded ring. Next to you, Jooyeon and Seungmin are both munching away on their pretzels, the former having successfully tracked you and Bea down through the crowds. Jeongin arrived not long after him, flocked by a pack of men you didn’t recognize and Beomgyu. They came with cups and snacks in hand, apparently having stopped at the concessions as well. You all were quickly introduced as they sat down. Vaguely familiar with their names, it was nice to pair them with faces.

Yeonjun, with his bloody hair, was the first to greet you—oozing with charisma. Soobin seemed a bit quieter but polite nonetheless, especially as he commented on enjoying Jooyeon’s content with a bright smile. All you could really discern about Hueningkai was that Jeongin was right for calling him hot unprompted. He ended up in the seat next to you, silently snacking on some popcorn. It looked and smelled buttery and amazing. The thought of something salty makes your mouth water, yet the expanding pit in your stomach grows nauseous at the thought of eating.

It was like a looming blackhole of dread was eating you from the inside-out; all morning plagued by a familiar despair. The same one that had been following you for the past week. Beyond the notion of meeting new people spiking your anxiety, it was this overwhelming yet indiscernible feeling; most similar to depressing amounts of self-loathing and anger. Thoughts of that stupid rejection had been eating you up all night; over some guy you only went on a single date with. How dumb you felt about caring so much only made the feeling worsen, a vicious cycle so to speak. Bea had been completely on the nose when she called out your tendency to overthink, but you certainly wouldn’t tell her that. Hopefully, a fun night with friends would pull your mind out of its pit; or you could at least pretend one of the guys getting punched is someone you hate and find some enjoyment there.

“Would-would you like some?”

“Wha-”

Your eyes come back into focus on Heuningkai holding his popcorn container towards you. Even in the dim light, you can see the flaring red bathing his ear and neck. Perhaps you were looking at it too long, lost in thought, and made him uncomfortable.

“Oh, I…” Your stomach stirs at the sight, caught between craving and disgust. It smells so delicious though. “Sure, thank you.” You take a small handful. Popping some in your mouth, the kernels melt into your tongue, warm and buttery, absolute heaven on an empty stomach. You can’t stop the soft moan that slips out at the taste.

“That good, huh?” Kai chuckles beside you, you just happily nod in response, savoring each bite. A smile grows along with the red on his cheeks. “Um—I…I actually wanted to say, I’m a really big fan.”

“Oh?” Suddenly, the odd looks and comments his friends had given him after you two were introduced come back with much more clarity. They had all spoken about Kai sitting next to you with this odd lilt you can now tell was teasing.

His hands wring in his lap, but he face betrays nothing but a smile. “Yeah, so is Taehyunie, though I’m the one that introduced him to your content. We both think your stuff is really fun and cool! Your commentary is really funny and personable. You have this kind of atmosphere that…I just, I wish I could create with my content, I guess.”

“Oh, thank you!” Happiness bubbles in your chest, spreading its heat up your neck with a grin. You received words like these everyday from hundreds across the internet, yet something in the way he spoke made you feel so giddy over the praise. “I-I actually checked out a lot of your guys’ stuff after Jeongin mentioned we’d be coming today, and I really really liked it! Um–I watched the vod of one of your music streams—oh my god! You’re so talented, it’s crazy!”

“Oh–haha–thank you!” His head dipped as a shy laugh took over his body.

“And, I mean, I was a little hesitant about coming here. I guess I just didn’t know what to expect, but watching some stuff of Taehyun’s matches was like–wow.”

“Ah, yeah, Taehyun’s really talented. He always gets me to help him practice, and sometimes, just watching what he can do with one punch gets a little scary. He’s tried to teach me so many times but…I’m not built for those sports.”

“Oh god, Jeongin has this specific workout regime that he’s tried to get the rest of us to join so many times. It’s like he's really just plotting to kill us or something—it’s genuinely crazy. I’m like 90% sure it’s just because he developed it by working out with Changbin, but like—just thinking about it makes me want to vomit.”

His laugh is deep and airy as you go on about your friend’s. You both continue to swap stories back and forth, easily falling into casual conversation. Connecting with strangers was never an easy feat for you, but Hueningkai made it seem so much simpler. You could’ve probably talked for hours if not for the booming voice of the announcer ringing out to signal the start of the fight.

Cheers fill up the audience as the introductions proceed with both men standing at opposite corners of the ring. Everything is so loud and intense, you miss most of what is said about Taehyun. It’s easy to spot him against his opponent's bright green hair. His hands are clad in red gloves which match his shorts. From your seats so close, it's easy to see the steely look in his eye, brows shadowing his cheeks. Tension is thick in the air, beneath the harsh white now spotlighting the ring, everything burns up. Your heartbeat builds in your ears with unease, your breath held tight until the final signal goes and the match finally begins.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ ✿ㆍ ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

WHAT YOU DESERVE

: ̗̀➛ Y/n is beloved by thousands on the internet, being a popular streamer. However, they’ve never been able to find nearly as much affection in their love life, despite searching for years. Just when they’re close to giving up on love all together, they suddenly find their romantic prospects on an upturn.

masterlist | prev | next

[ticholasnesla]

Nimona (2023), friends.

First of all thank u to the people who made these great gifs!!! This is presumptuous of me but i truly hope u dont mind me featuring them! This is the first of - hopefully many - years of my Media Gifventure for the Holiday Season of 2023. I will go into more details if i need. So.

🥺

man of the hour. Man of the Year. Gold Star. 🌟

Gif use Disclaimer, I hope me making this post with these gifs isnt overstepping 🙂‍↕️💛 people who upload gifs, which, 9/10 times, they made themselves, are one of the most supportive vertebrae communities of Tumblr. 🫡👏👏 bravo chudovyy splendid чудовий mykola please tell me what i should remove and i will remove.

Above all else, Thank u.

anyways here's3 something i hope is going to be fun. Last chance. Gif heavy, flash warning excessive emojis, stupid shite and a dog.

🐕 . . . 🤎

nimona beat my ass yall. It beat my family's ass yall.

That's a Ss²+Gold ranked film if ever i saw one. Congrats Neæs@tflix - Nimona, and congrats ND Stevenson.

Ss²+Gold means Soupsoup Squared PLUS Gold which MEANS

+4 of thees bad boys!!!!!!!!

Enjoy!

i stop talking about strictly Nimona Heere.

so with that all said and done...i was Thinking... part 2?

disclaimer pls read the 👎 RULES. Trans rights human rights. Protect trans kids. Pronouns for your Hostess this evening are she/he/they. this isnt a nft thing so dont talk to me about that. and im not writing free reviews or reading your book. I just wanna award movies and webtoons and webcomics without putting any real artistic effort in (except when i WANT to put real artistic effort in) and also feature some great indie/non indie stuff In a (hopefully) positive light 🔮 shit i might even do requests. Or sketches. Imagine. 🐙

PROCEED 👎to RULES and engage in critical thought and problem soliving before sending me asks.💢

That being said, keep it PG. All asks are good asks and i will develop an FAQ if need be!

Rules 👎 down dere keep scrolling and reading. Thx. But first

Do u wanna submit something to be considered for a Soup GoldTM? Submit your favourite,

Webcomic

Youtube channel

Trending topic

Webtoon

youtube series

Manga

Anime

Plot twists

Lesser known artists

Indie artists

Podcasts

Heartbreaks /no actual bummers pls.

Memes etc etceteree

that kept you warm this 2023! And for my immediate needs, Happened in 2023. For this thing, i will only accept submissions til new yrs day. Is that peechy?

👎👎Ok finally rules for real. Proceed to pig 🐷 for tldr

Keep it pg🦉

K.I.S.S - keep it simple, Saoirse🦆

Stay in your Lane 🫎🦍🐏🪿

Dont message strangers on the internet if you're under 18.🔴And if you do KEEP your age out of their inbox. 🪺🐣🐊

Adult media is fine but i want to keep it Prime Time 🦐🐚 🪸🪼🐠🚦🐬

66I know i might be typing like a fucking bunyak but i wanna have FUN and talk about FUN STUFF my past 3 years has been ROUGH, BAYBEE. I miss my parents, Tails. I miss them a lot. /not a joke.

💐🦋🕊🐝🦂🦈🐄🐓🦤🦀🦀🦅🪱🥀🦽🏥🏥🏥🏥🏥🏥🫀🌎☀️🌜🪐🌬🌪🌦🌈☔️🔥☃️🎅🏡🎆🪻🌷💐🫀🐦‍⬛🚜👨‍🌾💚🤟💒💊🌋🏞🎡🛝🚛🚚🛻🚲

I am but flesh n blood n bone.

Please keep in mind i will only do what i have the jnj marbles for, but i will dedicate a lot of my downtime to this and i really want to have a good experience so um if u know a friend, or maybe want to tag cool accounts to maybe look over here yoo hoo hi there hello and do u wannaaa 🐕🐕🐕

Click that rebwog pwease 🥺 pppwease. Ding that like button smash that like button Uw0

This only works on Good Will so dont Play with my heart. We want to have fun.

I do have a DO NOT PASS GO list in my head but i wont reveal whats on it til i come across it ya? 🦩

Thank y for reading the rules. Now.

Me vs you the reader

Proceed to pig for tldr🐷

The Soup Golds and other Soups utilize a vector of Grandma's Soup from Lengend of Zelda Wind Waker that i edited with my phone. I do not claim to own this graphic and am just fucking around.

Submissions that dont pass my sneefing test are welcome and valuable! Incoming bee gif:

🐝

love rubbin my dusty little fingers in new Things and readings. So they will be rewarded either with Unseen, Uninterested, or Unwatchable badges, and might be featured as (dis)/honorable mentions! More nuance on that if the need arises. 🦄🔮👀

🐷Asks are open / pending! Feel free to Lurk/ask questions. Dont be rude or ELSE..u get The PIG 🐷🐷

✋️HYYYYYY

🤘🪑YAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!🐖🐖🐖🐖💨💨💨💨💨💨💨💥⚰️🪦🐽🍄

.. and then the Anon is going off. i dont want to have to do that. 🫠

🐗Let's keep it Frosty🐗

🐖💨💨💨💨Inbox closes Boxing Day! Get ur submissions in Today and get some fun ?

Write a letter and leave me a cookie pls. Im not asking for money i just wanna spend some quality time with u as we ____ 2024.

Here is the dog btw and she's a rottweiler mix.. She's sitting on my foots here and has curly furs all a on her butt. She was a foster fail and is living her best cushy life last i heard about her. I wanna see her again. 🖤🤎🧡🖤🤎🧡

The end. Play Sims 4 but try not to spend money on it. EA's starting to offer free packs that u can download for Free. Console and PC as far as i understand.

Love u. Be back soon.

[kyukicho]

@deathfavor asked:

Kazutora's enthusiasm should be far from surprising when it comes to holidays. At least, ever since he was eleven that is. So he's quick to pounce the moment Baji is free, a bright smile on his face whole he holds something behind his back.

"Kei! Happy Valentine's day." He smiles before pulling out the bag from behind his back. Inside are chocolates shaped into little wolves and tigers. "I promise, I didn't make them - just melted and reshaped them because I don't know how to make chocolate. But hey, at least you won't get sick. " He laughs. "You're not busy, right? I thought maybe we could do an escape room or one of those boat rides people always talk about. Or both, if you want to." Maybe he or they should've coordinated better on this. It's not like Kazutora expected anything, it was just Kazutora being Kazutora and putting a lot of effort into it, because he always does for the holidays.

He shifts his feet, a telltale sign there's something else he hasn't quite gotten to. " There's one more thing..." Kazutora pauses before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sealed letter, offering it over with a slightly flushed face (which he will deny). "I know we don't need to write letters anymore since I'm out and all but..." He trails off for a brief moment. " I still liked doing it. So here. But no reading it till you're alone or I'm asleep, okay? Part of the fun of letters." He adds with a grin.

"Aye! Tora!" He greets happily. Kazutora's enthusiasm instantly spreading to him infectiously. Baji didn't follow the holidays too closely, but he always had his boyfriend to remind him of the fun ones.

Little bag accepted Baji eyes the cute chocolate critters and laughs. "These are sweet!" No pun intended. "It's like little chocolate us!" Always embracing the connection between tigers and wolves for the two of them. His love of animals aside, it was an awesome thing to be compared to.

"Whoa, those escape rooms with the puzzles n shit? That would be amazing!" Hopefully the two of them could control themselves enough not to brute force the puzzles and destroy the room itself... "Boats sound cool too. They have those ones shaped like animals!" He's always wanted to ride the giant swan. "Lets see if we have time for both!"

Baji sets the bag down to curiously look at the other boy now. Watching him fidget with something. A softer smile spreading across his cheeks at the reveal of the letter. It's nostalgic in a way. And a really sweet gesture. Baji nods and accepts the sealed envelop, moving and tucking it up under his pillow on the bed. "Not till tonight." He agrees, coming back over to wrap an arm around Kazutora and plant a smooch on his cheek. "Aight, let's get moving if we're gonna get everything in!"

[multiverseofimagines]

Hi Gwen! Can I have a Stranger things ship?

First of all, I'm sorry for any grammar errors, bc English isn't even my second language 🤣

I always was "that one weirdo"

I identify myself as pan/demisexual and agender.

INTP, but I'm far from the stereotype. I'm nerd without social life for sure, but that's all.

I'm history student and artist. I can't paint too often, because I have no free time bc of the uni, but I love when my hands smell with oil paint, and how blank canvas slowly turning into something beautiful. I love thrift hunt. Most of the things in my place are really old, and probably hunted. It's difficult to find a free space in my room, because it's all occupied by plants, books, pet's supplies, and tonnes of vintage stuff. I would describe my style as mostly whimsygothic.

I'm 167cm tall, skinny, with long spaghetti limbs. I'm pale as frozen chicken, with many moles. I have messy dark auburn hair and big amber protruding eyes. One of the most noticeable things on my face, it's a big greek nose with small round glasses on it.

I mostly listen rock in different subgenres. I also love folk music.

My favourite movies are Orlando (1992) and The Wicker man (1973)

That's probably all

Thank you, and have a nice day ~~~

Of course! Here you go lovely ~

I ship you with…

Tell me you guys aren’t soulmates I DARE YOU.

Similar vibes all across the board, both intp’s, both of you are a little androgynous + queer and you both are very introverted people.

Thrifting dates 😭 going into the city and going to all the consignment stores and hunting for cool vintage stuff.

PAINTING HER !! Always painting her or things for her that she likes. She’s your muse. You don’t show her cause you’re terrified she will hate them but one day you leave your multimedia sketchbook on the table to go to the washroom and she’s nosy as fuck obviously and opens it to see herself in different variants of smudged oil.

Y’all fighting vecna together !! Literally would be so badass I can’t. You guys both nod at one another before the battle, both scared to lose one another but determined.

Coming out to each-other before you started dating. I feel like you would come out first, you would be so anxious and literally shaking at the thought of telling her and she just goes “ no way ! “ and at first you feel defeated like she is just gonna make fun of it, and your kind of like “ yeah- I knew you wouldn’t get it.” And she just goes “ wait what??? no- that’s not what I meant at all.” You sigh still a bit disappointed, but she looks at you with a much more serious look, and says “ have you seen me y/n?? Is it not obvious that I’m like- super gay?”

Heres a little moodboard, some pics that give me robin vibes and the outfits I can imagine you wearing based off your aesthetic. I did accidentally pick mostly fem options, I’m so sorry, I know you described yourself as agender, so hopefully this still suffices, I’m so sorry! And I picked the middle outfit in case your into a more “goth” whimsigoth. 💖 enjoy xo gwen

[kyupidos]

01/29/24’s delivery 🏹✉️ twisted wonderland

*leans on expensive car* lol heyヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ,ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ ;; summary. ‘they really just want to romance you, really really—but by the sevens is it difficult.’

characters. heartslabyul , diasomnia : ace trappola , sebek zigvolt ( separate ) ;; romantic . 🖇️ tags. reader is gender neutral ( you/your ), reader is yuu, pre-relationship, romantic fluff

📡 _a/n. i think that the first years trying to impress the reader bc they’re crushing on them but just failing miserably while the reader is mayy or may not aware of it all is just like really funny to me;, so like here ^-^!!.! ( i could only do these two because it was getting long enough..others will come soon hopefully..i mean can you believe i started writing this at the beginning of the month?? god the writers block is really getting to me 😭 )

a. trappola

— the time..the time had come. ace had finally pulled himself together, clenching his fist dramatically in a matter that had deuce sighing in second hand embarrassment. ace, had finally decided to admit to himself that he liked you. maybe it did take him a week or two of trying to ignore the way his heartbeat quickened when you were around and the way he, for some reason ( in air quotes, says the rest of the first years ), felt flustered whenever you complimented him in some way, like when you call him cool as you watch him from the sidelines during basketball practice. ( floyd absolutely makes fun of him for it btw. )

— seriously, he thought he was over with relationships ever since his girlfriend from middle school, yet here he is daydreaming about you during his classes. for just a split second he considers asking azul for a contract to get a date with you, but then he remembers the last time he signed a contract with him, and cringes at the idea of you scolding him again for it—wouldn’t do good for his pride. guess he’ll have to suck it up and do it, in the name of getting to call you his super cool amazing fantastic lover. at least he has the experience, right? albeit he did end up ghosting her, but he thinks he had his own reasons—and even so, he wouldn’t do that to you, his feelings for you far surpass his feelings from that middle school relationship.

— maybe he was putting less effort into that middle school relationship than he originally thought. but nay, he must put in the effort into this for you, or else you may never call him cool during basketball practice again! so sevens forgive him for being so cringely romantical with you. aka he started teasing you more often and being more clingy ( and asking for homework answers more often since he spent all that class time thinking about you ). but unfortunately for him he is not aware that you are aware!! so he’s flustered once more when you start teasing him back and asking if he likes you.

— he firmly denies it while trying to teasingly ask you why you ask and if you yourself are into him, but in the end he just can’t do it and tries, and fails, to change the subject, but you just go with it to not embarrass him further. okay, so. maybe he should be ‘cringe’ with his romantic pursuits again.. if only to have reason to be able to have his gaze on you and not berate himself internally for being a dork, to hold your hand knowing it’s because your lovers, and to give you kisses with you reciprocating..

— dang it, he can only hope you’ll accept his feelings by the end of it.

— ( little does he know you’re already planning several dates and a confession of your own in case he can’t get it across. tell him to ignore the way the other heartslabyul members make fun and tease him now and then, and how trey seems to be baking treats for an occasion he’s not aware is to happen sooner or later. )

s. zigvolt

— plan ‘ignore the more-than-friends feelings he had for you’ failed. now sebek can’t help but be overdramatic about it, considering it disservice to his servitude to malleus. then he remembers the fae prince’s casual remark about his pleasantry in regards to his friendship ( sebek would rather it being something more, ) with you, and he thinks to himself. he recalls what he first thought of you, a mere weak human who he believed had practically insulted malleus’s bloodline when you referred to him as ‘tsunotarou’. he’s honestly astounded by how much his feelings for you have developed over time.

— he’s unconsciously starting to memorize these little things about you, how your expression changes even slightly when faced when certain scenarios, how you’re always so willing to listen to his ramblings of malleus’s accomplishments and other things like how prideful he is of his duties as a knight, and commentary on books he’s read. you’ve even started to pick up some of said books, listening to his recommendations intently. he seriously can’t help it as it fills his heart with pride to know you take those words of his to heart, and he can’t help but feel giddy every time he remembers that you actually listen.

— slowly, you may notice how he starts to flex his good qualities even more so than usual. consistently noting his more than exceptional abilities as a knight and in academics, still reveling in the way you’re so interested in his words and even indulge by giving your own commentary every now and then. in fact, he even starts to refer to you less as a ‘mere human’. you can recall a few times he slips a little and even compliments you, saying things like ‘dear human’ and the like, but those are few and far between, so it’s best to just appreciate when he refers to you simply by your name instead.

— of course that doesn’t mean you ignore it—you don’t particularly point out what he says, for you’re sure he’ll become embarrassed and do it less often, and you find it quite cute so you’d much rather that not be the case. instead, you reciprocate and compliment him in return, which no doubt leaves him especially flustered by what you say. he puts in the effort to determine how to court you, writing to his parents to ask them for advice on the subject. he does manage to pull through, but he’ll always end up the one with pinkened cheeks by the end of it.

— after all, how was he to know that behind the scenes, you were asking the rest of the diasomnia crew for advice in courting him? he’ll never get why they seem to giggle when he brings you up, and tease him for sevens knows why.

— ( unless you bring it up to him when either one of you finally confesses; then he becomes embarrassed yet again ( unlikely to be the last time it’ll happen—he’s quite easy to fluster, i’d say ). )

[lykaonimagines]

Moonlight Freedom - Stephen Strange x Reader (NSFW)

I’ve had this one sitting for awhile, writing any smut is by far not what I’m best at, but I had fun with it 🙃

Paring: Stephen Strange x F!Reader (Mutant w/ water manipulation powers, not relevant for most of it)

Word Count: 1,716

Description: After being unable to sleep on their beach house vacation, Stephen finds himself enjoying the night view of the beach... and Y/N shows him how much she enjoys the view she woke up to.

Song/lyrics mentioned are from “(I Just) Died In Your Arms” by Cutting Crew.

Other Things: Fluff with some smut. Married couple.

Warnings: NSFW. Partially Smut. 18+ Content. (M handjob). Nothing that wild honestly. Some swearing. (Please don’t read this one if you’re under 18.)

(I spent far too much time really wanting to use a clip of Stephen/Ben, and finally did... and then went with a silhouette shot where you can’t even tell it’s him 🙃 oh well. Clip originally from “Actor Cumberbatch Benedict at Mykonos Grand Hotel A” on Youtube.)

Laying in the small beach house bed, Stephen finds himself on his side facing his sleeping wife, sleep evading him.

The sheets pooled around her waist, skin still shining from their love making, and his love bites decorate the skin along her neck and shoulder.

Reaching one hand out he runs his fingers through her hair to move it from her face, smiling as she snuggles into his palm subconsciously.

Rolling away from her, he carefully climbs out of the bed and walks to the sliding door facing the ocean.

Pulling the door open and stepping onto the back porch, he closes his eyes to take in the sounds and smells of the ocean.

Reaching his hands into the air, his fingertips just graze the bottom of the awning as he leisurely stretches every muscle of his typically tense body with a satisfied groan in the cool sea breeze.

Freedom.

Full freedom.

The empty night sky spanning over ocean for as far as he can see, not a soul on the beach. No missions. No paperwork. No training. No clothes. No messages. No responsibilities. No rules. No obligations.

The sound of music pulls him back from his thoughts, a pair of arms wrapping around his midsection before he can turn to look.

“This was a nice sight to wake up to,” Y/N mumbles as she presses slow, deliberate kisses up his spine, sending a shiver up in their wake.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm, this nude beautiful almost ethereal looking man standing outside the doorway basking in the moonlight in all his glory,” she hums as her fingertips trace the muscles they find.

He chuckles at that and relaxes into her embrace, his ears pricking at words he hears her mumbling into his back, “Hmm?”

“Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight,” she repeats, and he can feel her smile against the skin on his back.

“Cutting Crew,” he states as he focuses on the music coming from behind him. “Are you suggesting something dear?”

“La petite mort,” she responds, her nails gently scrapping across his stomach. “A little death. As someone one that’s experienced multiple deaths, hopefully that kind is preferable.”

With a raise of his eyebrow, he laughs darkly, listening quietly to the song as her hand strays down his bare thigh, “Would you like to give me a demonstration wife of mine?”

“I’d love to,” she whispers as she lightly nips at the skin on his back and digs her nails into his thighs.

Her fingertips brush across his hip bone and pelvis then slowly down his shaft before reaching her destination.

Her finger runs slowly over the tip, collecting the pre-cum there and swirling it around the head agonizingly slow.

A hiss escapes him, and he lets his head fall back and his eyes drift shut at the sensation, “Going to torture me tonight huh?”

“Impatient boy,” she teases. “I could just stop if you’d rather?”

“I’ll be good,” he growls as she chuckles behind him, drifting her fingers up his hardening length.

Wrapping her hand around his shaft, Y/N starts leisurely stroking him as his hips slowly buck in rhythm with her hand.

Her free hand continues to explore his front, tracing around his abdominal muscles before trailing up toward his chest.

A short gasp leaves his mouth as her fingers stroke a deliberate circle on the nipple she reaches.

Increasing the speed of her hand on his shaft, she falls into a steady rhythm with the song that his hips quickly meet up with.

With each pull down, his hips send her wrist back up and her thumb brushes the lightest of touches on the underside of the head.

She can feel him building up, an almost silent pant leaves his mouth and his hips fall out of tempo with the music.

Her hand on his chest drifts up to his mouth, tapping his bottom lip with a fingertip, “Help me out baby?”

His mouth opens compliantly and he lazily swirls his tongue around the fingers she slips into his mouth.

Pulling her hand back, she quickly drops it down to interlock her fingers with her opposite hand and increases her speed.

“Fuck…” he betters as he leans back, his own hands desperately grabbing for her thighs behind him.

Pushing herself further into his back, she runs slow open-mouthed kisses up his spine, “You should watch, you’re missing the show with your eyes closed.”

Finally cracking his eyes open, he glances down at her hands fast at work on his shaft and groans, “Just like that sweetheart.”

Feeling his body start to tremble against her own, she grips a bit tighter and sucks sharply on the skin on his shoulder blade.

“Fuck!” He curses as his eyes squeeze shut and he loses himself in his finish. His eyes drifting back open as he comes down from his high, he glances down at her hands still loosely on him, coated in his cum and her wedding band gleaming in the moonlight.

Pulling her hands back, Y/N takes a step away from the sorcerer as he grabs onto the door frame next to them. Turning towards Y/N, he gives her a tired chuckle as she sucks her fingers clean with a wink.

“Well this is definitely something not possible in the city,” he muses, grabbing ahold of her waist and pulling her into his body.

“Scandal of the millennia,” Y/N laughs, resting her cheek against his chest and lazily draping her arms around his waist. “The famous hero Doctor Strange caught being debauched in public!”

“Let’s enjoy the peace and anonymity while it lasts,” he responds, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Mhm,” she mumbles against him then looks up into his eyes. “Want to skinny dip before getting back to bed?”

His brows rise and he threads his fingers through her hair, “You are very determined to make me experience everything you can possibly think of aren’t you?”

Y/N shrugs, “I just want to you to have a good time and relax. It’s one of the rare moments where we can just make happy memories doing something fun. No fate of the city or universe hanging over our heads. For a few days it’s just about you and me, making memories worth remembering when the shit hits the fan again. We spend so much time protecting everyone and everything… but these moments with you are what makes it worth continuing to do that.”

Staring down into her eyes, Stephen’s mouth opens and closes several times, her words swirling around in his mind. Swallowing hard he hugs her tightly against his chest, “Every moment with you is worth remembering. You’re my world.”

Y/N gently strokes his back in response, “I love you Stephen. And our life together. I wouldn’t trade it for the anything.”

“I love you too, more than I’ll ever be able to say.” Swaying together in the breeze to the rhythm of the new song coming from inside the house, he eventually leans back to grin down at her. “So what was that about skinny dipping?”

Y/N returns his grins and slides her hands down his back to grip his butt, “That I’ll take every opportunity available to see you wet and naked love.”

“Then you won’t mind if I just…” he trails off with a mischievous look in his eyes, suddenly scooping her up and over his shoulder.

“Stephen!” She shrieks as she clings to him and he bounds down the steps of the beach house, headed toward the ocean.

Trudging into the water, he pries her from his form and tosses her into the water with a loud splash, laughing as she resurfaces and splashes at him angrily.

“Oh you’ve started a war Doctor Strange,” she hisses, the trace of a smile on her lips as magic glows at her fingertips as a mini cyclone of water raises beside her. “And this time, we’re in my element.”

“Perhaps I acted too rashly?” he offers before getting blasted in the face and thrown under the water. Scrambling back to the surface spitting out the seawater, he holds his hands up in surrender.

Chuckling at her husband, Y/N closes the distance between them and reaches up to push the wet hair from his face before wrapping her arms around his neck, “Smart man.”

“Smart after realizing I started something in the water with someone that controls water,” he grumbles but presses his forehead to hers.

“Hmm… what about this?” She asks as a fountain of water erupts beside them, raining droplets down onto them.

“Rain?” he asks with a raised brow.

“Supposed to be romantic,” she muses and buries his fingers in the wet hair on the back of his head. “Kissing in the rain and all that.”

“Kissing in the rain, in the ocean, in the moonlight,” he teases, brushing his lips against hers.

“And you looking extra handsome, when the moonlight hits your eyes they just light up in the best way. Like the most beautiful oceans in the open sea.”

Turning his face away as a blush works its way across his cheeks he mumbles, “You can’t just hit me out of nowhere with something like that.”

“Oh? I can’t find my husband irresistibly handsome?” she laughs and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“No, I’m thankful for that,” he says with a smile turning back to her. “My little water goddess is seducing me at every turn today.”

“One compliment has you seduced now Stephen?” she teases before lightly tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth.

“Completely coming undone beneath me earlier, compliments, handjobs in the doorway, running around naked and looking stunning,” he lists as he slides his hands down to squeeze her butt. “I’m starting to think you don’t want me to get dressed Mrs. Strange.”

“Guilty as charged,” she winks and presses a hungry kiss to his lips. “And I’m thinking it’s about time you take me back to bed for round two.”

“Gladly,” he grins, pulling her up into his arms. Trudging toward the shore he takes off into a sprint toward the house with their combined laughter getting lost in the warm sea breeze.

----

If you’re normally on my taglist but left off this one, it’s probably because you were added before I made the Google form asking if you were ok with NSFW. If you were left off and are ok with NSFW stuff/18+, just let me know and I’ll put you on that list :) I’m not going to write it a whole lot, but it might pop up on occasion. (If I did tag you and you don’t want to be tagged in NSFW content, also let me know!)

Stephen Taglist (Main Stephen/NSFW Edition): @stephenstrangeaddictions​ @ironstrange1991​ @stanny-uwu​ @ohchoices​ @sparky22122 @typical-bistander​ @asgardianprincess1050​ @pop-rocks-and-skittles​ @namethathasnotbeentaken​ @peachywoong​  @valeriegreyy​ @floralover1​ @cumberbitch​ @lightmeuplivly​ @lucimorningst4r​ @bluebear142077​ @strangeobsessed​  @bymoonlightfics​ @strangeions​ @sherlux​ @qhbr2013​ @lovingly-unlovingme @thelaststraw3​ @Benedictcumberbitch @vereon​  @veryladyqueen​ @ultrasilentwhispers​ @cemak​ @azu21​ @clockblobber​ @ben-er-ino​ @alaina-b​ @guyfieriii @classickook​ @mochuchi​ @rbymoon​ @wanderingfairy73​ @secretsthathauntus​ 

There’s a link to a Google form to fill out if you’d like to be tagged, on my pinned Channel Navigation post and on my Masterlist! Makes sure I don’t miss your comment, and lets you opt out of certain things if you’d like :)

If I’ve tagged you in something you didn’t want to be tagged in (certain variant, a warning you aren’t comfortable with, etc) just message me and I’ll make a note on my sheet to make sure you aren’t tagged in anything like that again.

[loveisonaroll]

Things That Are Worth It

Things That Are Worth It

Jake x reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: little angsty; fluffy; talks of abortion; pregnancy (both forced and intentional); adoption; struggling teen moms

Summary: You and Jake tell your oldest child the story of their welcoming. 

A/N: I wrote this before the SCOTUS Roe v. Wade reversal. Although this decision was on my radar and we knew it was coming, I like many others still felt a little blindsided. If you need a safe person to confide in, please reach out to me, and if you need help finding abortion resources, please let me know. I can help research and connect you to the right people. 

Also, a quick disclaimer – I may have graduated law school and will (hopefully) be a practicing attorney in a few months, but I do not know how adoption/CPS/child custody cases work. Those are niche practice areas that have different rules in every jurisdiction, and so the “legal” pieces of this fic are purely fictional. 

------

You knew this moment would eventually come, and you had truthfully thought it would have come years before now. However, neither you nor Jake had imagined that she would have read it in a magazine. 

“How could you not tell me?!” your fourteen-year-old daughter exclaimed loudly, throwing her hands in the air. “All this time and you’re not even my real parents. I knew I didn’t look like either of you.”

“Baby, we are your parents. Just because Momma didn’t carry you for nine months doesn’t mean you aren’t ours,” Jake reasoned, grasping your shaking hand in one hand and fisting the magazine in his other.

“I feel like my entire life is a lie!” Vivy stormed out of the dining room, slamming her bedroom door at the top of the staircase. 

You looked over at Jake whose eyes looked almost as watery as your own. “We’ve talked about how we were going to do this so many times, but it’s so much more difficult than I thought.”

“I know, honey. I just wish we had been able to have control of it.” Jake looked away from you towards the rolled-up magazine. He had been voted Guitarist of the Year for the umpteenth time, and the new author jumped at the opportunity to write about your family at the smallest mention of Jake’s inspiration. “I mean, seriously. ‘Jake’s family is a heavy inspiration for his and Greta Van Fleet’s music. His wife, Y/N, and their three children, Genevieve, June, and Wiley, are his biggest muses.’ That’s where they should have stopped, but no. God, I wish I knew who this ‘source’ is.”

You looked down at the rest of the article. 

Jake’s family had quite the unusual start. Rumors started to swirl around Jake and his wife when a very pregnant Y/N was spotted with a very small baby towards the end of 2022. According to a source close to the pair, the couple adopted their oldest in 2022, and by June of 2023, the two had two children under 12 months old. 

You leaned over and pressed your forehead into Jake’s shoulder, letting some tears flow. “This isn’t how I wanted this to go. What are we going to do, Jake?”

Jake’s hand came across his body to stroke your hair. “I’m not sure, baby. I think we should give her a couple minutes to cool off and then we go talk to her.”

“I guess you’re right,” you sighed. 

Tonight was supposed to be a fun evening for you and Jake. The kids were to stay at Josh’s house for a sleepover, and you and Jake had plans to surprise your girls the next afternoon with their own separate bedrooms. At first, it was just easy to have the two babies in one room to avoid jumping from room to room throughout the night. Then, the girls grew to be the best of friends, and it broke your heart to even think about separating them. As soon as the girls became teenagers, however, they seemed to become slightly claustrophobic when it came to each other. You tried to ignore it, because watching your two baby girls grow into their own persons independent of each other was difficult to bear, but Jake was a realist. He convinced you once night while getting ready for bed that this could be a good thing, to have the girls become more independent. Plus, he reasoned, they each deserved to have a space they could call their own. Over the last couple of months, the two of you ordered new queen beds and other bedroom furniture that fit each of their personalities better than the matching accessories they had grown up with. Tonight was supposed to be the night the two of you would share a bottle of wine—and maybe a kiss or two—and put all of your girls’ rooms together in anticipation of surprising them the next day. 

You rubbed at your eyes as you stood from the breakfast nook and opened the dishwasher to put some dishes away. Junie and Wiley were already at Josh’s, but Vivy had had volleyball practice before she could be dropped off. When she rushed to Jake’s car afterwards with the magazine rolled up in her fist and a look of indignation across her face, you knew she wasn’t going to be making it to Josh’s for movie night. Her look of betrayal burned into your brain.

“Y/N, you can leave those for Wiley to put away tomorrow, it’s his day.” Jake pressed his front to your back, wrapping himself around you while you reach up to place a bowl on it assigned shelf. 

You sighed and continued reaching into the dishwasher to put more dishes away. “I need something to do, and they will start to smell like mildew if we leave them in here. Plus, I think it’s safe to say chores won’t be high on the list of priorities tomorrow.”

Jake gently took the mug out of your hands and placed it on the counter while pulling you closer to his chest. He placed a soft kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder blade and intertwined both of your hands. 

“Baby, we’re gonna get through this, you and me and our three,” he chuckled into your neck at his little rhyme. “Do you remember what you told me the morning after the night she came?”

You choked out a watery laugh and closed your eyes at the memory, nodding your head as you rested it backwards on his shoulder. Of course you remembered; ever since you had let the phrase leave your lips he had quoted them back to you and told all your friends and family the story of the snide remark you had made. 

“I think it was something like ‘if you wanted easy you shouldn’t have married me.’”

“That has always been my favorite part to tell, I had never seen you so fiery. It was the first time I had a glimpse of what you are like in the courtroom,” Jake laughed again. “But that’s only the first part. You said ‘of course it’s not going to be easy, but things that are worth it never are.’” 

You thought back fondly of that weekend. It wasn’t even when she became yours, but it was the weekend you and Jake had fallen in love with her. It had been a chaotic and difficult few days, but retrospect is always sweeter.

14 years earlier…

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” you chanted as you struggled to place your files into your work bag while you exited the firm. A last-minute meeting with your firm’s top paying client had kept you an hour past the end of your usual Friday. Although this was not usually a big deal, your in-laws were set to have arrived two hours ago and you knew your house was already swarming with Kiszkas and close friends. You had promised Jake that you would make it home in time, and the meeting and your phone dying in the middle of it had you in a panic. 

“Hey baby, are you leaving the office?” Jake answered your call as you exited the parking lot. 

“Jake, I am so sorry. I know I promised I would be home an hour ago, but we had a last-minute meeting with our biggest client and my phone died halfway through so I couldn’t text you. Is everyone there already?” 

“It’s okay. I checked your location when you hadn’t called and saw you were at the office still, so I figured something important had come up. Mom, Dad and Ronnie got in a little early, but the guys just showed up about thirty minutes ago. No need to rush, just get home safe,” he assured. “We’ve just been visiting and I’m about to fire up the grill. You’ll be just in time.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll be there soon. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

. . . 

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you explain, walking through the sliding glass door onto the patio where your husband’s family and a few of your friends were situated. You planted a sweet kiss on Jake standing by the grill and made your way around the group to greet properly. 

“It’s okay, dear, Jake told us you were called into a meeting. Where attorney duties call, boss babe attorneys answer!” You laughed at Karen’s words as you placed a kiss on her and Kelly’s cheeks. You had always loved the Kiszkas, and Karen had become like a second mother to you. You were sometimes amazed at the amount of pride and support they had left for you after how much they uplifted their hoard of children. 

“Yeah, it was last minute. Hopefully it calmed some storms for the near future, at least. How was y’all’s trip?”

. . . 

You caught up with the group briefly before it was time to eat, and your party moved indoors to the dining room for some more chatting over food. You were finally unwinding from your treacherous day, and Jake’s thumb rubbing patterns on the top of your thigh as his hand rested there helped soothe you even more. 

“Then, we went to this vineyard in France and it’s very interesting how they grow their grapes…” Josh raved on charismatically, speaking with his hands as he recalled the band’s most recent tour in Europe. You smiled as you remembered the warm French breeze wisping through your hair as your mind buzzed slightly from the amount of wine you had “sampled.” You remember watching Jake, his lips and teeth tinged a slight purple, listening intently to your tour guide, and the way his skin shimmered in the golden sunset light against his white linen suit.  You remember falling more in love with him in that instant 

A chime coming from both your and Jake’s phones simultaneously pulled you out of your memory, your Ring doorbell signaling movement had been detected outside your front door. You both looked over at each other with furrowed brows, but when Jake shrugged and resumed listening to Josh’s recount of European life, you let it go, too. Sometimes, a stray dog would throw off the doorbell, and everyone who could show up unannounced was already in your home, so it seemed of little consequence. However, a short moment later, the chime came again. And then again.

“Did you order something?” Jake leaned over to ask you in a soft tone, not wanting to disrupt the flowing conversation between his family and friends.

“I ordered those shoes I showed you at lunch today, but there’s no way they would be here already. And it’s 7:30 on a Friday night—I don’t think there would be any deliveries being made at this time,” you whispered back, brows furrowed once again in confusion. 

Jake pulled his phone out of his pocket and you watched as he clicked on the notification to open the Ring app. You expected to see a stray or two playing around the front of your home, but you did not expect what was transpiring on your front porch. 

At the top of the stairs, was a pile of items seemingly purposed for babies. Boxes of diapers, cans of formula, what looked like a diaper bag, and a few other bags that you could not see the contents of were stacked neatly against the railing of the porch. The most shocking part of the scene, however, was that a young woman was again opening the iron gate at the front of your yard and weaving a car seat through. 

Your heart raced as you shared a wide-eyed look with Jake, and you jumped up from your seat to make it through the house to the front door. Josh’s story cut off, and you could feel the eyes of your company on your back, watching you with Jake hot on your heels make your way to the front of your home.  You knew what was happening, it wasn’t hard to deduce the decision the woman had made, and the advocate in you kicked right in.

You turned towards Jake with your hand on the door handle, jerking your head to the side to tell him to back off. You knew this was going to be a delicate situation, and despite your surprise and the questions you had, you wanted the woman to feel safe to tell you. You opened the door just as the woman had reached the halfway point of the walkway to the porch. She stilled immediately, and you could see the inner conflict she was having shift across her face. Should she run? Should she drop the baby here now that she had been caught? Should she continue on to the porch to leave the child where she had initially planned to? 

You stepped out of the house, closing the door behind you and tried to give the woman the most reassuring smile you could muster. Now that you had a closer look at her, you could tell she was very young, maybe freshly eighteen. She looked at you quizzically and then back down to the sleeping baby she had in the car seat. It was clear she still hadn’t made up her mind of what to do.

“Hi,” you said simply, taking a seat on the porch swing facing the front lawn. You wanted to start gently, hoping to encourage the girl to speak with you. This one little word seemed to jump start her mind. 

“Oh my god. Mrs. Kiszka, right? Y/N? I’m sorry I just—I don’t know what to—I saw you on your website and—” she blabbered on, taking rushed steps to the porch and settling the car seat at the top of the steps. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, and she roughly wiped them away as they came.

“Hey, slow down! It’s okay, just take a deep breath and have a seat if you’d like. I’m assuming you found me through my law firm?” 

The girl nodded her head and wrung her hands together as she looked away from you. “I’m so sorry, I just can’t…your card fell out of someone’s pocket at the hospital, and I looked you up and I followed you here from your office.”

You looked towards the car seat to find what looked like a newborn who couldn’t have been more than a week old. “Okay. While you were at the hospital having baby…?” You looked up at the girl quizzically.

“Genevieve. Her name is Genevieve. Yes, on Monday.” She looked down at the sleeping baby, and more tears started to flow. “I just can’t,” she repeated, her breathing picking up again.

“That’s okay, that’s perfectly okay,” you tried to soothe. “Do you want to sit here with me for a moment? I can get you a bottle of water or something?”

She looked at you warily still, chewing on her bottom lip and pulling at the ends of her hair. 

“You’re not in trouble, and I’m not going to report you for anything. I just want to help,” you offered, hoping she would trust you. 

She sighed and sat on the top step with her back pushed against the pilar facing you slightly. She pulled her knees to her chest and pushed her face into them as she wrapped her arms around herself. You could see this situation was eating her up inside, and you held back tears yourself. As she sat, she also spoke. You learned that her name was Amelia, that she had just turned eighteen the week before, and that she had no one. She had gotten pregnant by some older guy who had only been in town a few weeks before the wind plucked him up again. She hadn’t known his real name, and any source of contact with him had led to dead ends. Abortion hadn’t been obtainable for her, and she had talked herself out of every attempt to speak with someone about adoption. She had gone through so many conflicting thoughts, thinking of keeping the baby and then realizing she couldn’t take care of her. The ultimate decision maker, she said, was when she got the acceptance letter to a university in the next state over with the opportunity to start her life over. She knew that she couldn’t go to school and raise the baby properly at the same time, and that if she stayed here she would just continue the cycle of abuse and desperation that would lead to her baby becoming just like her. When she saw your card, she looked you up and felt like you were the right person to leave her baby with. She had staked out your office since she had been released from the hospital, and today she finally drew up the courage to do what she had set out to do. She knew you would either love and cherish her daughter as your own or find someone who would.

“I will do everything I can to make sure she is safe and in a loving home, thank you for trusting me with her. But can I ask you why you thought I would be a safe bet for her? I can tell you care,” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“I do care, and it scares me that people will think I just abandoned her or threw her out like nothing,” she commented. “I just saw that you are really successful and you seem happy. And then I saw your husband bring you lunch the other day, and it made me think about all the times I wish I had grown up with two parents who loved each other and loved me. I don’t know, it just felt right. I want her to have the life that I never had.”

I nodded along with her. You heard the front door behind you open, and Amelia jumped. Jake emerged from your home with two bottles of water and a plate of cheese, fruit and crackers. He immediately paused as he noticed Amelia’s apprehension, but you just nodded.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I just wondered if you were hungry or thirsty or anything,” he trailed off softly, taking a small step forward and holding out the water bottle. Amelia gave him a tight-lipped smile and took the bottle of water, opening it to take a small sip. 

“Amelia, this is my husband Jake,” you spoke out, accepting your own bottle of water he extended to you. “And Jake, this is Amelia.”

“Nice to meet you, Amelia. And who have we got here?” Jake questioned as the baby started to fuss. Amelia looked at the baby with wide eyes and then up to you quickly. It was obvious that even though she had spent a good three days with the baby, she was not prepared to be its caretaker. Jake noticed this, too, and you watched as he gestured towards the fussy baby to ask Amelia for permission to pick her up. When she nodded, he placed the plate of food on the porch next to her, gently unbuckled the infant and scooped her up. 

The baby started to actually cry, and Jake’s face showed you he realized he had miscalculated. You chuckled and took the baby from his hands, rocking her gently in your arms. “Amelia, when was the last time she ate? Maybe she’s hungry,” you pondered out loud. 

Amelia retrieved a bottle from one of the bags on the porch and Jake went inside to warm up some water. You spoke some more, letting Amelia eat what Jake had brought out and encouraging her to let you help her figure everything out before she left for school in a month. Eventually, she conceded, and you exchanged phone numbers and addresses before she left, giving one last kiss to the sleeping baby in your arms. 

Jake helped you carry the baby and her things into the house, meeting the bewildered faces of the people closest to you. You smiled warily and shifted the sleeping baby in your arms to give them a better look.

“What is even going on here? I am so confused,” Sam piped up first. 

“Well, I think we have another temporary guest tonight,” Jake airily chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. His parents and siblings flocked to the baby, 

You handed Jake the baby and excused yourself to your bedroom to call your friend Natalie at Child Protective Services. As vaguely as you could, you explained the situation and that you were advocating for the birth mother so that Amelia could get through the process smoothly and make it to school the next month. Natalie was familiar with this kind of situation, but she let you know that there were currently no foster homes equipped to take newborns on a Friday evening. She would have to come retrieve the baby to either take back to the hospital for the interim or to the CPS office until a foster home could be found on Monday. Something just didn’t feel right to you about that, so you suggested keeping the baby over the weekend. After some convincing, paperwork, and copies of drivers licenses of everyone in your home that weekend, Natalie agreed. As you were saying your goodbyes to Natalie, Jake walked into your shared bedroom.

“Y/N, what are you doing? Why did you ask for everyone’s IDs?” He crossed his arms while standing in front of you at the foot of the bed. 

“Well, I uh…so here’s the thing,” you started, giving him a sheepish smile. “They don’t have a foster home available right now and the only other option is for her to go back to the hospital or to be stuck in a CPS office with some random CPS officer until they can look for a home on Monday. It just didn’t sit right with me, Jake, so I said she could stay here with us for the weekend.”

Jake looked at you incredulously for a moment, sighing and running a hand through his locks dramatically. “Baby, you can’t just make that decision without asking me! She’s not just a baby, she’s like 5 days old!”

“But Jake, I promised Amelia I would make sure she was loved and cherished and taken care of! If they took her to the hospital, she would just be another baby among a sea of babies, and if she went to the CPS office, she would get the most minimum care she needs. I’m sorry I didn’t consult you first, but I couldn’t hang up the phone!” you tried to explain. You knew you should have spoken with Jake before suggesting it, and you knew you could have called Natalie back after doing so, but something about the situation felt emergent.

Jake sighed and sat down next to you, placing his elbows on his knees and hanging his head between his shoulders. He put his chin in one hand and tilted his head to look at you. “We have no idea what to do with a baby, Y/N. This is going to be really hard.”

“If you wanted easy, you shouldn’t have married me!” you snapped, eyes wide and slightly glossy. “Of course it’s not going to be easy, but things that are worth it never are.”

His mouth opened and closed as he looked at you, and a smile slowly crept across his features. “You’re right. I guess I wouldn’t have said no, anyways. She’s kind of cute.” You smiled at each other and shared a quick kiss before heading back out into the living room to mingle with your family and your newest house guest. 

The weekend seemed to drag on, you and Jake hardly getting any sleep. You had decided to place the pack-n-play Amelia had left in yours and Jake’s room, as it had been your decision to have her stay and it felt unfair to put your other house guests through her cries. You even felt bad for Jake, since it was your decision to host her, but he waived you off, reminding you consistently that he was your husband and that anything you chose to do you would do it together. So the two of you worked together to calm her nightly cries, change her diaper, cuddle her until she felt safe enough to sleep. Still, there was a lot the two of you did not know, and Karen and Kelly helped teach you and Jake how to take care of Genevieve. Ronnie kept her company long enough for both of you to shower and clean up around the house, and the guys came around throughout the weekend to keep everyone company.

Jake started calling her Vivy Sunday evening after she spit up on Sam’s new sweater. His laughter and “Atta girl, Vivy!” melted your heart, and your perspective started to shift. You and Karen watched from the kitchen as you prepared dinner, and she took note of your smile and slightly watery eyes. She knew you too well. 

“She’s a real cutie, you know. You sure we have to give her back tomorrow?” Karen laughed, bumping your arm with hers. You laughed along with her, but her words stuck in the back of your mind. 

“Babe, watch this!” Jake’s excited voice garnered your interest as he strutted into the kitchen with the baby in his arms. When he got close enough, he placed a couple kisses to the Genevieve’s cheek and in response she opened her eyes slightly and seemed to give a small smile. “She smiled!” He repeated the motion a couple times and smiled again. 

“Oh, sweet girl,” you cooed, gently rubbing your thumb across her forehead. When you looked up at Jake, you saw a look of complete awe as he stared back at the baby. You wondered if he had the same voice in the back of his head.

. . .

Later that night, you and Jake sat in your bed watching a movie with a sleeping baby held close to your chest. It was way past 3 AM, but Genevieve had just fallen asleep after a couple of hours of being fussy, and your mind was still racing. 

“What time is Natalie supposed to come get her?” Jake quietly questioned, turning on his side to face you and place a hand atop the one you held to the baby’s back.

“She didn’t say, she only said she would have to go to the office and make a few phone calls to find a foster home willing to take her first. I texted the partners and let them know the situation, so they can reach me on my cell tomorrow if they need to. Or today, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, and you looked down fondly at the sleeping baby once more. 

“Do you think—”

“I have an ide—”

You both started at the same time. You chuckled and Jake motioned for you to start first. 

“I just…okay, I know we talked about trying for a baby in like a year,” you trailed off, trying to find the words. “But do you think that maybe now is a good time? I mean, you guys are taking a break to work on the new album for a few months, and when you go back on tour maybe we could just come with you—”

“We?” Jake questioned, and you could swear you saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes when you looked back at him. 

“I mean, I don’t know, Jake. The past couple of days have been some of the hardest days of my life, but they were also so fulfilling. And then you came in the kitchen tonight and she smiled when you kissed her little cheek, and I just…I don’t know if I’m ready to let her go tomorrow.” You sighed and sat up enough to pull the baby from your chest and rest her gently on the bed between your outstretched legs. 

Jake was silent for a minute, and you were honestly afraid to look up at him to search his face for the words he hadn’t yet spoken. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way and this has just been a fun little experiment for him. Maybe he would rather you stick to the original plan of starting your family in a year. But when you finally built enough courage to look up at him, your worries dissipated. Jake had moved up to sit against the headboard, his knees bent as he looked over at you. His eyes were watery with joy and he smiled behind a bit lip.

“Y-yeah, yeah I think she should maybe stay here,” Jake responded with a cough, ever trying to hold on to his tough-guy demeanor. “And I think maybe we should make her ours.”

“Yeah, I think so, too,” you nodded. Jake stood up from the bed and took Genevieve to the pack-n-play to lay her down. You followed along behind him, and the two of you stood watching over her as she slept, hand in hand.

You called Natalie first thing the next morning after confirming once again with Jake that this was something you were sure you both wanted. Your families were delighted, and everyone helped the best they could over the next couple weeks getting your new daughter settled into her rightful place in your home. Amelia was ecstatic when you asked her if she would allow you and Jake to adopt the baby, saying that she had hoped you would say so. The three of you worked through the process together, and soon Amelia was off to college with the biggest weight lifted off of her shoulders. You didn���t hear much from her again, save for the graduation announcements from undergrad and –surprisingly—law school with little notes of appreciation and inspiration to you. You tried keeping in touch with her, but she kindly asked you to allow the both of you to live your lives separately. And you were proud to let her live out her dreams without you.

Two months after welcoming Vivy as your daughter, you found out you were pregnant. Terrified was a severe understatement, but when you showed Jake the test, he belted out the most elated belly laugh you thought you would ever hear from him. You remember him setting Vivy down in her bouncer and smashing your cheeks between his palms to kiss you deeply. He made sure to tell you all night how much he loved you, how much he loved your family already, and how much he was going to love adding a new little one to love. When you worried about handling two babies so close together, he would say he had two arms for a reason. He did so much to assure you that this was an exciting thing, and that he would be happy to have a busload more if you wanted them. When June came, and a 10-month-old Vivy smiled and clapped when she met her little sister for the first time, you felt like your heart would actually burst. Unadulterated happiness is the only way you could describe it.

Present time…

You sniffled as you remembered that weekend. It wasn’t easy, but it really had been worth it. 

“Yeah, it was worth it. Even the terrible twos,” you laughed. You could feel Jake’s smile on your neck.

“It was and still is. Do you remember when she cried the first time I put her in time out? Broke my heart. Her big round eyes and her puckered lip still haunt me to this day.” 

“Oh, my favorite is when she cried at the hospital when she found out Wiley was a boy and not another baby sister for her,” you laughed.

“Oh my gosh! Yeah, when I went out to go get them and tell everyone he was a boy she was not happy. But you should have seen Junie, she kept hugging and patting Vivy on the head and saying ‘its okay sissy, you still got me!’ and Vivy would just cry louder. It was the funniest thing, and I had to try so hard not to laugh at them.”

The two of you laughed some more, and you eventually turned in Jakes arms to lean your head against his chest. “Do you think we’ve given her enough time yet?”

“Yeah, do you want to lead the way or me?” 

The rest of that night was spent telling Vivy the entire story and showing her the graduation announcements Amelia had sent. The three of you cried together, laughed together, and Jake reminded her that families are made up of all kinds of people and that blood relation was not a requirement. He reminded her that Uncle Danny was not his blood brother, but that he would always be in their lives. He reminded her that she may not have the same physical features as you or Jake, but that she had your heart and his amazing style (to which she fell over laughing). He reminded her that sometimes people have babies that aren’t meant to have them, and that the best thing her birth mother did for her was giving her the life she had never had. He reminded her to be grateful to Amelia, and that if she ever wanted to meet her, he would hold one hand and you would hold her other. He reminded her that she was loved, and that she would always be your first baby girl. 

And he reminded you that your little family was worth everything and more.

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Thanks for reading!