#i mean YES x and zero would make a good couple if zero stopped trying to kill himself every three fucking years

[hyuckiefluff]

casual | mark lee

pairing: idol! mark lee x waitress! fem. reader genre: fluff, strangers to lovers wc: 8k summary: you wouldn’t normally fall for a guy who left his number on a dinner bill. too bad that guy was mark fucking lee. content warnings: slightly suggestive content (making out), light cursing, food mentioned, parasocial themes, reader works a service job, a very overworked mark lee :(. no explicit smut in this part. a/n: hiii before anyone yells at me—yes, i know this isn’t the haechan fic i’m supposed to be working on (promise i’m still on it!!) but listen… i went to the smtown concert last week and it fully reignited my delusions, so i wrote this as a coping mechanism :P ik we’ve all been out with friends maybe at a restaurant, and thought, “what if my bias walked in right now?” right?? that’s basically the entire premise of this fic. pretty unrealistic but super fun to write & i hope it’s just as fun to read! also no smut… yall know what that means lol if you want a part 2... just say the word. ps: if you’re ever at an italian restaurant, do yourself a favor and get the gnocchi. trust me.

READ PART 2 HERE

giving up your one free day to cover someone else’s shift wasn’t how you planned to spend saturday. but when your coworker begged with teary eyes and a story about her sick cat, saying no felt impossible.

so instead of sinking into your couch with a pint of chocolate ice cream and pride and prejudice on repeat, you were hustling through a saturday night at one of the city’s busiest restaurants.

it was hour six of your shift and you were at that breaking point where one starts fantasizing about quitting—or at least hiding in the walk-in freezer for five peaceful minutes.

any weekend here was a carnage with nonstop orders, zero patience, and customers who thought yelling would grill a steak faster.

but it was finally past eleven which meant the dinner rush had slowed and the only remaining stragglers were either couples too in love to notice the time or office workers too tired to cook at home. just two more hours, you thought to yourself.

“y/n! table four,” your coworker called, rushing past with a stack of empty plates.

you snapped out of your daze and walked over, expecting tired business executives or another couple feeding each other breadsticks. instead, you made eye contact with the two people you least expected to see here.

mark lee and johnny suh were looking right at you.

your heart dropped to your ass. for a second, you actually considered turning around. but even with your brain buffering, you knew you had to keep it together. the last thing you wanted was to make them uncomfortable.

you stopped beside their table, immediately recognizing the other two who had their backs to you as haechan and jungwoo. internally, you were combusting, but externally you prayed your expression didn’t scream that you were seconds from melting into the floor.

“hi, welcome to cecconi’s,” you said, voice steady enough despite your heart hammering your ribs.

when you handed over their menus, your fingers brushed mark’s briefly and you hoped he didn’t notice you flinch. that’s when you noticed the book peeking out of the front pocket of his hoodie.

you recognized the cover instantly— south of the border, west of the sun by murakami.

you cleared your throat, smiling before you could stop yourself. “that’s a good one.”

mark’s eyes followed where you were pointing and his eyebrows shoot up when he realized “wait… you’ve read this?”

you nodded, trying to be casual, as if you hadn’t picked that book apart alone on your bedroom floor at 2 a.m. two months ago. “i’ve read all of his stuff. but this one was a whole different experience.”

“i literally can’t put it down.” mark said, angling his body to yours with excitement. you could see he was tired but the small talk seemed to give him an energy boost.

“right? anything by murakami makes me feel like i’m eavesdropping on my own memories,” you said, mostly to yourself.

“that’s exactly it!” he said, eyes going wide. “i never knew how to put it into words before.” you had to look away before you got caught smiling at how boyish he looked when he got excited.

the other members stared with amused expressions on their faces, so you quickly straightened up and went back into server mode.

“right… uhm, our special tonight is black truffle gnocchi in a garlic cream reduction, topped with parmesan and chive oil. would you like something to drink while you look over the menu?”

“what kind of beers do you have?” johnny asked, leaning back in his seat.

you rattled off the list, stepping in to point them out on the menu. your hand was visibly shaking, but you hoped they’d chalk it up to general social awkwardness and not the fact that your four favorite idols were sitting in front of you.

“just water for me,” mark said softly. despite his smile, you could clearly hear how strained his voice was.

“great, i’ll bring those right out.”

they must’ve come straight from the venue. tonight’s show—the very one you’d missed because of this shift—had ended less than two hours ago. and now they were here, in your section, eating dinner. 

you walked to the bar, filled the glasses as requested except for mark’s. for him, you brewed a mug of hot water, dropped in a slice of lemon, a swirl of honey, and a small nub of ginger. it wasn’t even on the menu but something about his tired eyes and strained voice made you move on instinct.

you brought the tray back with all the drinks, placing them down carefully. when you reached mark, you set the mug in front of him.

“i hope this is okay,” you said quietly. “honey-ginger tea. it’s good for your throat.”

mark blinked, taken off guard. “oh… thank you.” he looked down at the mug, then back up at you. “seriously. that’s really thoughtful.”

you just smiled, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “are you guys ready to order?”

they each placed their orders, nothing too extravagant. jungwoo wanted pasta, johnny asked for a steak medium rare, and haechan—after a dramatic five minute debate with himself—settled on the truffle gnocchi. mark went last.

“can i get the steak medium rare? and the mashed potatoes instead of the fries, if that’s okay,” he asked, glancing up again, voice still carrying that soft exhaustion.

“of course,” you said, jotting it down. “i’ll get those in for you.”

you dropped the order slip at the kitchen window, still feeling weirdly out of sync with your body. it didn’t help that you had to keep circling their table to serve other guests. table five had just ordered dessert, the group behind them needed their wine refilled, and your feet barely touched the floor before you were moving again. 

still, awareness prickled at the back of your neck whenever you passed their table.

you turned your head slightly, pretending to scan the room. mark was looking right at you but quickly glanced away, suddenly very invested in the tea in front of him.

you hesitated. maybe they needed something?

smoothing your apron, you walked back to their table. your heart thudded way harder than it needed to, but you managed a smile.

“everything okay here?” you asked.

mark cleared his throat, shaking his head as a faint flush crept up his neck. “we’re good. thanks, though.”

johnny’s lips twitched, and haechan was very clearly hiding a smirk behind his glass.

you smiled again, warmth rising in your chest at how shy he looked. “no worries. food should be out soon.”

back behind the bar, you tried to focus. really, you did. but your eyes kept drifting back to their table. thankfully, they seemed too wrapped up in their conversation to notice. every now and then, though, mark’s gaze would flicker your way.

he’s probably just zoning out, you told yourself. or exhausted, probably both. don’t be weird about it.

still… he kept looking. did you have something on your face? was it obvious you recognized them? god, what if he thought the tea was too much?

you groaned softly and buried your face in your hands when no one was looking.

pull it together, y/n. finish the shift. freak out later.

they are pretty quickly and eventually, their table quieted down. it was past midnight now, and the restaurant was finally starting to shut down. you printed their bill, then hesitated, chewing your lip as your pulse ticked higher.

should i?

this was your shot. it was maybe a little silly and borderline embarrassing, but if you didn’t say something now, you’d regret it forever.

before you could second-guess yourself any more, you scribbled a note at the bottom of the receipt:

"hii, hope this isn’t weird but i’m a really big fan. you’re amazing and i hope you enjoyed your meal and that the tea helped. get some rest tonight! :)"

you took a breath, walked back over, and placed it gently in the center of the table.

“here’s your bill,” you said quietly. “no rush, of course.”

mark looked up first. the smile he gave you was a little tired, but genuine.

“thank you,” he said warmly.

you nodded and stepped away, legs wobbling slightly as you disappeared into the back.

it’s done, you told yourself. no going back now.

as you busied yourself cleaning other tables, you watched from the corner of your eye as they got up. haechan said something that made mark laugh quietly, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made your stomach flutter helplessly.

then they were gone.

you waited a few extra minutes before heading over just to be sure. as you cleared the plates, you reached for the bill with your heart already racing, though you told yourself not to expect anything.

but when you opened the leather folder, your breath hitched.

they’d left a generous tip—but that wasn’t what caught your eye. there was something written under your message, a response scribbled quickly in neat handwriting:

"thanks for taking care of us tonight. especially the tea! :)"

followed by a number.

your heart kicked so hard you had to brace a hand on the table edge. there was no name at all, just the number. the ink looked a little smudged near the dash like whoever wrote it had closed the presenter in a hurry.

holy shit.

͏͏͏𝄞͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏͏♥︎̼

it was past one when you finally made it home, hair smelling like garlic butter and burnt steak. the city lay quiet, your apartment even quieter, yet your brain refused to join the calm.

with a tired sigh, you tossed your bag onto the couch and collapsed beside it, fingers still gripping the bill tightly.

you’d reread the message ten times already. the ink was even more smudged now from your fingers, but the number was still clear.

you exhaled loudly, then groaned into a throw pillow.

“what the hell is happening.”

it had to be mark. right? it felt obvious. 

then again, maybe another member had simply appreciated the gesture and thanked you on behalf of mark. after all, their handwriting wasn't exactly familiar. you’d seen them a few times on signed albums or online fan letters, but not enough to be certain. 

suddenly determined, you sat upright, snapped a quick photo, and zoomed in immediately.

“this is insane,” you muttered.

 but that didn’t stop you from opening a tab to search: mark lee handwriting.

this wasn’t your best moment. you were tired, emotionally compromised, and clearly spiraling. still you opened a second tab and went deeper until you were staring at stan twitter handwriting threads for half an hour.

after many more side-by-sides, you sat back and stared at the screen like it could confess to you.

“it looks like his,” you whispered.

just text him. what's the worst that could happen?

the thought alone conjured every embarrassing scenario possible and made you nearly throw your phone across the room. how would you even start that conversation?

“hi, is this mark lee from nct? because i’m lowkey in love with you and i really hope you're the one who left your number at my workplace tonight?”

your heart nearly stopped at the thought. you glanced at the clock again—2:17 a.m.

yeah. no. you needed to lie down. you’d sleep on it. calm down a bit and gain some perspective.

but three days passed.

three whole days. that’s how long you spent agonizing over a single text. you'd written and deleted at least twenty drafts—too casual, too eager, too weird. one even included a joke you cringed at the second you typed it, and deleted just as fast.

he’s probably already back in korea, you reminded yourself while folding napkins at the restaurant on tuesday. fan accounts had posted airport photos before you even got out of bed. mark in a beanie and headphones, eyes puffy with exhaustion.

two more days passed. eventually, courage outweighed dread.

on thursday night, curled up in your pajamas, you stared at the too-bright glow of your phone while netflix asked if you were still watching. just do it, you told yourself. again.

you opened a new message. typed. erased. retyped. your pulse pounded, drowning out mr. darcy’s proposal in the background.

hi! this is y/n, the server from cecconi’s last saturday night. i know you’re probably crazy busy, but i just wanted to say thanks again for coming in. hope you’re resting well :)

it was friendly and not too over the top… right?

you hit send and immediately shoved the phone under your blanket, like that could somehow shield you from the rejection.

an hour passed, then three more, and nothing. you forced yourself to sleep, pretending the tight knot in your chest wasn’t disappointment. the next morning, you checked your phone before even opening both eyes.

still nothing. not even a read receipt.

it’s fine. they were idols. they were busy. you’d waited too long anyway. the group was back in rehearsals, buried in schedules. who had time to answer a text from a random server in another country?

another day passed with no reply. you tried to talk yourself down. maybe it wasn’t even his number. maybe it was a manager’s. maybe his phone was off. maybe international sims are weird. maybe—

“why did you wait so long,” you muttered into the couch, face buried in a pillow.

you were just about ready to let it go when your phone buzzed softly against the coffee table.

your heart nearly launched itself out of your chest. you scrambled for it, almost knocking over the entire table in the process.

a new message.

sorry!! things got crazy once we got back to korea. i’m really glad you texted though. and we’re resting (sort of haha). it’s mark btw :)

you stared at the screen.

read it. then read it again. and again.

warmth flooded your chest. you'd been right.

it was him.

your thumb hovered over the keyboard, brain scrambling for something to say. but for the first time in days, all you could do was smile.

you hadn’t realized how easily a single text could flip your whole mood until he replied. you must’ve read that message ten times before you even responded.

somehow, the conversation flowed naturally from there.

it started with casual back-and-forths. he’d talk about the tour, and you about your shifts. it quickly turned more personal though like blurry late-night snack pics from his studio, or mirror selfies of your server fits before dinner rushes.

none of it felt forced. but still… what was this?

you’d be wiping down table six or pulling espresso shots for a regular who never tipped, and suddenly your phone would buzz with a text message.

mark: can’t believe you’ve never seen inception…

you: maybe i was busy having friends

he sent back a string of laughing emojis and a photo of his laptop playing it.

mark: you’re watching it with me next time. no excuses.

next time.

you didn’t know what that meant, but it echoed in your head for the rest of the shift.

by the second week, it wasn’t just texts.

sometimes he’d call when your time zones aligned, and you were both free. once while you were folding laundry. another while he walked home from the studio, breath fogging the cold air as he complained about his busted heater.

“i feel like an old man,” he said once, voice scratchy. “my knees hurt”

“you’re twenty-five.”

“and breaking down.”

you laughed until your stomach hurt. he was quiet for a second, then said, “i like your laugh.”

you had to grip the edge of the counter to stay upright.

a month later came the first video call.

it was early morning. you were still half-asleep, texting with one eye open, when your screen lit up with a facetime request. you froze.

no makeup. puffy eyes. pimple cream still on your chin. but your fingers accepted the call before your brain could stop you.

he was lying down, hoodie half over his face.

“oh thank god,” he mumbled. “i thought you weren’t gonna pick up.”

“i almost didn’t,” you laughed, pulling the covers up to hide half your face. “you caught me in a vulnerable state.”

his eyes crinkled. “you look cute.”

you didn’t know what to say to that, so you just tucked your face further into the blanket.

after a few hours, the call fell into a comfortable silence, his eyes starting to flutter shut as you both lay in your respective beds.

you should’ve hung up, but you didn’t. you just stayed on the call, watching him sleep.

video calls became routine after that.

at first, they were short—ten, maybe fifteen minutes. he’d call after practice, his hair a mess, face still damp with sweat. the phone would be propped against his water bottle as he peeled off his hoodie and complained about sore calves.

but the calls started stretching longer. sometimes he was lying on a hotel bed, cheek pressed into the pillow, telling you about his comeback preparations. other times, he wandered through whatever city he was in, showing you the neon signs, quiet side streets, and cafés tucked into corners no tourist would ever find.

“i’ll take you here one day,” he said once, camera panning to a ramen shop. “i mean… if you ever visit.”

you didn’t answer right away. just smiled and pretended the idea didn’t stick in your chest like a pebble you couldn’t shake loose.

you started saving little things throughout the day just to tell him later. customer stories, songs that reminded you of him, strange headlines you knew would make him laugh. without realizing it, your brain made notes labeled tell mark this later.

he did the same. he sent you photos of whatever snack he was eating on set, told you about a dream where you both worked in a space bakery, asked what you thought of new songs he was writing. he never sent full demos, just a few seconds here and there—but it still felt intimate.

you started noticing things you hadn’t, even after all your years as a fan. how he bit the soft skin of his knuckles when he was anxious or the fact that he brushed his teeth for 6 minutes (yes, you counted).

neither of you brought up what this was. and maybe that was okay.

still, on some nights, you’d wonder does he text other people like this? has he done this before, video calls, sleepy laughter and quietly sharing his day?

you never asked.

you didn’t want to ruin the quiet magic of it all by needing too much too soon.

͏͏͏𝄞͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏͏♥︎̼

mark eased you into his life bit by bit.

on a random thursday night, you were sprawled on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through tiktok when your phone buzzed. you smiled automatically when you saw his name and hit accept.

but it wasn’t him when the call connected.

“yo! she’s real!” johnny’s voice boomed through the speaker, far too loud and way too amused.

you blinked. “wait—what?”

the screen shook as mark scrambled to get the phone back. “okay, okay, stop—hyung, give it back!”

“nice to meet you,” jungwoo added brightly in the background. “finally!”

haechan’s face popped into view next. he hovered close to the camera, flashing a crooked grin. “she’s the one, right? the reason he’s always giggling at his phone like a loser.”

they were all speaking in korean, except for johnny—who made sure you caught the gist. you weren’t fluent, but you knew enough to piece it together. their tone said a lot, anyway.

“what did he say?” you asked, laughing nervously.

johnny leaned in. “he said mark’s obsessed with you.”

mark groaned in the background. “don’t translate that.”

“he talks about you,” haechan added in english, still half-hiding behind jungwoo but clearly enjoying himself. “all. the. time.”

you stared at the screen, wide-eyed, face already burning. “oh god—wait, we just—”

“aigoo, she’s cute,” jungwoo said with a grin, nudging haechan’s shoulder. “mark, you’re done for.”

mark finally got his phone back, his flushed face filling the screen. he was breathless from laughing.

“i’m so sorry,” he mumbled. “that was… i didn’t mean for that to happen.”

you were still blushing but grinning too. “so you talk about me all the time?”

he covered his face with one hand. “please. don’t start, they won’t let me live this down”

after that night, it became a running thing. sometimes you’d call just to talk to mark and end up ambushed by his members. taeyong once popped into frame with a plate of fruit, offering you a piece through the screen like you could actually take it. “for energy,” he said in halting English, then smiled and wandered off.

chenle appeared a few times asking random questions as if you’d been friends forever, one time he asked “do you like mark as much as he likes you?”

you sputtered something while mark tried (and failed) to shut him up.

renjun showed up once too, squinting at the screen. “so this is the girl,” he said, then walked off dramatically without another word.

it was chaotic, awkward, and constantly embarrassing but it also made your chest ache in the best way. knowing you weren’t some secret he was hiding. you were someone he wanted them to know.

and then one night, a few weeks later, mark called with a different kind of energy.

“guess what?” he said, barely able to sit still.

you blinked at him through the screen. “what?”

“we’re going to the US,” he grinned, and your heart nearly stopped.

“wait, seriously?”

“yeah, for a festival. just one weekend, but i’ll have a couple free days before the flight out. i—” he paused, scratching the back of his neck. “i was really hoping i could see you.”

you stared at him, stunned for a second.

“you want to see me?” you asked softly.

“yeah,” he said immediately. “i mean, only if you want to, obviously. i just… i’ve been thinking about it for a while. texting and calling is great but,.. i kind of miss being in the same room as you.”

not just the same city,  not just in passing. but in the same room with you.

you swallowed past the nerves bubbling up in your chest and nodded, trying to keep your voice steady.

“i want that too.”

͏͏͏𝄞͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏͏♥︎̼

you tried for tickets the second they went live.

you had alarms set, several tabs open, your card ready. but none of it mattered…

they sold out in minutes.

you stared at the screen in disbelief, refreshing the page over and over hoping the outcome would change. it didn’t. your chest tightened with each failed refresh.

you were so close. and now, you had no idea how to tell mark.

you waited a whole day, thinking they’d release more tickets, maybe someone would resell—but the prices were insane, triple what you could afford, and the longer you waited, the more hopeless it felt.

when he finally called you that night, you tried to act normal for about ten seconds before it all came spilling out.

“i didn’t get tickets,” you said, voice cracking before you could stop it. “they sold out so fast and now the only ones left are like impossible. and i know you’re going to be super busy and probably won’t be able to meet up anyway, but i was really looking forward to seeing you perform, and now i don’t even know if i’ll get to see you at all—”

“hey, hey, slow down.” mark’s voice was soft. “breathe, y/n.”

you inhaled shakily, pressing your forehead to your knee, curled up on the couch. “sorry. i just… i really wanted to be there.”

“i know,” he said gently. “and i want you there too.”

you went quiet, biting the inside of your cheek.

“but we’ll figure something out, okay?” mark continued. “don’t stress about it too much. just… trust me a little.”

“what do you mean…,” you said slowly, suspicion creeping in.

he chuckled. “nothing. just saying... maybe don’t give up hope yet.”

you narrowed your eyes at your phone. “you’re being cryptic.”

“am i?” he said, way too innocently.

you groaned into your pillow. “don’t do this to me.”

“i’m not doing anything,” he replied. “just... keep the day of the festival open, okay?”

you wanted to press him, but the look in his eyes was too confident. so you nodded slowly, heart still a little heavy but soothed by the warmth in his voice.

the day they landed in the US, you got the call while brushing your teeth.

your phone lit up with his name, and you answered with a mouthful of foam, spitting it out quickly as you mumbled, “hey, did you land?”

“we did,” mark said, voice laced with excitement. “and i have good news.”

“what?”

“a car’s going to pick you up the day of the show,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “my team helped sort it out. we wanted to make sure you’d be there.”

you blinked, wide-eyed, toothbrush still in hand. “wait what? you—what do you mean? mark—”

“you’re coming to the festival, y/n. you’re not missing this. not if i can help it.”

you clutched your phone, stunned into silence, overwhelmed by how much care he’d tucked into those few words.

“you didn’t have to—”

“i know,” he interrupted, voice softer now. “but i wanted to.”

͏͏͏𝄞͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏͏♥︎̼

you’d never felt more nervous getting ready for anything in your entire life. not for job interviews, not for first dates, not even for a final exam. nothing compared to the fluttering anxiety buzzing in your chest right now.

it was almost ridiculous how much effort you'd put in. your hair was carefully styled in waves that took you half an hour to do, your makeup was done and redone multiple times until you finally settled on something subtle but pretty. your outfit had taken ages to choose, you didn’t want to look too casual but also didn’t want to make it seem like you were trying too hard. so you settled for a regular black skirt and a white long sleeved top, it was comfortable but not boring. you wanted to look good, even though mark had already seen you at your most tired, sweaty, and disheveled.

the car arrived precisely at the time mark had promised. your heart jumped to your throat when the driver opened the door for you, offering a polite nod. 

your hands trembled slightly in your lap the entire ride to the venue. you felt giddy, overwhelmed, and deeply nervous all at once.

but when you finally arrived, the excitement abruptly shifted into self-awareness. several staff members glanced at you warily, some whispering to each other and throwing quick looks your way. suddenly, you felt very out of place, shrinking slightly under their scrutinizing gazes.

“excuse me,” came a sharp voice behind you. you turned around to see a woman approaching, her expression serious, a clipboard held firmly in her hands. “you must be y/n?”

“yes,” you replied nervously.

“there are some documents you'll need to sign,” she informed you.

“documents? like—”

“standard NDAs, confidentiality agreements, liability waivers,” she cut in and handed you a clipboard, flipping briskly through pages filled with dense legal text. “you'll need to sign these before we move forward.”

you stood frozen for a moment, feeling incredibly naive and small as reality hit you like a slap to the face. you’d let yourself get carried away, almost forgetting who exactly mark was—who exactly these people were. they weren't just regular guys; they were idols, celebrities, people with management teams and carefully guarded images.

this was serious and you had somehow underestimated all of it.

the woman noticed your hesitation, her expression softening just a fraction. “it’s standard procedure,” she said, “mark personally asked us to ensure you’re comfortable, but we need to protect everyone involved.”

“okay,” you whispered shakily, taking the pen from her hand. your fingers felt numb as you signed, barely registering the words printed on the paper. 

once the woman was satisfied, she took the clipboard back, nodded curtly, and gestured for you to follow her. your heart thundered in your chest as you walked through the busy hallway.

then she stopped in front of a dressing room door, knocking sharply once before opening it slightly. “mark? your guest is here.”

you held your breath as the door slowly swung open, your pulse so loud you could hardly hear anything else.

mark appeared in the doorway, eyes widening slightly as he took you in. suddenly, all the anxiety, paperwork, and awkwardness faded into the background. his expression softened immediately, that familiar warmth returning as his eyes crinkled in a gentl smile.

“hey,” he breathed softly, clearly just as relieved to see you as you were to see him. “you made it.”

mark steps fully into the hallway, blocking the view of the bustling green-room behind him. for half a beat you both just stare, soaking in the fact that you’re finally sharing the same oxygen again instead of pixels on a phone screen.

“wow…” he breathes, cheeks coloring as his eyes scan you. “you look so—” he catches himself, smiles sheepishly, and opens his arms. “can i?”

you nod before your brain supplies coherent language, letting him tug you forward. the hug is quick—he’s hyper-aware of everyone around you—but his hand stays at your elbow afterward, grounding you.

“sorry about the fuss,” he murmurs, voice pitched low so only you can hear. 

“it’s okay… just a bit intense.”

“i know.” his thumb sweeps a tiny circle on your sleeve. “but you’re here now. c’mon, the guys are waiting.”

when you walk inside the room is buzzing with energy. there’s stylists zipping garment bags, a makeup artist following jungwoo around to touch up his lips, haechan drumming on a folding table with two half-empty water bottles. the second he spots you, his face splits into a grin.

“look who made it!” he crows, loud enough for the entire room to hear. “mark’s special guest.”

johnny swivels in a chair. “oh, the infamous y/n at last.” he stands, offering a hand that turns into a gentle half-hug when you take it. “nice seeing you again.”

jungwoo waves from a corner, cheeks puffed with gummy bears. “hi! mark’s talked a lot about you,” he says around the candy. 

mark groans. “ignore them, they’ve been insufferable since i told them you were coming.”

“insufferable?” haechan clutches his chest theatrically. “hyung, we’re just supporting your relationship!”

you feel your face go nuclear. “it’s not— we’re just—”

“friends,” mark supplies, shooting haechan a warning glance. but the tips of his ears have gone pink, and the little smile tugging at his mouth totally betrays him.

johnny leans closer, whispering, “lies, he’s always grinnung at his phone like a middle schooler whenever you talk.”

you let out a mortified laugh that turns into a squeak when mark nudges johnny away. “we have to be on stage in ten minutes, maybe focus?”

jungwoo claps. “right! you can watch backstage with staff.”

an assistant appears then, handing mark an in-ear pack. he hesitates, then squeezes your hand once before following the others toward wardrobe.

“sorry i gotta get dressed,” he says over his shoulder, “see you in a bit.”

you exhale for the first time since stepping off the car, pulse finally settling as the door swings shut. you tuck a stray hair behind your ear, catching your reflection in a vanity mirror. your cheeks are flushed and there’s a stunned little smile on your lips.

the staff member that escorted you in approaches again, her expression now more polite but still distant as she walks you down a narrow hallway. “you’ll be watching from here,” she explains as you reach a curtained-off section just beside the stage entrance.

the space is just wide enough for a couple of folding chairs, and a monitor showing the stage feed. even through the curtain, you can hear the low rumble of the crowd growing louder by the second—cheers, screams, the crowd chanting “ilichil, we love you!” 

you perch at the edge of a chair, feeling entirely out of place and wildly overwhelmed.

what am i even doing here?

this wasn’t some fantasy anymore. you weren’t watching fancams in your pajamas or whispering to your screen during late-night video calls. you were backstage, in their world, and everyone around you belonged to it except you.

you looked down at your outfit again, smoothing invisible wrinkles, suddenly doubting every choice you’d made that morning. your nails, your shoes, even the way you’d done your eyeliner. it all felt too much and not enough at the same time.

a soft noise pulls your attention back to the side curtain. one of the stylists slips through, handing off a mic pack to someone just outside your view. you recognize mark’s voice quickly.

he’s laughing at something jungwoo said, but even through the laughter you can hear the edge of nerves in his voice. it makes you feel… less alone in your own.

you peek around the edge of the curtain. they’re all gathered near the wings, adjusting their in-ears and bouncing on their heels to shake out last-minute jitters. mark’s back is turned at first, but then he glances over his shoulder almost like he can feel your eyes on him.

your breath catches when his gaze finds yours. through all the chaos and noise, his eyes meet yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

he doesn’t wave or call out—he just smiles.

he turns back as staff starts to guide them toward the entrance tunnel, and you’re left sitting there with your heart doing an unholy rhythm in your chest.

you hadn’t expected this, the building pressure in your chest, the way your emotions feel too big to hold.

but underneath all of it, layered between the nerves and the noise inside your own head, there’s a flicker of anticipation.

he’s just a few feet away now. he’s about to be on stage, doing what he was born to do, and you’ll be right here, watching not just as a fan anymore.

but as someone who matters to him.

the stage lights cut to black, and the low hum of the backing track pulses through the arena like a heartbeat. from your narrow perch in the wings you can feel the vibration under your soles, a physical reminder that this isn’t a dream.

a lone spotlight slices across the darkness—jungwoo steps into it, and the crowd erupts. the boys fan out behind him in practiced formation.

mark is near the center, head lowered, hand cupped over his earpiece as he settles into position. you’ve watched this opening on countless fancams, but up close everything is magnified: the hiss of their in-ears, the snap of jacket fabric when they turn, the ragged inhale before the first line.

johnny’s deep vocal rolls out, haechan answers with his bright harmony, and suddenly the whole place is singing along..

mark’s part hits next. he steps forward, eyes scanning the sea of faces before flicking to you. it’s only a second, a brush of attention so quick the crowd would never catch it, but it lands like a spark in your lungs. he grins, then pivots into choreography.

you never understood how performers could look both effortless and deadly focused until now. sweat beads at their hairlines within minutes, but they don’t miss a beat. haechan riffs a playful ad-lib, doyoung shoots him a mock glare, johnny laughs into his mic; the crowd screams, drunk on the interaction.

halfway through the set, they perform gold dust as a surprise, the stage lights go yellow. mark moves to the far edge closer to you and delivers his verse straight ahead. but on his last bar he tilts his head, eyes skimming the shadows where you’re standing. his voice drops into that warm, gritty register you know too well from late-night calls, and despite the roar of the arena the moment feels impossibly intimate.

you tuck your hands under your arms, trying to calm the goosebumps, but the sheer thrill of seeing him own that stage while still tossing these tiny pieces of himself your way is overwhelming.

the final song explodes in confetti cannons. the boys hit their last pose, breathing hard, grinning wide. the screams from the audience are deafening; even the backstage staff exchange awed looks.

mark bows with the others, shouting “thank you!” into his mic, but as they turn to exit he catches your gaze one more time. he taps two fingers against his chest, then points subtly toward the hallway where you’re waiting and mouths the words stay right there, i’ll find you.

and you waited exactly where he told you to.

or… at least tried to.

but the moment the boys disappeared off stage, chaos swallowed everything whole. several stagehands rushed past with crates, wires and gear flying in every direction, staff barking orders into walkies while backup dancers and security weaved in and out of the narrow corridors.

you stepped back into the corner, trying not to get trampled, but every second you waited the crowd thickened, people shouting over each other, crew passing by so quickly that you were bumped into more than once. you caught glimpses of the members being swept off into different directions—haechan laughing breathlessly with a towel around his neck, johnny taking a water bottle from someone. but there was no sight of mark.

“you can’t stand here,” someone snaps, grabbing your elbow and steering you quickly away. “please, move along.”

“wait, i was supposed to—” you start, but your protest drowns in the noise as you’re guided through the maze of corridors. 

you glance over your shoulder anxiously, panic rising in your throat. mark said he’d find you but you don’t even know where you’re going.

the staff member stops abruptly near a back exit, where a van is parked outside the open door. he gestures hurriedly. “wait in there, please. someone will be with you shortly.”

before you can question it, he’s already vanished back into the building. hesitantly, you climb into the empty van, settling awkwardly on the leather seat. not even a minute later your phone buzzes with a text from mark.

mark: where are you??? backstage is insane, i can’t find you.

you quickly reply: someone moved me to a van near the back entrance?

your heart pounds as minutes stretch into eternity and doubt starts gnawing at you—they will probably film some behind the scenes content now, interviews, livestreams, what if he doesn’t have time to find you before he’s sent away?

but just as anxiety peaks, the van door suddenly slides open. your eyes widen as mark appears, breathing heavily like he ran to reach you, his stage makeup slightly smudged, hair damp and tousled from the performance. he sighs in relief, shoulders visibly relaxing the second he sees you.

“oh, thank god,” he breathes, climbing quickly into the van and closing the door behind him. “i was so worried. everything okay?”

“yeah, it was just really hectic—” you start, but your words fade as he sits beside you, closer than you’ve ever really been. close enough that you can see the faint glitter along his jaw, the sweat glistening at his temples, the warmth in his gaze as it settles fully on your face.

“you were incredible out there,” you say softly. “i’ve never…  it’s different seeing it up close.”

his cheeks pink despite the post-performance flush. “i kept looking for you.” 

“i noticed,” you admit, smiling.

mark’s gaze drops to your hands twisting in your lap and he reaches out.

“thanks for being here,” he murmurs. 

your laugh is a shaky exhale. “i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“also…the NDA,” he starts quietly. “i didn’t want you to feel like i was cornering you into some weird situation. that’s not what this is.”

“mark, i didn’t think that. i mean—it was overwhelming, yeah, but i get it. you’re…” you gesture helplessly. “you.”

he laughs softly, but there’s no real humor behind it. “i hate it. you know, not being able to just… hang out with you. not having the freedom to do normal things, like… i don’t know—go get coffee or show you the city or tell people about you without it turning into a whole thing.”

“is that what this is? am i…” you hesitate. “something you’d want to tell people about?”

he looks up at you, and there’s not a trace of hesitation when he says, “yes. i think about it all the time.”

you blink, throat suddenly dry.

he leans in slightly. “i just… i didn’t want you to think i was trying to make you sign your silence just so i could keep you a secret. it’s not about hiding you. it’s about protecting something that means a lot to me.”

and there it is. the part he hadn’t said yet.

you mean a lot to him.

your chest tightens with the weight of being chosen in a world that doesn’t make space for this kind of closeness, that demands boundaries, a good image and clean lines drawn in ink. and yet here he is, blurring those lines for you.

“thank you for saying that,” you murmur, voice trembling a little. “i didn’t realize how much i needed to hear it.”

mark reaches across the space then, taking your other hand. “i don’t want this to feel like you’re walking on eggshells because of my life. i want it to feel real.”

your fingers tighten around his instinctively.

“it already does,” you whisper.

and when he finally closes the distance between you, pulling you into a quiet, careful hug, it feels so right.

his arms wrap around you and for a second the world outside the van ceases to exist. he’s warm even through his stage jacket, you can feel his heartbeat thudding fast against your cheek. you breathe him in, clean sweat and fabric softener.

when he pulls back, he doesn’t release your hand. his thumb brushes lazy paths over your knuckles.

“i kept picturing this,” he admits quietly. “all week. wondering if it would feel the same in person as it did in my head.”

“and?” you whisper.

“it’s even better,” he says without hesitation.

he shifts slightly, the space between you rapidly shrinking. his gaze flickers briefly down to your lips, and the movement sends your pulse racing.

“mark,” you whisper, voice barely audible, “i—”

his other hand gently finds your cheek, thumb tracing lightly along your skin, tipping your chin up just a fraction. he searches your face, breathing shallow and eyes heavy with something soft and vulnerable.

you lean in instinctively, eyes fluttering closed as his breath ghosts warm over your lips—

and then the van door suddenly swings open, a burst of noise and harsh backstage lighting flooding in.

“mark hyung, manager hyung says—oh shit.” haechan freezes halfway inside the doorway. “ohhh, sorry… was i interrupting something?”

mark jerks back, cheeks blazing crimson as his hand quickly leaves your cheek and lands awkwardly in his lap. “dude, are you serious?” he groans, dropping his head with a sigh and muttering a very un-idol-like curse word. 

you cover your mouth, laughing breathlessly through the embarrassment even as your pulse continues hammering in your ears.

“sorry, sorry,” haechan says, grinning wickedly, clearly not sorry at all. “but uh, we gotta go. manager hyung’s freaking out. we got an interview, hurry up.”

“yeah. coming.” he searches your face, apology written in his eyes “they’ll herd us to the hotel soon. can you wait a little longer? i want to ride with you after they clear the crowd.”

you nod, trying to ignore the throb of almost-kiss still sparking across your lips. “i’m not going anywhere.”

“give me twenty minutes tops, and then i’m kidnapping you for actual food.”

“bold of you to assume i’d say no.”

as he slips out, you catch the faintest curve of a smile before the door thuds shut and you’re alone again.

thirty minutes later, mark slips back into the van. this time freshly changed, hair still damp but swept under a dark cap.

“sorry that took forever.” he drops into the seat opposite you, knee bouncing with leftover adrenaline. “do you wanna come meet the other members properly before we leave?”

you follow him back through a quieter service corridor to a smaller green room that smells heavily like hair spray. inside, half the members are sprawled on sofas in various states of post-show exhaustion. the energy shifts the second mark ushers you in.

“guys, this is y/n,” he says.

taeyong shoots up first, hand extended. “the legend herself,” he jokes, grinning wide enough to prove he’s still riding his performance high. jaehyun offers a shy wave and drags over a chair so you won’t have to hover. yuta, also walks over and introduces himself politely.

doyoung is the only one who stays seated, arms folded. his eyes flick between you and mark, assessing. it lasts all of three seconds before he notices how relaxed mark looks—those shoulders that usually sit somewhere near his ears are loose, his smile easy. doyoung’s expression softens.

“thanks for cheering him up,” he says quietly, a little sheepish. “he’s been impossible the last few weeks.” the tease lands gentle, and mark flicks a sweat towel at him in retaliation.

the small talk bubbles up easily. the topic shifting from favorite festival moments, to whose in-ears cut out, and the confetti that caught in doyoung’s mouth during a high note. the atmosphere is warm and surprisingly normal, until a manager pops his head in to remind everyone they’ve got early rehearsals tomorrow.

mark steers you quickly back to the van after saying a quick goodbye.

“so…” he ran a hand through his hair and put his hat back on. “food?”

“please,” you groaned, head falling back against the seat. “i’m starving.”

“wanna go to a restaurant?” he offered.

you winced. “too risky.”

he nodded slowly. “true, my hotel’s worse.”

you turned your head to face him. “sasaengs?”

“they wait outside sometimes, follow the vans from the venue” he trailed off, already looking annoyed with the reality of it.

“we could…” you swallow, then barrel through. “we could go to my place? it’s not far, and no one knows where i live. we can order in.”

mark’s head tilts, surprised but already nodding. “are you sure?”

“only if you’re okay hiding out in a tiny apartment that smells like scented candles and stale coffee.”

he smiles brightly. “sounds perfect.”

you rattle off your address to the driver, heart hammering as you drive through the city. mark’s knee bumps yours every time the van hits a pothole, but neither of you moves away.

he glances over. “thank you for trusting me with your space.”

you breathe out a shaky laugh. “thank you for trusting me with… all of this.”

his fingers brush yours on the seat between you. outside, the van slows to a stop at your curb. the driver kills the lights for discretion. thankfully, the street is empty.

you turn to mark, pulse racing for an entirely new reason now. “welcome to my part of the world.”

he grins, tugging his cap lower and reaching for the door handle. “lead the way.”

your apartment is small, cluttered with book stacks and half-burned candles, but it’s yours—and when mark steps in, slipping off his shoes at the door like he’s done it a hundred times, it feels suddenly, impossibly domestic.

“so,” he murmurs, looking around with quiet curiosity. “what’s good for takeout around here?”

you settle on thai food after a chaotic five-minute debate that ends with mark looking up from your couch and going, “okay but do you trust me with your spice tolerance?”

you blink at him. “mark. i watched you cry eating jalapeño chips during that one livestream.”

“they were ghost pepper!” he defends, slightly pouting. “and i didn’t cry, my eyes were just... dry.”

you giggle and the tension that had followed you into the apartment fades with it.

while you wait for the food, he wanders around your space with curiosity. never touching too much, just observing. he stops at your bookcase, smiles at the titles stacked sideways, fingers brushing one of the cracked spines.

“so this is where you’ve been calling from,” he says as he returns to the couch, flopping down beside you. “it’s cozy.”

“that’s code for small, right?”

he tilts his head, grinning softly. “no. cozy means i don’t want to leave.”

you glance over at him, heartbeat spiking in your throat. his hoodie’s a little rumpled from the ride, cap tossed somewhere by your front door, and he’s leaned so close your shoulders brush.

“you’re kind of the only boy who’s ever said that,” you murmur.

“then they’re idiots.”

your lips twitch with a smile. mark leans his head back on the cushion, you get distracted by the cute bump on his nose and the lines of his jaw.

you both fall quiet for a while, your legs stretched out beside his on the couch, ankles knocking occasionally. your body relaxes more than you expect, as if it remembers this feeling from all those calls and imaginary versions of this moment.

when the takeout finally arrives, you both eat cross-legged on the couch, plastic containers open between you, your playlist humming low in the background.

you talk through mouthfuls of noodles about everything and nothing—his weird craving for peaches whenever he’s overseas, your childhood phase of putting ketchup on rice, how you both secretly judge people who don’t rewind movies when they pause.

somewhere between “i really miss my mom’s kimchi stew” and your story about the nightmare customer who demanded gluten-free breadsticks, your shoulders touch. a minute later his arm slips along the back of the couch, fingers grazing your shoulder each time he shifts. your nerves fizz under your skin, but the contact feels safe.

You lean into him. He doesn’t move away.

the conversation slows and when you glance up to make a joke, your nose brushes the edge of his jaw. his breath hitches at this, then a warm hand settles on your knee.

“this feels…” he starts, swallowing. “kinda unreal.”

“yeah.” a whisper—because your voice has gone missing.

his palm lifts to your cheek, thumb soft against your skin. “can I kiss you?”

you’re already nodding.

the first kiss is shy and careful, more smile than pressure. The next slips deeper, mouths moving in a lazy rhythm neither of you rush. Your fingers tangle in the hem of his hoodie; his other hand skims your waist, pulling you just close enough to feel the quiet drum of his heart.

eventually the couch gets too cramped. mark breaks the kiss with a sheepish laugh. “my back is dying,” he murmurs.

you tug him down the hall to your room, giggling when he nearly trips on a sneaker. he perches on the edge of the bed and you climb into his lap without thinking, legs draped around him. his hands settle on your hips and he sighs.

“i really, really like you,” he says, forehead resting against yours.

“i like you too. a lot.”

he kisses you again. you spend the next half hour like that, trading soft laughs and softer kisses until the adrenaline drains from his limbs. head falls heavy on your shoulder, he mumbles something about the best night of his life…and falls asleep mid-sentence.

You ease him back onto the pillows, kick off your skirt, and curl into the space beneath his arm. One leg hooks over yours; his hand rests at the small of your back, protective even in sleep.

it’s the tenth call that finally wakes him the next morning.

mark groans into your pillow, dragging his phone blindly toward his face. “what…”

a second goes by and then he jolts upright. “shit. shit.”

you blink groggily, one arm reaching out for him. “what’s wrong?”

he’s already stumbling for his shirt which he doesn’t even remember taking off last nigh. “i slept in. i never—fuck, i never sleep in.”

you sit up slowly, watching him try to shove his hat over tousled hair while checking his phone. “i have like ten missed calls.”

he answers the incoming call hurriedly, voice tense and apologetic. “yeah, i’m sorry, i know… i’m on my way now, just got… held up. i’ll explain later.”

he glances down at you then, taking in your messy hair, swollen lips and sleepy eyes, and the look on his face softens just a little.

when he finally hangs up, he rushes back to your side, quickly pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i gotta run, but i'll text you as soon as i can. i promise.”

you smile sleepily up at him, already missing the warmth of his body against yours. “go. don’t get in trouble.”

he pauses briefly before leaving. “last night was… perfect. thank you.”

and then he’s gone, leaving you to curl back into your pillow, still feeling the ghost of his touch and the lingering warmth of everything you shared.

[sunnyie-eve]

16 | Explaining

Series: Unexpected

Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: none

| MASTERLIST |

"Good Morning Campers, welcome back to Cut The Cameras Podcast. It's your favorite host Nick Sturniolo." Nick starts off.

"Matt's here, hello everyone."

"Hey Matt, you look good in your retro sweater today." Chris speaks up.

"Retro?" Dani looks at Matt's sweater. She didn't consider it retro.

"Thank you." Matt takes the compliment.

"Yeah, that's very vintage. I think it looks it." Chris says.

"Okay." Matt nods his head not caring all that much.

"Where did you get it? New? Brand new?" Nick asks him, "Did you buy it brand new?" Nick asks more so Matt shh's him.

"He got that vintage I know he did." Chris smiles.

"Brand new." Nick says again.

"Why are y'all so obsessed with a sweater?" Dani asks so confused and lost.

"Matt did you buy it or someone else?" Chris asks him, "Why is it a secret?"

"We're just curious." Nick adds.

"I did," Matt answers.

"Did you pick it because you liked it or was it because someone else might like it?" Chris asks bugging Matt and even Dani.

"Dani liked it." Matt says in a mono tone.

"I said he would look good in it because he likes blue and it would make his eyes pop more. Plus he wanted a sweater." Dani speaks up explaining.

"I'll tell you one thing. I wasn't the first person to wear it." Matt tells the guys then looks at Dani,

"Was I really?" She asks surprised since she thought he had already wore it by the time she wore it.

"Yeah because you were cold." He tells her.

"You had the AC set so low." She pleads her case to him.

"Yeah, but I had so many things and you picked this to wear." He tells her making her jaw drop.

"I didn't pick it! You handed it to me and said you can put this on." She sits up to correct him.

"What? I did not."

"You are such a liar." She laughs at him.

"I'm not listening."

"So much bickering." Chris shakes his head at the two.

"Yep." Nick agrees, "Such an old married couple."

"Whatever, what's our next topic?" Dani asks them, "Also yes, hello, Dani's here." She smiles/

"And Chris too." He adds.

"Here we go... Dani, people want to know why must you make yourself part of our group?" Nick reads off of his phone.

"Not this shit again." Chris huffs, "We already went over this!"

"For on, I'm not trying to be part of the group." Dani starts off, "You guys ask if I want to be apart of things. Like originally, I wasn't going to be on the podcast today. But the three of you asked me to so that's why I'm here."

"I've read that some people try their best to make you stop showing up in things." Chris looks for it on his phone. "I feel like they forget you're used to some hate by being in Sam and Colby videos."

"Especially when they started getting big." Dani states remembering back.

"Like they hated that you were Colby's sister." Chris adds, "It's not like you had a choice in that."

"It's because they didn't believe I was his sister. They thought it was a lie and I was just some girl who liked him and he had a small thing for me."

"That's so weird and uncomfortable for the two of you." Nick makes a face feeling bad.

"Oh, it was super weird. Seeing edits of people shipping you with your brother." Dani shakes her head, "I also grew up with unnecessary hate so you can't scare me off." She adds for the viewers.

"Give it up." Matt speaks up making Nick laugh.

"Like I said last time, she's staying." Chris tells the viewers.

"Oh, I've also been called jobless since I don't have my own place yet." Dani adds laughing.

"You're part of a modeling company..." Matt looks at her.

"It's a very unique company that's very diverse." Nick adds.

"The shortest model is 4'7 and the tallest is 6'10. We have from a size zero to 7X and up. They also let us come up with designs for the clothing brand. I mean, you have to work your way up to get you own line in the brand, which I'm almost there." Dani explains smiling proud of herself.

"You also have that little thing on the side that's in the works." Nick adds.

"That too. It's still a secret." She agrees, "Oh, off topic slightly! And I'm sorry if it makes you guys uncomfortable, but I'm gonna make this clear for some people out there. You know who you are... My boobs are not fake! People think I paid for them. No, I'm just a 4'11 girl with DDs and a descent nice ass, which also isn't fake." Dani looks straight into the cameras, "I'm sorry but I gotta make that clear."

"Trust her!" Nick gets loud with wide eyes, "They're real."

"Nick..." Matt looks at him.

"We were playing around and if they were fake... They would've popped." Nick laughs while Matt and Chris just look at him.

"His elbow landed so hard on my boob I cried it hurt so bad." Dani gives more context to what happened.

"Is that when she didn't talk to you for a whole day?" Chris thinks back.

"Yes,"

"He kept apologizing for the whole day." Matt remembers.

"She was so upset." Nick chuckles feeling bad.

"Let my elbow land hard on you nuts. Then you would understand and ignore me too."

After the podcast while Dani was in her Chris pokes his head into her room, "You busy?" He asks her.

"Nope, just listing to music while I type. What up?" She turns to face him as he comes into her room.

"Nothing just bored." He takes a seat on her bed.

"So you came to bug me?" She laughs at him.

"Well, Nick is editing and Matt is playing Fortnite so..." He messes with his hands, "Do you wanna go out?" He asks, "I mean like to the mall and stuff?" He adds quickly.

"I knew what you meant Chris." She can't help but laugh at him as he looked embarrassed, "But yeah I wanna go."

"Great, I'm gonna go get my stuff." He rushes out to go to his room while she gets ready to go.

When she was gone she walks to Matt's room since he was the closest, "Hey," She pokes her head in so he looks over at her, "Chris and I are heading out. We'll be back later."

"Okay, have fun." He gives her a thumbs up, "Wait, where are you guys going?" He asks before she closes the door.

"He wants to go to the mall so I'm taking him." She leaves as Chris comes up his stairs ready to go.

"That's a cute shirt. New?" Chris asks as they get in her car.

"Thanks and yes. Matt bought it for me. Like how I said said the sweater would look on him he did the same with this shirt for me." She explains starting the car so Chris just nods his head.

"He knew exactly what he was doing picking that shirt..." Chris thinks to himself glancing over at her. It was a cherry print buckle lace up cami top that hugged her curves perfectly as she matched it with a jean skirt.

[lotus-pear]

Them...

[pensat-i-fet]

Jealous for a reason (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**After a couple of weeks of fluff, we got some jealous Rúben that was requested. I had an idea for this but then started to write and it all went in a completely different direction but I like it. So I hope you all enjoy it too ❤️**

Word count: 1686

Masterlist

Wattpad

"Rúben!"

"What?", he says, walking inside the room.

"Can you help me choose my outfit? I don't know what to wear".

"Sure…what about this dress? You haven't worn it recently and it looks great on you".

When you pick up the dress he mentions, you frown.

"It's a bit small on me now. I bought it before I put on some weight".

"Try it on. I'm sure it still looks perfect on you because guess what?"

"I am perfect?", you say rolling your eyes at how cheesy he could be.

"Exactly!"

So you take your shorts and top off and put the dress on. It does look amazing on you but you didn't lie. It's a bit tight on the chest area.

"See? It looks bad".

Rúben starts to stare at your cleavage which looks even bigger thanks to the size not being the perfect one for you at the moment.

"I like how it looks a lot".

"Well, it won't be just you seeing this, you know? Aren't you worried about the looks I'll get? This is a bit much for what I usually like to wear and to show".

He turns you so you can see yourself in the mirror. "If you like what you see, wear it. I'm not a jealous person, you know that".

You do like what you see, so you decide to stop overthinking and start to look for some matching shoes to wear with the dress.

                               **

The restaurant Rúben picked is amazing. And before your table is ready, you go have a little cocktail. Well, he has water and you have a cocktail. It’s the middle of the season.

“You sure you don’t want a little sip? It’s really nice”, you say, pointing the straw at him.

“Too sweet”, he grimaces after trying it.

“I like sweet”.

The waitress comes to pick you up before you are done with your drink, so you take it to the table with you.

“My colleague will be here in a second to take your orders”.

“Thank you”.

“You happy?”, asks Rúben, holding your hand.

You nod, smiling and scrunching your nose. He loves when you do that.

“Good night, may I take…no way! Hi!”

“Oh my God, Joel!”, you say, standing up and hugging the waiter, leaving Rúben very confused. “Joel, this is my boyfriend Rúben. Rúben, this is a…friend from uni. We haven’t seen each other in forever. I wish we could catch up”.

“Well, not right now or I’ll get in trouble”, he laughs, making you join him. “But I can give you my number so we can do that catching up any other time. It’s so lovely seeing you. But sit down again, I need to get your orders. And your boyfriend’s…Ron, right?”

“Rúben”, he says, starting to get annoyed.

“Yeah. So, what would you guys like to drink?”

But Rúben can tell Joel has zero interest in speaking with him. He’s too busy speaking to you. And staring at you. He could at least be a bit less obvious because everyone can tell his eyes stay on your face for two seconds before going back to your chest.

“Rúben?”, you say.

“Huh?”

“What would you like to drink?”

“Just water, please”.

“Be right back”, said Joel, winking at you.

You look down, almost hiding your smile. What the heck?

“So, who was that?”

“Joel? Um…a friend from uni”.

“Right”.

“What?”, why was he acting so weird all of a sudden?

“Did you sleep with him?”

You let out a dry laugh, rolling your eyes at the same time.

But your lack of an answer annoyed Rúben even more.

“So yes”.

“I forgot about how you were an innocent virgin when you met me. My bad”.

“It’s not that. But…would you like to meet the women I’ve been with?”

“I mean, if they meant to you the same Joel meant to me, I wouldn’t care. We used to see each other at parties and hook up. Big deal. He never even took me on a date. You can’t compare that with what we have”.

“He would love to take you on a date right now”, he mutters.

The little argument is interrupted by Joel coming back to your table with your drinks.

“Ready to order?”

“I am. Rúben?”

“Sure. I’m ready too”, he says, even though he has barely looked at the menu, so he just picks a simple dish that he should always like.

While Joel is writing down Rúben’s orders, you pick your drink again to have a sip. Rúben notices Joel has stopped writing and when he looks up from his menu, he sees him staring at you drinking from the straw and biting his lip.

“I would like some bread too”, he says, a bit loud, which catches your attention.

Joel swallows and goes back to writing down the order.

“You got it”.

You can notice Rúben’s uneasiness and can’t believe he is acting like this. So much for the guy who isn’t jealous.

“Can you stop behaving like a kid?”

“Me? This guy was eyefucking you while you sucked on that straw but I’m the problem”.

“Oh my God. He wasn’t. Stop ruining our date”.

“Like he wasn’t staring at your cleavage before. Come on!”

“I thought you didn’t mind other guys looking at it”, you tell him, still annoyed by his childish behaviour.

“I guess it’s different when it’s one that’s already slept with you and it’s trying to do it again”.

“I’m going to the toilet. Count to ten while I’m gone and relax, ok?”

Rúben stares at your disappearing figure, feeling stupid but also justified in his behaviour. And when Joel starts to come back to the table, he notices him staring at you as well.

“Where is she going?”

“None of your business”.

“Excuse me?”

“I would appreciate it if you stopped looking at my girlfriend like she’s a piece of meat you want to eat. Because that won’t happen again”, says Rúben, keeping his voice low.

“You never know. She also had a boyfriend in uni and that didn’t stop her”.

When Joel leaves, Rúben has to hold onto the table to avoid going after him. How dare he speak about you in that way?

“You feeling better?”, you ask when you sit down, ready to eat your meal.

“Yes”, he lies.

You both eat in peace since Joel doesn’t come back to bother you the whole time. But the tension is still there.

“I was really looking forward to tonight, you know?”

Your words make him feel so bad. “I’m sorry. I just…it’s not about you. It’s him. The way he’s been acting and while working too. It’s disgusting”.

“He was just being nice to an old friend, Rúben. It’s you that read too much into it”.

Rúben clearly disagrees but doesn’t say more because he doesn’t want to ruin your night even more.

After you finish your main courses, it’s time for dessert. But before you order it, you excuse yourself again to go to the bathroom. And on your way back, you find Joel who is also going to your table to ask if you wish to order anything else.

“Ready for dessert? You used to love it”, he says, in reference to your past meetings. A bit odd to say that but…he’s just being friendly. Right?

“Yes, we’ll order something. Or maybe just me. Rúben isn’t into sweet things”.

“Too bad when he’s got the sweetest girl by his side”.

You side-eye him, starting to wonder if Rúben might have been right. And then when you get to the table, he moves your chair to help you sit and you smile at him…until you notice the way his hand is touching your bare back.

“Any dessert?”

“I’ll have the lemon soufflé. Do you want anything, Rúben? You can have a bit of my dessert if you don’t want to order anything”.

“Yeah, I’ll have a bite of yours. That’s it”, he says, looking at Joel like he wants to murder him.

Once Joel is gone, you grab Rúben’s hand from the table.

“I’m sorry, you might have been right”.

“About?”

“Joel”, you say. “I guess he might be too friendly”.

“He…he also said horrible things about you. I didn’t want to bring it up before because I don’t think you would have believed me”.

“What did he say?”

“That you were sleeping with him while you had a boyfriend. So you could still do that despite dating me”.

“What?”, you say, a bit too loud. But, what the hell? “That’s not true!”

“Hey”, he says, caressing your hand. “I know you wouldn’t do that”.

But those words still hurt you. How could someone make up those types of rumours?

Rúben notices how affected you are and squeezes your hand.

“Do you want me to beat him up?”

That makes you laugh. “I rather be the one who does it”.

“I can hold him while you do it”, he suggests, bringing another smile to your face.

You then see Joel approaching with your dessert and a note.

“My number, so we can catch up”, he says and starts to leave.

“Joel, can you please come back?”

He turns, smiling at Rúben as if saying to him that his theory has been proven right. But then the smile is gone when he sees you ripping the piece of paper and putting it in his hand.

“I would appreciate it if we could have another waiter for the rest of our time here. You know, one that doesn’t make up rumours about the clients and harasses them? I’m sure you can find one before I ask to speak to your manager”.

He nods, leaving quickly.

“That was so hot”, says Rúben, making you roll your eyes.

“Did I prove to you there is no reason to be jealous, then?”

“I was jealous for a reason, you saw…”.

“You might have been angry for a reason…but the jealousy was still ridiculous. Do better next time, babes. Because I’m loving this dress and I plan on wearing it a lot”.

[legoshi-plz]

Spanking Headcanons (NSFW 18+)

A/N: Just something that randomly came to mind. Also I’ve seen the many heartwarming messages you all have sent as well as the requests and I can’t promise when I’ll get to the requests but I’ll try to be better about answering messages! 😭 Thank you all for being so patient with me, I hardly really use tumblr anymore so sometimes I forget to check on this blog and asks start to pile up but I still see them and they make me go 🥺🥺😭😭���🥰🥰

Pairing: Louis x Reader, Legoshi x Reader, Riz x Reader, Juno x Reader, Oguma x Reader

Reader is Gender Neutral!

Warning: Smut, NSFW 18+. Consensual Spanking, etc.

///////////

Louis:

- So it’s well known that Louis can be a bit sporadic at times, especially when it comes to his mood. Sometimes things do get him irrationally angry and though he’d never hit you, he does use spanking as a form of communication when he’s upset with you.

- Sits in his large armchair, pinching the bridge of his nose as he calls you over. Pats his thighs and you already know where this is heading, assuming the position.

- His spanks start off moderate, even a little stiff. Small sting, while he finds his words, telling you how you’ve upset him, how your disobedience drove him to this. You bite your lip and remain silent except for short responses (can’t see this Louis as the type to be comfortable with you calling him ‘sir’ or ‘daddy’, so just a direct ‘yes’, ‘no’ etc. is fine with him.), trying to hide your anticipation of what’s next to come and the arousal bubbling in the lower pit of your abdomen.

- Once he’s said everything he has to say, then that’s when his hands begin to.... wander.

- His hand dips between your thighs and he feels how aroused you are instantly. His other hand is under your shirt, slowly rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers, just enough to pebble them but not enough pressure to really get you off.

- He’ll have you trembling in his laps between spanks of increasing ferocity until he feels you’re wound up enough and then he just... stops.

- “That’s enough, you’re dismissed,” his own voice is strained and you can tell from the hard member pressing into your stomach that you aren’t the only one depraved.

- But when he stops, that’s when the real ‘punishment’ begins. Leaves you unbelievably horny and doesn’t fuck you until he feels you truly deserve it (usually the next day, his resolve isn’t that strong.)

Legoshi:

- Only spanks you because you like it. Found out you liked it by surprise. He was coming up behind you in the kitchen of your shared apartment (established couple AU) and landed a quick smack to your ass while he was half asleep. The half-gasp, half-moan you let out right after had him at full attention immediately.

- Will land a random smack on your ass while the two of you are cuddled up watching TV because he likes the way you jump slightly then snuggle into him more.

- Will also take full advantage of the access he has when you ride him and alternates between heavy taps to gripping your cheeks between his huge hands.

- He mostly does it to get your attention or, in the case of sex, for you to keep your eyes on him. Would never slap your ass hard enough to hurt but he is enamored by the response it garners from you and likes to explore that.

Riz:

- Shows your ass zero mercy.

- He’s naturally an ass man so he’s always on yours in some shape or form, whether that’s making you sit in his lap, massaging it while you lounge on top of him, or grinding into it in the early hours of the morning with his sleepy erection.

- Has a thing for the 69 position because he loves being about to finger you with your ass right in his face. Sometimes will even refuse to let you go down on him because he wants your full attention on the pleasure he’s giving you.

- Doesn’t spank for punishment unless you’re being completely unreasonable, and even then he only uses it as an excuse to get you over his lap because a few smacks in, he’s going straight to pleasuring you, seeing how many times he can get you off before you’re apologizing and begging him to stop.

- However, the few slaps he does get in HURT. He’s quite heavy handed and doesn’t know his own strength sometimes. You really have to tell him to slow down sometimes because he’s not always aware of it.

Juno:

- Completely into spanking when it comes to role play.

- Juno is a very thorough actress and she loves applying her skills to the bedroom. Naughty schoolgirl, sexy nurse, horny police officer, naive princess, you name it, you two have tried it in the bedroom.

- Juno is usually the one being spanked because she’s much better at staying in character and carrying the scene than you are however that doesn’t mean she doesn’t make you work for it. She’s pretty strong naturally so her pain tolerance is out of this world and she really likes you to push limits.

- That being said, she’s always up for being versatile and turning you into a blabbering mess over her knee. However, she’s so naturally good at doming that she always usually makes quick work of you. Though you don’t last long, she doesn’t mind. She’s more excited for the aftercare anyway!

Oguma:

- The King of Spanking. Something about this man just exudes power and he carries that same aura into the bedroom (or any place you two do it.)

- Very much the ‘stop and fuck you here right here, right now’ type. The two of you are in the kitchen? He’s pushing you against the counter, kicking your legs apart, and smacking your ass for you to take off your clothes. At a public venue? He’s dragging you to the nearest bathroom and fucking you within an inch of your life. But his favorite way to put you in your place is in his office.

- Will (dramatically) sweep everything off his desk and bend you over the cold mahogany wood, your ass exposed to him and gently brushing against his sizable erection.

- “Don’t think you can sweet talk your way out of this one.” Spanks you methodically just between the point of pain and pleasure. Makes you count each slap. Fingers your entrance mercilessly between spanks to rile you up but eventually allows you to cum.

- Once you’re all fucked out on his desk, he lifts you up and flips you over on your back. His member is hard as ever and leaking precum untouched. Proceeds to fuck you so profoundly, he nearly breaks his desk. Again.

[kpopmakesmeweep]

badboy!yeonjun x innocent!reader 

word count: 21k

angst, fluff, smut

when your teacher asked you to tutor in the beginning of the school year, you were hesitant even then. 

you knew that it meant your lunch period and one study hall for the day were gonna be completely booked, helping younger kids grasp the basic idea that the mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell.

but then you met one young girl desperate to pass her first test in october and knew your teacher had gotten you, sending a small, defeated smile her way as you gave her the okay to put your name on the list. 

you didn’t expect to come back from winter break with the news that the next student you’d be tutoring wasn’t a sweet 7th grade girl but none other than choi yeonjun. 

the overwhelmingly attractive but horribly intimidating boy who was a year older than you and had, quite possibly, one of the worst reputations the school has ever seen.

if he wasn’t getting suspended for fighting or smoking on school grounds, you’d attempt to block out the mindless gossip about him and all the college girls he’d frequently fraternize with. 

he was in your lunch period when you were a sophomore and he was a junior and you couldn’t help but be fascinated by how handsome he was. how he carried himself and how everyone else seemed to be fascinated by him too.

he was always wearing some variation of black, like his closet was just an empty void of black leather, dark cotton and chains. if he didn’t have on a beanie or hat, his then blue hair was a mess of waves that always made you look a few seconds too long.

you’ll never forget the day that he caught you, your nose in a textbook as you studied for a midterm before a loud shout of his name caught your attention. 

you looked up and watched one of his friends playfully punch him in the arm, something about him hooking up with the older girl he had his eye on first and yeonjun only smirking at him devilishly. 

he didn’t look apologetic or regretful in the slightest, more so like he’d do again just because he could and just because he knew the girl would be eager to have another go with him. 

your breath caught in your throat when his deep brown eyes met yours, his head cocked as he held your gaze with all the confidence and smugness you could never have. 

it took his lips quirking into a cocky smile for you to snap out of it, cheeks warming and stomach churning at getting caught before you dropped your gaze right back down to your book.

it was a quick and thorough reminder that this is where you feel comfortable and this is where you belong - with your nose in a book and your mind on your studies. 

you’ve always intended to just get through high school with good grades and minimal distractions, a small (almost non-existent) friend group that left you able to make straight a’s and work a small, part-time job.

you’d done a pretty good job of that thus far, no bad boys covered in all black and sliver chains to show you that, maybe, getting out of your comfort zone isn’t such a bad thing after all.  

you met yeonjun during your 7th period study hall a week later than intended, him not showing up to either of the periods your teacher informed you both last week. 

you weren’t surprised in the slightest but also wouldn’t dare tattle on him, simply dodging the questions from your teacher or giving her a polite smile and cryptic answer. 

but you couldn’t even stop the way your eyes widened when the library door opened and he was making his way toward you, black beanie placed on his head along with a dark shirt tight across his chest paired with gray sweatpants that made you bite down on your lip.

his hair was pink now, long with a slight wave to it that looked all too soft and inviting to touch; the color probably shouldn’t work on anyone but, of course, it works on him. 

devastatingly attractive in a way that doesn’t seem fair nor human. 

he hasn’t said a word to you, he wasn’t even within six feet of you yet, but you were already scared shitless. you already didn’t trust yourself to be around him and not make a bumbling fool of yourself. 

a pretty smirk crossed his face when he stood in front of you, looking down at you with a playful look in his eye that was far too mocking and sinister. 

“hey. y/n, right?”

you never would’ve pictured this man saying (or even knowing) your name, nor him looking at you so willingly and intensely, but you have to quickly snap yourself out of it. 

this was as professional a relationship could be between two students and you really had to get it together. 

“hi, yes... that’s me,” you say softly. 

so softly that you’re not even sure he can hear it but you can, unfortunately, hear the tremor in your own voice and it’s nothing but absolute embarrassment. 

he happens to like it though, if the way his eyes light up and his smirk widens tells you anything. 

“i’m yeonjun.”

“i know.”

you say the statement far too quickly and it causes your face to warm, your mouth hanging open as the amusement continues to build behind his eyes; you can see with your own that the boy is too handsome for his own good but something tells you he’s probably far too charming as well. 

“i mean... we were supposed to meet last week,” you attempt to clarify.

it seems like a good save, something to make, both, your embarrassment lessen slightly and for him to know you’re aware that he missed the two sessions last week. 

but it doesn’t seem to work, the boy sitting down across from you with all the confidence and smoothness in the world. he leans in closer and you hold your breath, horribly lonely and touch-starved heart fluttering in your chest. 

“i know, sorry about that,” he says, a genuineness in his voice that you can’t help but question. “i was busy with some things.”

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, not even wanting to think about what kind of things keeps a man like him busy.

your teeth sinks into your bottom lip nervously and you can just feel his eyes burning into you, moving across your pink face and down to your soft white sweater; it makes you look every bit as innocent as he’s presumed you to be and he can’t say it doesn’t make him smile. 

“and yet, the teacher didn’t say anything to me about missing.”

you meet his eyes at his questioning tone, so scrutinizing and intense that you feel very grateful about your decision not to blow up his spot; you don’t even wanna know what he looks like when he’s angry. 

or maybe you do, some darker and suppressed part of yourself thinks. 

“that’s because i didn’t tell her,” you say quietly, a lump forming in your throat that you’re trying desperately to push down. “i didn’t wanna....” 

you almost say tattle and you think your face wold turn an unnatural shade of red if that silly word left your mouth in front of him.

so you meekly and sweetly decide on, “i didn’t wanna get you in trouble,” a smile gracing his face that almost makes you feel like you’d done a good job or something. 

and how ridiculous does that sound? you did a good job for the older, delinquent boy - you don’t know what’s gotten into you. 

maybe his smile and his eyes and just the way he’s looking at you is making you feel as if you’re actually something to look at - you’ve never really been observed the way he’s observing you. 

a deep, melodic chuckle leaving his mouth causes you to swallow nervously, watching him with a blank expression because you’re not sure if he’s laughing at you or with you.

your heart stutters when he leans back to stretch, his arm squeezing at the back of his neck; it takes everything in you not to watch his arm flex.

“how’d i know you were a good girl, hm?”

your eyes widen at his words, stomach swooping in a way that’s only ever happened when you watch couples on tv or read about a romance in books. 

because it’s not only his words, it’s the way he carries himself. the way he’s looking at you and speaking to you, the way you never thought anyone would - let alone him. 

he must mistake your utter...shock and fascination for confusion, eyes wide and cheeks flushed and he suddenly wants to place his hand on your cheek. 

see if it’s as warm and soft as it appears to be in this very moment.

“you were in my lunch last year, no?” he hums, looking directly at you with zero ounce of fear and ever bit of confidence. “always with a textbook or writing something.”

he doesn’t remember all the girls that gawk at him but he remembered you immediately. 

caught your gaze early last year and saw something flicker in your eyes, a soft and innocent fascination he wasn’t used to seeing but immediately made him wanna ruin you - he wanted to ruin you and he didn’t even know you. 

he just knew that he’d watch you sometimes, discreetly and quickly, but enough to get his fix.

when he entered the cafeteria and made sure you were sitting there with your your face buried in a book. 

when you’d get up to buy lunch or a bottle of water, pull down your skirt or adjust your hair in a way that made him wanna touch you in a similar fashion.

when you’d leave five minutes early (in what he fantasized was so you wouldn’t be late) and send him one last glance. feel your soft, hesitant gaze on his face and meet it carelessly at the very last second.

just enough to watch you get shy and see the blush so similar to now cross your cheeks. 

he didn’t know your name and he, truthfully, never intended on learning it. because as much as he wanted to truly ruin you, he knew that’s all it was - a dark, twisted fantasy that someone like him shouldn’t act on. 

but then when he walked in and saw you here, the tutor he was dreading to meet in such a familiar position, he knew immediately that you were her. 

the cute girl from his lunch he wasn’t sure was an angel he wanted to protect or someone he wanted to fuck the shit out of. 

you weren’t sure what to think right now, not wanting to get your hopes up or think too much into his question - you were in my lunch last year, no?

think that you were special and he remembers you for reasons far too fantastical so you only nod, figuring he could be taking a guess; there’s only three lunch periods after all. 

“yeah. your hair was blue.”

a smirk crosses his face, chest warming at the fact you remembered him (even though the cocky, confident part inside of him knew you would). 

“yes it was,” he confirms, smiling down at you in a way that makes your heart jump and pound even more. ”i was hoping you’d remember. because i knew i recognized you from somewhere.”

you don’t know how you’re gonna do this. you can barely look at him, how are you supposed to talk to him and teach him twice a week and actually-

“i do wanna ask you something else though.”

your eyebrows pull together at the slight change in his voice, cocking your head to the side as you look at him.

he’s leaning in a little closer now, tiny pink strands hanging from his beanie as his brown eyes bore into yours. there’s still some amusement twinged in his eyes but it all looks very deceptive, unnerving a part of you that your stupid little heart is ignoring. 

he doesn’t allow you to ask him what before he starts talking again. 

“how about we keep these sessions the way they’ve been?” 

your eyebrow raises as confusion continues to plague you; your sessions haven’t even started? 

you haven’t even taught him anything, what could he possibly- but it’s the moment he opens his mouth to speak again, you realize that’s exactly the point. 

“you tell the teacher i’m coming to these and i’ll tell her what a good job you’re doing. how much i’m learning from you and shit.”

a smirk crosses his face when he peers into your eyes, catching the nervous, unsure look in them that only makes his smirk widen - you really are too cute. 

you, on the other hand, don’t know how you feel about his suggestion; you just know how you feel about lying. 

it doesn’t sit well with you and you don’t wanna get in trouble. 

the teacher has a class during this period so it’s not like she’d come down and check but it still makes you incredibly queasy. 

and if he needed tutoring in the first place, he obviously needs help. he’s a senior and needs to keep his grades up so he can graduate. it’d be your fault if he didn’t pass and you’d hate to be the reason he gets-

movement in front of you causes your thoughts to immediately stop, body freezing as you watch him lift his arm and bring his hand to your head. 

he moves a strand of hair from your face before smoothing out the slight crease in your forehead, biting down on his lip when he feels your skin is just as soft and smooth as he suspected. 

“what are you thinking so hard about?”

the deep, low tone of his voice and inquisitive look on his face is dangerous, almost as dangerous as the frantic beating of your heart and the way it’s about to pound out of your chest. 

it’s like he has electric sparks shooting from his hand, making you feel extremely exposed and vulnerable even though his touch is quite gentle and innocent.

“i.... it’s just....” you stutter out, taking a deep breath because you know you need to get it together fast. “you’ve been having trouble, right? that’s... why you needed tutoring in the first place.”

his eyebrow quirks up at your comment and for a split second, you think you’ve offended him. 

“i don’t want you to fail, yeonjun.”

he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on your words, realize that no one has so openly and sweetly said that to him before. or even cared enough to tell him that they don’t want him to fail.

he knows the teachers and counselors get him help because it’s their job. 

he knows his parents bitch and complain about it because they don’t want him repeating high school or wasting their money. 

he knows anyone who says anything to him about it is just doing it to make themselves look like a good person or friend. 

but you just so openly and sweetly said it, a deep concern in your eyes that he knows he can’t dwell on or his similar feelings are gonna arise from last year’s lunch.

where he’s about to throw caution to the wind and do anything and everything he wants to someone as innocent and sweet as you; but he can’t do that and he knows it, he knows that’s why these session can’t happen - on top of the fact that it’s not only you. 

he smokes during lunch and into this period. 

and there’s just no fucking way he’s spending that time suppressing his predatory attraction to you while learning about shit he doesn’t understand and being high as a kite. 

“you don’t gotta worry about me, angel,” he hums lowly, the name falling so naturally and smoothly from his mouth, he doesn’t even realize. “just do that for me, yeah? then you’ll have 7th free.”

you don’t hear much after he calls you angel, just that he’s asking you to do something for him and you’re blindly and dumbly nodding because he just called you that.

and it’s not until he smiles and thanks you deeply, looking over your face once more before saying that he’ll see you around that you realize you’re alone. 

sitting there as you watch yeonjun walk out the door without a glance back and come to terms with the fact you just agreed to lie to your teacher for him.

for almost a month, you were able to keep it up.

it was terrifying and debilitating and it almost sent you into a full blown identity crisis, but you’d somehow managed to do it.

that was until this afternoon, when your teacher cut through the cafeteria during lunch with a cup of coffee in hand and suspicion in the pit of her stomach. 

she saw you sitting there alone, your own books sprawled out around you as you wrote down notes before her short call of your name had your head snapping up. 

her eyes watching you quizzically made your own widen, stomach sinking and heart starting to pound as he she made her way over to you. 

“hi, y/n. where’s yeonjun today? it’s wednesday.”

the period only began ten minutes ago so it wouldn’t be weird for you to say that he wasn’t here yet. that he got held up after class and would be on his way shortly.

but you were just nervous and so bad at lying that you blurted out that he left to go to the bathroom, her eyes roaming the table in what you could only assume was for his books. 

“he took his backpack with him,” you tell her quietly, smiling softly in an effort to hide your guilt and distress. she only hums softly before nodding her head, taking your word for it because why wouldn’t she?

you’re good and studious and wouldn’t ever lie to a teacher.

but then when she comes down to the library next week during 7th period with her class, catching you at the table by yourself, you do it again. 

look her in the face and panic, make a scene of collecting your books as you tell her you forgot you guys were meeting in the cafeteria today - placing the blame on yourself.

you spent the rest of the period in the bathroom, collecting your thoughts and attempting to calm yourself down because you can’t keep lying. 

you haven’t even talked to yeonjun since the first time you met in the library, only seeing him in passing in the hallway or after school. 

he’ll send you a nod paired with his signature smirk and you’ll send him a small smile back, dipping your head before your cheeks flush at the mere sight of his eyes. 

you wish you hadn’t agree to this. 

you wish he didn’t effect you so much and you wish you could tell him you either need to actually help him or tell the teacher he doesn’t want to, because you’re losing your mind. 

you’re anxious and upset and not feeling good about yourself, barely able to look your teacher in the face these days. 

it’s on a friday before lunch, the bell ringing ready to dismiss you from her class, that it all comes crashing down.

she asked you to stay behind for a moment, everything about her face calm and neutral as you made your way over to her desk. 

you were anything but calm as you stood before her, that familiar feeling of dread and guilt rushing in your stomach as you smiled softly at her and asked if everything was okay. 

“yes, i just wanted to say what a great job you’re doing with yeonjun.”

you don’t even know what your face looks like but you know it’s probably the face of someone incredibly guilty, being praised for something you haven’t been doing and taking credit for it even though you know it’s wrong.

the feeling in your stomach confirms all of those feelings, tight and fluttery and buzzing with upset.

“o-oh?” 

“yeah,” she smiles tightly, looking over your face before speaking again. “we just took our third test and he did great. in the low 90s.”

a part of you desperately hopes that to be true, that maybe he started applying himself and somehow started to grasp the material all on his own. you smile at the thought that that’s the case, nodding your head as you, against your better judgment, keep up the facade. 

“i’m happy for him. he’s been working very hard. w-we studied at our last session for it, actually, and he really seemed to be understanding it.”

the contemplative look she gave you should���ve been the first sign that she knew you were full of shit, a quiet hum leaving her mouth. she holds your gaze until the moment you drop it, looking down at your white sneakers until she calls your name softly. 

“y/n... why have you been lying to me?” 

your lips press together as tears prick your eyes, all of the guilt and shame rushing through you at once. 

“he failed his test and i know you guys haven’t been meeting.”

she knows that because you can’t lie. she knows that because yeonjun still doesn’t know anything and all of the students she’s recommended to you have passed with flying colors. 

she knows because when you look up at her, your lip is trembling and it looks like you’re about to burst into tears.

“i... i’m so sorry.”

but even then, even after this moment right here, you’re still not gonna tell on yeonjun. because you don’t want him getting in trouble and you’re not gonna try to excuse your own behavior by admitting you agreed to it. 

you’re just as at fault as the older boy and you’re not gonna pretend you’re not. 

“why have you been lying? you could’ve just told me if you didn’t feel comfortable tutoring him or it wasn’t working out.”

because she knows yeonjun’s reputation. she knows he’s a year older and that you’re one of the shyer students in her class. she was hesitant at first to even put you two together but thought you’d be able to get through to him. 

and because you don’t know what to say, how to make up an excuse that puts neither of you at fault, you don’t say anything. just continue to apologize with teary eyes and a shaky voice before she eventually lets out a sigh. 

“take the next few days to figure it out. try to work on it with him or come to me and be honest that it’s not gonna work. but you didn’t have to lie to me, y/n. i’m a little disappointed in you.”

those words hit you harder than you care to admit, more tears building as you nod your head and quickly leave the room.

you knew from the beginning that it was wrong.

you never felt good about it and you knew it was bad but you still took part in it. she has every right to be disappointed in you and it feels like everything you worked so hard for has been ruined. 

now you look like a liar who can’t be trusted. 

now any time you tell her about another fellow student you’re working with, like the 7th grader you got through to or the 9th grader you helped get an a on their test, she’s gonna wonder if you really did that.

if you really helped them or if you’re just lying about that, too. telling them the answers to their homework or lazily explaining the concepts to them like you don’t work hard with each and every one of them. 

you’re surprised to see yeonjun when you make it to lunch a few moments later, your stomach still in knots and left over tears in your eyes. 

you don’t even realize you’re standing in front of his table until you hear one of his friend’s deep voices, a brash “who are you?” not even filling you with fear. 

you’re only looking at yeonjun pathetically, wide teary eyes and pouty lips in an effort to hold back more tears.

yeonjun’s dressed in his usual attire but you can’t even focus on that, his pink hair flawless against his black shirt and chain hanging around his neck as he adjusts it carelessly. 

soobin’s words catch his attention before your appearance does, looking at the front of the table and taking in the sight of wide, teary eyes and pouty lips; it pulls at something in his chest more than he cares to admit.

“yeonjun, can i talk to you for a second?” 

your voice is wobbly and timid and everything about it so incredibly embarrassing, the tears in your eyes obvious to all the young men around the table. 

you probably look like some girl he slept with and then left on read, begging him for another chance because your heart can’t take not being with him. because you got attached and now it feels like you need him. 

but, really, you just need him to let you tutor him. 

you can’t disappoint the teacher anymore and you had a job to do with him; you should’ve never told him that lying would be okay. 

“who’s this?” his friend asks with a smirk, his hair a bright shade of purple that looks striking next to yeonjun’s. 

“no one,” yeonjun’s quick to snap, looking at you before quickly getting up and guiding you out of the cafeteria by the small of your back. 

he walks down a secluded hallway and out to the garden of the school, looking at the tears in your eyes and feeling himself frown. 

“what happened?”

“i... she found out we haven’t been meeting,” you mumble, feeling silly and childish for crying in front of him about something like this; but you can’t help how you feel, you can’t help feeling sad and guilty about all of this. 

your heart drops when he actually smirks at you, looking over your face with a gaze that’s just as soft as it is amused.

you’re almost positive he’s about to laugh at you, call you a loser for crying over something as juvenile as getting caught in a silly lie and hurt your feelings even more. 

but then you’re quickly stiffening when his hand reaches up, gently brushing at your tears and marveling in just how soft your skin is. 

“that’s why you’re crying?” 

you’re embarrassed to say the least, any words you’d use to justify your reaction caught in your throat - and the smirk on his face isn’t helping either.

“you’re too pretty to cry over stupid shit like that, y/n.”

“it’s not stupid,” you respond, voice shaky and demeanor meek but still able to talk back. 

because it’s not stupid to you. wanting to be nice and studious and a good person isn’t stupid. not wanting to be a liar or someone who goes back on their word isn’t stupid. 

“she trusted me to help you and i lied to her.”

“we lied to her,” he says, voice and eyes teasing as he bends down to be on your level. you think he’s trying to make you feel better, a soft playfulness on his face that does anything but.

because you aren’t like him. 

you aren’t cool and feared and you can’t not care about how you effect other people. 

“why didn’t you just tell her it was my idea?” he asks suddenly, his eyes roaming your face in such a gentle but curious way. “she probably already knows that.”

“i... i didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

he rises to his full height as a small smile crosses his face, your soft voice and sweet words again effecting him far too much. he shouldn’t feel this way toward you and he shouldn’t want to be tutored now.

he shouldn’t be reaching out to touch the smooth skin of your cheek, a few stray tears making his lips fall into the smallest of frowns as you hear his voice the softest it’s ever been. 

“i wouldn’t get in trouble, angel.”

and there’s that word again. making your wet eyes widen and stomach to flutter, wondering how and why that simple word sounds so nice leaving his mouth. 

maybe because you’ve never been called that before. 

could only imagine being called that by someone, let alone him, in such a way. or maybe it’s because it is him, the boy you watched for months on end, forever fascinated by the way he carried himself. 

or maybe it’s because-

“but even if i did, how’s that your problem? why would you care?”

it’s a fair question you suppose but it doesn’t stop you from licking at your lips nervously, an all too familiar (and embarrassing) blush warming your cheeks. 

“i mean... it’s not,” you mutter shyly, not sure if you’re more intimidated by him calling you out or the look on his face. 

but even with those feelings, you’re still able to meet his gaze. 

take in the deep, dark intensity staring back at you in his brown eyes. they’re softer than one would expect, almost soft enough to make you forget what you were wanting to say. 

“but it’s just as much my fault as it is yours. so it didn’t seem fair.”

he smirks so he doesn’t say anything too brash, looking over the blush on your cheeks. his hand itches to move your hair behind your ear, a move he’d always do because he knew it was charming. 

knew it’d get him laid and get a girl’s heart fluttering.

but now he wants to do it just to touch you, feel your hair and skin and watch the blush on your cheeks deepen; but before he can do anything, he’s surprised to hear you speak anything.

“but it’s also not fair to keep lying,” you say softly, a broken little smile crossing your face as you look at him. “i actually really hated the lying... so if you don’t wanna do the sessions, i’m gonna tell her it’s not gonna work for us. but if you change your mind, i’m still free during those periods.”

at that moment, he had every intention of telling you no. 

he didn’t wanna give up his free time and energy to learn about things he’s absolutely sure he’s never gonna need to know after this. 

he didn’t wanna sit through the sessions high or not get high at all, the only way he’s able to cope with the last period of the school day knowing that he could roll a joint in his car with soobin. 

he didn’t wanna resist his obvious attraction and borderline fascination with you, act on it in a way he knows you’re not ready for and in a way he shouldn’t.

but when he walked in the library on monday, the time he told you he’d get back to you, you looked up and smiled at him. it was such a small, quick smile but everything about it called to him.

the twinge in your eyes and the way your hair fell, how even though your smile was small, it lit up your face and made you the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in his life.

at that moment, you were positive he was about to tell you no.

that thanks but no thanks, he’s absolutely not gonna spend his free period being tutored by a younger student who only stutters and blushes in his presence. 

but when he sat down in front of you, a smirk on his face and eyebrow quirked, you couldn’t even hold back your look of surprise. 

a deep chuckle left his mouth when he caught your expression, the sound one of the best noises you’ve ever heard.  

“what? did you think i wasn’t coming back, angel?”

it took you a month to see yeonjun was just as confident and just as much trouble as you’d expected. 

he was far too charming and attractive and funny, a sarcasm and wit in him that made you muffle your giggles like a middle school girl. 

you weren’t used to talking playfully with the people you tutored, always so focused on getting the work done and making sure you were doing a good job explaining the material for them.

but yeonjun always made sure to delay it, attempt to get to know you before you could even discuss his homework or review sheet; and even though it hasn’t been easy, he’s been persistent in breaking down that wall you put up.

“did the flashcards help or do you think you’re more of a-”

“why don’t you ever go out?”

you suppress the urge to let out a sigh as you turn to look at him, his expressive eyes looking over your face.

you’ve gotten used to the feel of his gaze on you, almost like it was burning into your skin and leaving you exposed to the bone, but it didn’t help when you made eye contact.

looked into his eyes and saw him looking back at you so confidently and so easily, you couldn’t help but feel flustered.

“what do you mean?”

you know exactly what he means but it’s the only thing you could think to say.  

you know more than anyone how much time you spend alone in your room, watching tv series and reading books and reorganizing until you don’t even recognize your own space.

but it’s not that you’re bothered by it, that’s what you like going. not going out isn’t something you find bad or upsetting.

“i mean i see people from your grade at our parties a lot,” he hums lowly, his eyes leaving yours only to look at the soft, pastel pink material of your sweater.

“but you’re never there,” he continues, looking at you and cocking his head to the side questioningly. “why’s that?”

“well, i’m not...invited, i guess,” you mumble out, ignoring the way your cheeks warm even more. “i like sticking to myself. and staying home.”

the words and your tone bring a pout to his face, your eyebrow raising at the sight. why is looking at you like that?

“well now you have an invite,” he says, a teasing smile crossing his face. “come to my friend’s party tonight. soobin, do you know him? he has the purple hair?”

his voice is far too sweet and soft compared to the look in his eye, teasing and flirty and reminding you of just how dangerous he is. how he’s capable of having so many different sides, he nearly gives you whiplash. 

he’s the bad boy everyone thinks of him to be, skipping class and getting high and ditching tutoring lessons by smiling too kindly at a mousy little tutor. 

he’s the play boy you see come out when he looks at you a second too long, bringing a blush to your cheeks and stirring something very unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach. 

but then he has a softer side you see sometimes, like when he decided to do these lessons in the first place because you cried to him and made yourself look even more pathetic. 

“i’m happy you decided to do these,” you say to him quietly. 

it was only your second session but you wanted him to know you were supportive of his decision. that, even if your word meant nothing (because, really, who are you to him?), you were proud of him.

it’s not easy for a senior to give up a period or two to learn about things they don’t understand; you probably wouldn’t wanna do it either, if school and learning didn’t come naturally to you. 

but for whatever reason, he agreed to do it.

“oh?” he hums, the trademark smirk on his face causing your cheeks to warm.

“yeah,” you smile softly, nodding your head before looking down at your clasped fingers. “i just... wanted you to know that. i understand why you didn’t want to but i think it’ll be good for-”

“why do you think i didn’t want to?” 

you look at him and for a split second you’re scared that you offended him. you suppose you don’t really know him well enough to make an assumption about him but you just assumed he-

“or, you know what, no,” he says, shaking his head as he pushes his chair closer to yours. 

he leans over the desk the same way he did during your first meeting last month, bringing your faces closer until you can smell cologne and the faint stench of cigarettes. 

“i wanna hear why you think i changed my mind?”

you quirk an eyebrow as you look at him, staring blankly until you realize he just plans on doing the same. 

“well... i guess it’s because you wanted to do good, right?” you ask meekly, unsure why he changed his mind but knowing that you were happy he did. “and maybe you didn’t wanna disappoint the teacher.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth that has butterflies erupting in your stomach, watching as he shakes his head and meets your gaze again. 

“is that no it?” you ask bravely, your wide eyes and confused look causing his own stomach to do flips. “what’s so funny?”

but he’s quick to push it down, reach over to ruffle your hair in a way that makes your eyebrows pull together. 

“nothing, angel,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming yours. you see the exact moment there’s s witch behind them, a flirty and darker front he puts up melting into a soft, vulnerable look.

“but thank you for telling me that. because i’m happy i’m doing them, too.”

he has yet to tell you the reason all these weeks later, probably because you wouldn’t dare ask again, but whatever it was, must’ve greatly inspired him.

because over these weeks, he’s really been putting in the work. writing notes and listening to you and asking questions when he’s not making you blush or inviting you out just for you to decline. 

“so...?” he asks, a charismatic smile stretching across his face as he looks at you awaitingly. “what do you say? you wanna come?”

“no, thank you,” you smile politely, feeling bad for downright denying it but the offer feeling far too similiar to cliche movies you’ve watched. where the popular boy invites the nerd to a party and everyone laughs at her, questions why the hell she’s here and pulls some stupid, immature prank on her.

but this isn’t a movie and you don’t think you even have the capacity to show your face there, nor would anyone care that much to target you. 

dismissing him is easier than really considering you hanging out with him outside of this library. seeing him in a different setting and allowing him to see a different side of you.

not you looking at him pleadingly, your eyes moving to the paper in front of him as you ask him to do the next question.

“i’ll do it if you come tomorrow night,” he says, a sigh leaving your mouth as you look at him in frustration.

“yeonjun...”

because if there’s another thing you’ve learned about yeonjun, it’s that he knows you have trouble saying no to him. it could because he sees the naivety in you, seeing something good in him at times and thinking you’ll really be able to help him.

but maybe he hopes you can help him, too. be a person he can lean on and know 100% is gonna be there for him. 

“c’mon, y/n, don’t you wanna have a little fun?”

“i don’t think i’d find it fun,” you mutter honestly, a pout forming on your lips that has him swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone as much as he wants to kiss you in this moment.

just brush his lips gently against yours, hear the little sounds and see your reactions that he knows will be the best thing he’s ever had. hold your waist and feel your skin against his that while it’s juvenile to him would be so much to you. 

“you don’t know until you try, y/n,” he mutters lowly, looking up at him and seeing his gaze is, as usual, unrelenting. “have you ever been to a party before?”

of course you’ve been to parties before; birthday parties, graduation parties, wedding parties - but you’ve never been to a high school house party. 

and are you about to tell him that? absolutely not. 

“of course i have,” you mumble, a smirk on his lips because he can tell by the way you avert eye contact that you’re lying. “but it’s just... especially with kids from school who i don’t know? i don’t think it’d be fun, yeonjun.”

“but i’d be there?” he whines, something very uncharacteristic of someone who is known to be a bad boy. “isn’t that fun enough?”

you let out a groan as you frown again, tapping the notebook in front of you lightly as you meet his close gaze. 

“your test is next week, yeonjun. can you please focus on that right now?” 

it’s not until the next session that he thinks to use that to his advantage, supposing he can stand one more party without your presence as he smiles over at you. 

“let’s make a deal, angel.”

you know when he calls you that that you’re not about to talk about school or his test, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“if i get 100 on my test next week, you come to one of soobin’s party.”

you have to suppress a groan at the way he’s not letting up on this damn party, biting down on your lip as you do your best to give him a serious look.

“you should get the 100 because you want to, not because you’re trying to-”

his finger on your lips is the next thing you’re only able to focus on.

not the pounding of your heart or increasing anxiety at the thought of a party or  the fact that there’s more people in the library than usual today. 

you’re only aware of him touching you, a quiet “sh,” leaving his mouth that has your stomach fluttering far more than you care to admit. 

he meets your wide-eyed gaze and smirks at the look on your face. his finger presses down on your bottom lip gently, dragging it slowly and watching as it pops back up. 

there’s an almost pained look in his eyes that you can’t make out, his eyes never moving from your lips before meeting your gaze again. 

“i want a lot of things, y/n,” he says, his voice deep and gruff and making your heart pound even more as he looks to your mouth again. 

you feel your lower stomach swoop at the way he bites down on his bottom lip, his other hand ghosting over to rest of your knee. 

your uniform skirt comes just above your knees, becoming higher when you sit and perfectly exposing your tight covered legs. his large hand rests on your knee like it completely belongs there, like he’s gonna dare anyone to tell him it doesn’t belong there and to take his hands off you.  

“things i probably shouldn’t tell you yet so your pretty little face doesn’t become beat red,” he mumbles in your ear, his warm breath fanning onto your skin and making a shaky, embarrassing sigh leave your mouth.  

but just him realizing that makes your cheeks flush. everything about his closeness and his words and the way he’s just saying these things to you right in the middle of the library. 

the way his hand is slipping inside of your knee, fingers resting on the inside of your thigh that has some dirty, repressed part of you desperate to spread your legs just a little bit more for him.

feel more of his skin on you and heighten the feeling building in your lower half. 

“but i can assure you, none of them are an on my test. but if that means getting you to spend time with me outside of this fucking hellhole, i’m gonna do it.”

just as fast as his hand was on your thigh, it’s gone and cupping your face. holding on to your jaw as he makes you look at him and has a look of softness and amusement but also darkness and arousal. 

it probably has every bit to do with the fact you let out a tiny squeal when he did so, your eyes widening and legs now spreading apart ever so slightly. 

“do you understand now?” 

you should have the power here being his tutor but you don’t. you’re the cat and he’s the mouse, you’re the prey and he’s the predator and you’re not about to do anything to stop it. 

“ye-yes yeonjun,” you say, a groan almost leaving his mouth at you how compliant you are already. 

and it’s that reaction right there that has him skipping the party on friday and spending his weekend doing something he never thought he’d do his senior year - making flashcards and studying his ass off. 

you remember being incredibly proud when, two weeks later, yeonjun came to your session with his graded test paper in hand. 

he looked happy and accomplished and ready to take on the world, a warm feeling blooming in your chest at the look on his face.

“how’d you do?” you smiled up at him, your eyes soft and expression excited.

when he flipped the test over to reveal his 100% test, your first instinct was to raise your hand for a high five. it’s what you always did with the younger kids, praising them and sharing their excitement over a test that they worked incredibly hard on.

so when you did the same thing to him, quickly realizing he’s not one of your 7th grade students but an absurdly attractive man, your cheeks flushed and you stuttered out a “sorry.”

but he only chuckled lightly and high-fived you immediately, lacing your fingers from across the table before you could pull away. the action caught you off guard more than your nerdy high-five, eyes looking down to your conjoined hands before you gave him an incredulous look.

“what are you doing?” you squeak out, fearing that your hand’s about to get clammy and your heart may explode.

“don’t tell me you don’t remember our deal?”

you realized before you even entered soobin’s house that you made a grave mistake. 

music was pounding through the open windows of the house and a few people were littered across the lawn. a drunken couple sloppily making out while another one fought about someone dancing with a stranger all before ten p.m.

you truly intended on never coming, telling yeonjun you seriously could not go through with this and had to flake out on your deal. 

but he’d been so proud of his test. not just because it meant you were coming but because it showed him he was actually capable - or at least, that was the story he told you.

and whether you were silly and naive to believe him was on you since now, you’re walking into a party looking like someone’s holding a weapon to your back. 

“so i’ll see you tonight, right?” 

you were still hesitant even during 7th period this afternoon, looking at yeonjun with a pained expression. 

“yeonjun... i really don’t know if i can do it.”

“why not? i’m gonna be there, just for you.”

you swallow down a bold, sassy remark that he’s gonna be there anyway, probably to remind your fluttering heart not to think too much into his comment. 

but is him being there enough to make you go? or is that scaring you more? seeing him outside of school, around his friends, in an environment where he can be even more bold and daring. 

after all, being in the school library didn’t stop him from creeping his hand up your inner thigh.

“i don’t just wanna follow you around all night and bother you like a lost puppy,” you whine quietly, knowing this was part of the deal but seeing just how impossible it is. 

“how could you think you’d bother me?” he asks, his head cocked to the side just as the bell ringing interrupts you. 

you let out a sigh as you stand to gather your books. you can feel his watchful eyes on you, attempting to ignore it as you silently get ready to go to next period. 

he mistakes you walking away from the table to throw out a stray sheet of paper as you leaving, quickly rising from his feet and pulling you back into him. your body collides with his before he presses you against the table, the library nearly empty as the loud chatter of students can be heard from the hallways. 

“were you gonna leave without answering me?”

his voice is deep and has a certain dominating darkness behind it, your eyes raising to his just in time to see him cock an eyebrow up. 

“i... i was gonna throw this out,” you answer dumbly, raising the crumpled up paper behind your back. 

he hums thoughtfully before taking it from your hand, crumbling it up and tossing it in the nearest garbage can. he misses but makes no attempt to pick it up, keeping you pinned between him and the table with no qualms about it. 

“you missed,” you point out obviously. 

a smirk crosses his lips as he lets out a hum, bringing his hand up to smooth out a piece of your hair. 

“i’m gonna ask again,” he mumbles lowly in your ear, his large body and deep voice quickly making your breaths quicken. 

“how could you think you’d bother me when i spent my entire weekend studying for that test?” he asks, his hands snaking down your body before gently resting onto your hips. 

him pulling you closer causes another shaky sigh to leave you, your low, warning mumble of his name only making him smirk. he shouldn’t like this so much, how you sound so sweet and flustered and are allowing him have you like this. 

“that was all for you, angel. not for me or the teacher or my parents or anyone else. just you. because i wanna hang out with you.”

you swallow the nervous lump in your throat as you raise your eyes to meet his, the playfulness that was in them turning the slightest bit dark. something in them making you lick over your lips as you try to calm your racing heart.

“you won’t even know when i’m there. how am i gonna find you?”

it’s the worst excuse you could have ever thought of but you’re not surprised since yeonjun was pressed against your body and breathing down your neck the way he was. 

he chuckled lowly like he also knew it was the worst excuse you could’ve thought of, taking your phone from the table. he slides it open and looks to you, his eyebrow raised when you just continue to stare at him blankly. 

then you remember, like every other teenager in the world, you have a lock on your phone.

“0319.”

he smirks at how easily you give it up, tapping a few buttons on the screen before handing it back to you.

“i put my number in there. text me when you’re there, 

so even with a pit in your stomach and anxiety coursing through your veins, you go to his new contact name and type out “i’m here.”

you’re faintly aware of the fighting couple’s voices growing louder, his deep groans mixed with her higher pitched whines causing you to look over. 

“i saw you touch her waist!” the girl yelps, her hands on her hips with a very obvious look of distaste. “so obviously you didn’t mind! maybe you should dance with her the rest of the night!”

“maybe i will, since you’re so god damn annoying,” he yells back, your lips falling into a frown. 

the girl meets your gaze and it’s then you recognize her as a girl in your grade. she’s from the popular group but is one of the nicer ones, always smiling politely at other students and listening to teachers during their lessons. 

she almost looks embarrassed to be caught in this scenario, a broken smile crossing her face before her boyfriend notices your gaze; you don’t recognize him, so you think he must be in yeonjun’s grade. 

“what the fuck are you looking at?”

your cheeks flush as you immediately snap your head away, quickly becoming scared and uncomfortable. you can hear her chastising him but just want to be away as soon as possible, the prospect of this drunk man cursing at you somehow worse than a house full of strangers.

yeonjun hasn’t answered your text but you still take a deep breath as you walk toward the front door, immediately hit with the scent of alcohol, b.o. and weed. there’s loud music blaring from the speakers and making the house vibrate, bodies littered throughout the house as they all talk loudly and dance.

your eyes scan the room for his pink hair, stomach sinking when you see no sign of him. 

is he even here yet? he told you he was coming at nine but could he be running late? or did he forget entirely, ignore your text as a joke and now you have to-

“hey. how do i know you?” 

the first thing you see is purple hair and you’re immediately thrown back into the crowded cafeteria all those months ago. when you so boldly went up to yeonjun with tears in your eyes and he was quick to pull you away. 

you remember the boy in front of you asking who you were, the same curiosity in his eyes now as you stand in his house looking extremely uncomfortable and out of place. 

“i... my name’s y/n,” you begin quietly, the boy barely able to hear you over the music and loud chatter. “i had to talk to yeonjun during lunch once so i went up to your table and-”

“well shit, so you’re her.”

there’s a smirk on his face and gleam in his eye, like he knows something you don’t. you cock your head to the side in confusion, watching as his smirk widens and he nods his head approvingly. 

“his tutor, right? he told me about you.”

“oh... yeah,” you say quietly, because yeah, that would make sense - his friends probably wonder where he goes during his free period now; there’s a few beats of awkward silence before he speaks up again.

“so what are you doing here?”

your cheeks flush and you wish you could blame the stuffiness of his house, looking to him as you stutter out that yeonjun invited you. 

“did he now,” he hums, his eyes roaming your face and stopping on your cheeks. he doesn’t know what exactly yeonjun wants from a girl like you but he has to be honest in saying he sees the appeal. 

“follow me then, sweetheart. you want a drink?”

you shake your head before following behind him, making eye contact with one too many intimidating boys and girls before landing on your feet. everyone’s in pretty heeled boots and crop tops, dancing and singing and grinding like they don’t have any cares in the world. 

like they’re not terrified and dreading being here, even with the knowledge that the attractive boy they may or may not have developed a crush on is lingering  around.

“oh, yeonjunnie,” you hear soonbin whine sarcastically, your eyes shooting up just in time to see his familiar black attire. his pink hair is poking out of his black beanie, the chain around his neck hanging low as he turns to look at his friend. 

“i found someone for you,” the boy says before yeonjun can respond, bringing you around to the front. 

you’re in the middle of both boys who tower over you and you’re not sure if you’ve ever felt more threatened; especially because when yeonjun looks at you, you’d think he didn’t know your name. 

because he doesn’t give you a hi or a smile or even a flicker of recognition in his gaze.

he looks at you and simply says, “well, shit, i didn’t think you’d actually come,” with such a handsomely conniving smirk, you’re not sure what to think in that moment. 

because it seems as if all your silly, irrational fears are coming true in this moment. very much like the movies you’ve seen and scenarios you’ve pictured where you’re humiliated at a party or by the popular boy. 

but his smile and his words seemed so genuine. he’s seemed so genuine getting to know you these past few months, how could he have faked it so well? 

the way your face drops and cheeks warm cause his heart to break a little, still all too aware of the questioning eyes and lingering looks thrown your way. 

“didn’t you invite her?” soobin questions, looking between you and him and noting how embarrassed you look.

“i did,” is all yeonjun responds. no rhyme or reason or answer as to why he did. just that he did. so it could very well be a joke. 

“well then, welcome, y/n,” soobin responds, reaching his hand out to you. “i’m soobin, in case we weren’t formally introduced.”

you give him a tight smile, yeonjun’s piercing gaze on yours as you take soobin’s large hand in yours. 

“nice to meet you.”

your voice is soft and shaky and brings more heat to your cheeks, wanting to die when soobin rips up one of his friends for you to sit on the couch.

“i don’t mind standing,” you insist, shaking your head and offering a small smile to the other boy.

“no, no, pretty girls shouldn’t stand,” soobin says with a smirk, catching the way yeonjun’s eyes roll and jaw clenches; it all goes unnoticed to you, though, too busy sitting down and looking at your hands nervously folded into one another.

“so y/n,” soobin says, sitting down across from you and leaning forward the same way yeonjun does during his tutoring sessions. “what’s it like to tutor this idiot?”

his words are laced with affection, as are his actions as he ruffles yeonjun’s beanie playfully, but they still make you frown. still make you wanna defend him in front of others and ensure that he’s not an idiot. 

“he’s great actually,” you say softly, lips pulled up in a soft smile. “very smart and learns fast. definitely not an idiot.”

you look to the boy to see him staring blankly at you, heart sinking in your chest; you’re becoming increasingly uncomfortable in this environment and a big part of it as to do with his attitude. 

you weren’t expecting him to be overly excited, kiss your feet upon seeing you arrive or proclaim an irrational excitement. but it kind of seems as if, right now, he could care less that you’re here.

“ahh, that’s cool then,” soobin smiles. “you’re a year younger than us, right?” 

you can only hum a small “mhm,” yeonjun’s gaze burning into your face causing you to look at him. 

it’s the same soft, wide-eyed look you give him during your sessions but right now, it’s making him feel far too unsettled. like people seeing him with you are gonna show them a different side to him he has yet to acknowledge. 

“why’d you decide to come?” he asks, not being able to stop the words; he already knows the answer, he basically begged you too. 

and because you’ve been nothing but sweet and soft to him, he’s not surprised when you don’t throw it in his face that he’s the one who enforced this. that he studied for nights to pass that test so you’d feel inclined to come. 

“i thought it’d be fun,” you say sweetly, i thought we’d be able to have fun outside of school like you claimed to have wanted. “i don’t really come to parties a lot.”

“i can’t imagine why, you seem really sweet and funny,” soobin says, a flirty smile on his face that makes a blush creep up on your cheeks; he’s so bold and confident, you don’t know both of them do it. “you should come to more.”

seeing that shade of pink on your cheeks from someone else angers yeonjun more than he cares to admit, throwing his friend a dirty look before growling at him to shut up. 

“why? she’s sweet, isn’t she? maybe i need to be tutored too,” soobin says, throwing a smile your way as he plops down in the spot next to you. “what periods are you free? maybe we can go out for lunch and have a session.”

“i... i’m not allowed to leave for lunch.”

that’s a school rule - only seniors are allowed to leave for lunch. but with the way soobin laughs and yeonjun hold back a smirk, the other people littered around also letting out soft chuckles, it appears that’s something not many people follow. 

“you can with me,” soobin assures, patting your knee softly as he sends another charming smile your way. “i’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble.”

you smile in an effort to downplay your embarrassment and discomfort, an annoyed sigh leaving yeonjun as he rises from his seat. he looks even more big and broad surrounded by these people for some reason, in his element where he fits in like a glove.

it’s even more evident that you don’t fit in here - at least in the library, that’s a place you belong. the quiet, the smell of books, the solidarity, a keen sense of-

“i’m getting another drink.”

yeonjun’s words are short and deep as he quickly gets up, hauling ass to the kitchen before anyone can even respond to him. his friend must see the look on your face too, a small pout on your lips that has the boy frowning next to you.

“don’t worry about him, he’s grouchy tonight,” soonbin says reassuringly, wrapping his arm around you affectionately. “some girl stood him up.”

the first thing you feel is a blow to your chest, an unfamiliar pain right in the center as you register soobin’s words; he begged you to come tonight but was waiting for another girl.

probably one of the many college girls, who are prettier and funnier and more charismatic than you.

so, really, you can’t be surprised. you were silly to think he liked you in the way you thought, in the way you’ve come to discover you like him because he makes you smile and laugh and feel warm inside.

but even so, you’re hurt.

you’re hurt and embarrassed and feel humiliated even though no one knows the real reason you came here and stepped way out of your comfort zone. thank god for that, you think, because it’d be even more horrible if people knew you came for yeonjun, all while he was waiting for someone else.

“oh,” you manage to squeak out, a soft look on your face despite the pain and embarrassment inside of you. “that’s too bad.”

“yeah,” soobin says, looking at you with sympathetic eyes you know you can’t trust. “he’ll be good, though.”

you bet he will, you think, because that’s just who choi yeonjun is. he doesn’t care who he strings along or makes believe is special - he’s gonna do what he wants when he wants it with no regard for how it effects other.

even a sweet little meek tutor he was able to get under his thumb the first day he met her.

when yeonjun returns, he can tell immediately that something is wrong with you. your hands are clasped together and you’re biting the inside of your cheek, fiddling nervously as you listen in on the conversation around you.

you meet his gaze and he’s quick to look away, one because he got caught and two because he doesn’t know if he can handle the look in your eye right now.

you’re always almost about to make him crack, break down into being someone worthy of you, and he doesn’t wanna do that tonight. doesn’t wanna show everyone here that, if he wants to, he can be a worthy person.

you’re a second away from breaking before soobin asks if you wanna dance, a tight smile on your face as you shake your head.

“i... i’m actually gonna go outside for a sec,” you say, knowing full well you’re gonna book it to your car and never return. “it’s hot in here. i need some air.”

“there’s plenty of air in here, angel,” soobin remarks, your eyes widening at the term.

it sounds different coming from his mouth, not as deep and melodic and it doesn’t let off a bunch of butterflies in your stomach. you’re too busy giggling softly as you shake your head that you don’t hear the deep, low noise of distaste leave yeonjun’s mouth.

you only see him grab soobin’s arm when he tries to get up to follow you, a lowly growled “let her go,” that makes your eyebrows pull together; you don’t know if he’s trying to hurt your feelings on purpose but he’s certainly doing it a lot tonight.

it feels like you can finally take a deep breath when you get outside, no one around except the chilly air and starry sky. it makes you feel a bit better, sinking down on the stairs and humming contently when your hands meet the cold concrete.

you passed by the dancing people and laughing, smiley couples inside and felt silly for coming here. silly for thinking yeonjun wanted you in his life without him getting something out of it.

what would he want from you anyway? what could you possibly give him when he’s already had so much better?

tears prick your eyes and you bury your face in your hands, taking deep calming breaths so the harsh winter air doesn’t feel like it’s burning you.

you avoided boys and feelings like this for so long and with good reason; you’re too sensitive and naive and always try to see the good in people.

you’ll put your feelings aside in order to spare someone else - you saw it in the beginning, pushing down your qualms about lying to the teacher to further appease a boy you found cute.

and when you put it like that, it sounds really fucking stupid. it sounds like, maybe, you’re just-

“didn’t i tell you you’re too pretty to cry over stupid things?”

your first instinct is to turn around when you hear his voice, his tall, dark figure looming behind you. 

you should probably smile shyly or say that you’re not crying but you can only stay silent, turning back around to avoid his intense gaze and your own humiliation. 

the same way he should probably go inside and carry on with his night the way he usually would. drinking and flirting and dancing before he probably brought someone home or into the bathroom. 

when he moves behind you, that’s what you think he’s about to do. 

but then he’s walking around your sitting frame and bending down to you, looking up at you from his crouched position. his hand reaches out to touch your face, forcing it up so you can only stare at him with teary eyes and flushed cheeks.

there’s a frown on his face as he runs his thumb across your cold cheek, his gentle touch a shocking contrast to his harsher appearance. 

“what happened?”

what happened? you think, not used to feeling so snarky and hurt. what happened was that he got your hopes up, was nice to you and invited you and kept making you feel special, just for them to come crashing down.

but then the more you think about it, the silence between you getting longer and longer, the guiltier you feel - because your feelings aren’t his fault.

you taking his looks and kindness and lingering touches for something deeper was a mistake. you know the kind of boy he is and have still been foolish enough to fall for him.

“nothing,” you grumble, a wet, humorless laugh leaving you as you shake your head. “i’m just being silly.”

but you can’t look up from your feet, your eyes roaming the cracks in the concrete, and that’s how he knows you’re lying; that, and because he knows he was being a fucking dick. 

but seeing you in this environment was weird for him. seeing people look at you and look at him, specifically soobin who got it out of him that he might like you, was unfamiliar for him.

the same way this was unfamiliar for you - which is why he wants you to talk to him. 

“what happened, y/n?” he asks, voice a tad bit harsher and deeper as he cranes his neck down. he hears your harsh, nervous intake of breath and resists the urge to reach out and touch you. 

you need to answer him before he can touch you. 

but you never do. not after ten seconds and not after a minute, prompting him to let out a sigh and pop his neck to the side. your face pulls into a grimace at the crack that sounds through the air. 

his cold hand touching your face causes you to jump, your eyes meeting and a lump forming in your throat; his eyes fool you too much and that’s exactly the problem here.

“talk to me, angel, c’mon.”

your eyes start to burn when a harsh wind passes, tears stinging your eyes and coldness rushing over your face. why does he have to keep calling you that? why does his voice have to sound so sincere and why does he have to look at you the way he is right now?

like he cares so much and hopes those tears aren’t because you’re sad.

“there’s nothing to talk about, yeonjun,” you blurt out, anger and humiliation seep into your tone before you can stop it. you let out a sigh as you try to get it together, taking a few calming breaths before shaking your head. 

“just go back inside, okay? i’m going home. t-thank you for inviting me but i-”

“i don’t want you to go.”

he blurts the words so loud and fast, it even sounds a little awkward to your ears. but he sounds and looks almost desperate, your eyebrows pulling together and heart sinking as you take a deep breath.

because you know you can’t stop the next words from tumbling out of your mouth.

“well, it doesn’t seem like you want me here.”

your words are soft and quiet but they still physically pain his chest, his eyes roaming your face as he brings them to your cold cheeks. he wipes under your eye when wetness forms, the cold biting wind rushing around you both. 

“i want you,” he reassures quietly, his voice just as low and gravely as he speaks hushly to you; he thinks it’s the most honest and true thing he’s ever said to someone. “i want you more than you know.”

“then why are you acting like that?” you question sweetly, the pout on your lips nearly making him groan and cover them with his. “you were being... mean. i felt like... you didn’t want me here at all. or didn’t want people to know you invited me.”

your words break his heart but he also knows they’re true, his fingers caressing your face gently. he notices then how freezing and red it is, looking you over and rising from his feet.

you look disappointed that he’s gonna leave, your face falling and eyebrows furrowing before he reaches his hand down to you. 

“let’s talk in my car,” he clarifies, nodding his head toward his vehicle. “it’s freezing out here.”

you bite down on your lip, contemplating it for a few seconds before another harsh gust of wind passes. you let out a sigh as you take his hand, grateful to enter his car the moment you sit down. 

he turns it on and the engine roars to life, his fingers reaching out to turn on your heated seat. 

the next few moments only consist of the car’s engine warming up as you wait for the heat to kick on, you and yeonjun stealing glances back and forth at each other; you both miss the others gaze by a few seconds and if anyone were to be watching, it’d be obvious you both were nervous right now. 

dancing along the line you’re both nervous to cross for entirely different reasons - you because you somehow don’t think he reciprocates those feelings and him because he knows you deserve more. 

but in this moment, he decides he has to be selfish. watching you with a flush in your cheeks and your lip drawn into your mouth.

“i like you, y/n. that’s why i wanted you here,” his voice says, breaking the silence in a way that almost seems more terrifying. “but that’s also why i didn’t... want people knowing.”

your eyebrows pull together and immediately your mind goes to him being embarrassed. embarrassed that you’re younger and quiet and that no one really knows who the hell you are.

he’s infamous and cool and a senior, obviously he should be with someone similiar. like a popular girl in his grade or a college girl or maybe even a the girl who stood him up.

“not because of you, angel, but because of...”

“you?” you interrupt, a snark in your tone neither of you except; but you’ve heard this line one too many times, not expecting to ever ever hear it real life, let alone toward you. 

“it’s not you, it’s me?” you ask, a gentle, faux smile on your face as you shake your head at him. “is that what you’re about to say?”

he clenches his jaw so he doesn’t smirk, resisting the urge to laugh as he looks you over carefully. it’s obvious your smile’s fake because it doesn’t meet your eyes, the teary glint in them every bit sad as they are frustrated. 

but of course, you’re too sweet to treat him as he deserves. 

his hand reaches out to grab your chin, his thumb and pointer finger on either side as he forces your gaze to his. his smirk comes through when he hears your sharp intake of breath, tongue peeking out to lick at his lips. 

“if you let me talk, angel, you’d know what i was about to say,” he hums quietly, his breath fanning into your face at his closeness. it smells of mint and beer, it should probably be gross but surprisingly isn’t.

his words successfully stir you into silence, partially from fear and partially because the look in his eye has caused you to grow warm all over; and once he sees that, he begins to speak again.

“i didn’t want people knowing because i didn’t want anyone fucking with you, y/n. because if they did, i’d have to ruin them and then everyone would see it.”

“see what?” you ask quietly, the air between you thick and buzzing as you hold his gaze. 

hold it so adamantly and intensely, you’re barely able to register him leaning closer. inch by inch by inch, until his lips are pressed against yours and you’re kissing choi yeonjun in the front seat of his car. 

you’re stiff and awkward and don’t really know what to do but it’s fine because he laces his fingers in your hair and pulls you closer. parts your lips with his tongue which causes you to kiss him back with a slow, unsure pace.

but it only causes him to smile, retracting his tongue and keeping it sweet before he pulls back and rests his head on your forehead. 

“why i decided to spend my free period during senior year getting fucking tutored, angel,” he chuckles lowly, his hand running through your hair gently. 

the soft look in his eye causes you to swallow nervously, words caught in your throat as you stare at him wide-eyed.

“i... i thought you... you said it was...” you let out a shaky breath as you try to get your thoughts together, completely unable to remember your conversation from weeks ago. when he cryptically asked you your thoughts about just why he agreed to stop lying to the teacher and do the sessions; 

so instead, your cheeks warm and you’re hit with the reminder that you just had your first kiss with him. and that you were probably absolutely terrible at it. 

“that was my first kiss. i... i’m sorry if it was bad.”

a small smile crosses yeonjun’s face as he shakes his head at you, thumb dragging down your cheek gently to feel the warm, smooth skin of your cheek. 

“it was perfect, angel, you’re perfect.” he mumbles, your eyes widening and heart stuttering as a ball forms in your throat. “so perfect that i thought you stood me up and weren’t coming. so let’s go on date. a real date, this time.”

in the beginning of the school year, you would’ve never imagined your study sessions with yeonjun would be turning into dinner dates; but as you sit in your room and get ready, your heart pounding and palms sweaty, that’s exactly what’s happened. 

it’s the fourth date you guys are going on and you can officially say that you really, really have feelings for yeonjun. you’re still shy and nervous around him but it’s only because he’s more comfortable with you too.

he takes your hand with ease and laces your fingers together that he was meant to do that.

he’ll shamelessly peck a kiss to your lips and deepen it at any given time, your cheeks burning and embarrassed voice telling him to stop when he did it in the middle of the bowling alley last week. 

he’ll watch you and smile at you and just touch you with the softest of intentions, you almost can’t believe this is the bad boy everyone claims is so mean and heartless. 

you say almost because you still don’t do it in school. it’s still a somewhat... secret fondness you have for one another. he’ll play with your fingers under the table during sessions and wink at you in the hallway but that’s about it. 

he’d probably never kiss you in the hallway or cafeteria but you also wouldn’t want that. it would draw way too much attention and probably leave your face with a permanent, embarrassing flush. 

“are you going out?” you hear your mom ask, her head peeking in before a smile brightens her face. “aw, you look beautiful, y/n. yeonjun must be coming soon.”

the topic of dating had been undeniably embarrassing with your parents, mostly because they couldn’t believe you were showing an interest. but they welcomed yeonjun with open arms, insisting to meet him at the front door to ensure he was a nice boy.

and oh had he really showed you just how charming he could be. 

“mom,” you whine in embarrassment, her laugh echoing in your room as he throws her arms up defensively. 

“you guys be careful. it’s supposed to rain soon.”

you nod your head as you finish getting ready, smoothing over your hair once more before your phone vibrates against your desk. he texted you that he was on his way with a smiley face and heart, sending one back before looking at yourself in the mirror. 

you don’t know what the hell he sees you or why he likes you but you know if you dwell on it, you’ll talk yourself out of everything. convince yourself that this is all a joke and he’s gonna turn around and say he pities you. 

even though, when you brought this up to him, he was quick to calm those worries. 

“c-can i ask you something, yeonjun?”

you were walking home from the movies with your hands intertwined.

the cold, harsh winter had blossomed into spring, the night air growing less frigid; there was a still a bit of a chill but it was nothing a jacket and yeonjun’s warm body couldn’t fix.

“of course, angel,” he mumbles lowly, a small smile on his face as you stop in your tracks. he’s quick to follow, eyebrow raising and body turning so he can look down at you. 

he cocks his head to the side when you don’t speak for a few seconds, his lips falling into a pout as his hand tightens in yours.

“you okay?” he asks quietly, thumb tracing small circles into your skin. 

you lick over your lips nervously, feeling silly for the need to ask this question but it’s one you can’t help. it wracks your mind over and over again and it feels like you’re about to-

“why do you like me?” you blurt out, unaware you even said the words until you notice yeonjun’s face morph into one of surprise. 

his mouth opens and closes for a moment, brows pulled together as he tries to make sense of your words.

“i mean, what’s not to like?” he asks softly, taking you by the hips and pulling you closer to him. 

you’re in the middle of the sidewalk but there’s no one around, the sky dark and streets desolate as you both meet each others gazes - yours full of doubt and his full of confusion. 

“i... i don’t know,” you mumble sheepishly, looking down at your intertwined hands. “i just... it doesn’t really make sense.”

“why? because i’m older? because you’re smart and i’m not?” he teases, your panicked eyes immediately meeting his.

“no! more like the exact opposite,” you clarify as you shake your head. “because you’re popular and attractive and charming and i’m just.... not.”

his eyes roam your face and his heart sinks when he sees the doubt and nerves continue to grow. how you really feel this way about yourself and are pondering the idea that someone like him would want someone like you, when really, it should be the opposite. 

“y/n, i’m lucky that you’re settling for me,” the pink-haired boy laughs out, squeezing your hips reassuringly. “you’re good and sweet and so fucking beautiful. i wanted you the second i saw you, you know, but knew i shouldn’t.”

your eyes widen at his words, shock behind them that has a laugh bubbling from his chest. 

“in lunch. i noticed you the first day and thought you were an angel,” he says, the nickname he always calls you particularly getting the butterflies going tonight. 

“i could tell that you were good. you just have this.. aura, y/n, and i knew that i would taint it. i knew you deserved someone way better. because i’m not good like you.”

"yes you are,” you respond immediately, a frown appearing on your face as you shake your head. “you pretend not to be, but you are, yeonjun. i can see it.”

“you can see it because i wanna be good around you, baby. i wanna be someone good for you.”

tears prick your eyes as a lump forms in your throat, overwhelmed and unsure of how to respond to that. he smiles softly as he takes in your face, leaning forward to press his lips against your forehead. 

he inhales your sweet, vanilla smell while you take in his cologne and faint scent of cigarettes, swallowing down the lump and praying you don’t burst into tears on the spot. 

“don’t doubt yourself, angel,” yeonjun mumbles against your head, puling you closer until your flush against his warm, broad body. “i’m the one who got lucky here.” 

even though it meant wasting away in the fucking library. 

“the library isn’t that bad, yeonjun,” you whine ten minutes later in his car, heat blasting and music low as he drives to the restaurant. one hand’s on the steering wheel while the other’s laced with yours, your body turned in his black leather seat to look over and chastise him. 

he confessed to you that your sessions were the first time he’d ever stepped foot in that library; he hadn’t even been positive that school had a library until he walked through the door that day. 

“it smells like dust and the librarian’s a bitch.”

“she is not!” you squeal, smacking his arm lightly as you throw him a chastising look. “she’s just a little... misunderstood. people don’t respect her space.”

even you can admit sometimes she does go a little overboard; you saw her once lecture a younger student for a half hour because they mistakenly put a book on the wrong shelf. 

“you’re too nice, baby. maybe even a little biased, since you’re the only one she seems to tolerate.”

“probably because i’m there every day,” you tease lightly, your eyes widening playfully before a loud crack of thunder causes you to jump in your seat.

your mom hadn’t been kidding when she said there was gonna be a storm tonight. you’d ran to yeonjun’s car shielding the top of your head, rain pelting down and wind howling as your mom’s “be careful!” got drowned out.

and right now, it only seemed to be getting worse. 

“you scared of thunder?” 

you hear the smirk in yeonjun’s voice and resist the urge to stick your tongue out, not about to admit that, yes, you’re nearly an adult but still terrified of rain and thunder. 

“no, of-of course not,” you grumble, snatching your hand away from his. “it just surprised me.”

yeonjun looks over at you and sees the nervousness all your face, not commenting as he silently snatches your hand back. he intertwines your fingers as he raises your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against it while he drives through the rain.

it’s getting considerably heavier by every second, his foot pressing off the gas every time he drives past a puddle. 

“i used to be scared of the rain, you know.” 

you look over at him and see him looking peacefully at the road, pink strands of hair hanging in his face. 

“oh, yeah? when you were like five?”

“twelve,” he corrects with a smile, doing his best to distract you from the chaos outside. “i used to wake up crying, sometimes. i know that’s hard to believe now. because i’m so cool and what not.”

“oh please,” you giggle out, the sweet sound filling the car also distracting him from the pounding of rain and crackling of thunder; he’s outgrown his fear of storms but even he can admit this one is a little bit scary right now. 

“what, you don’t think? i’ll have you know-”

the skidding of his tires mixed with your frightened screams is the next thing he hears, a strangled “yeonjun!” in the background as he attempts to take control of his car.

there’s the boom of thunder and lightning and loud blares of horns before everything goes still, his body acting on auto pilot as he safely pulls off on the side of the highway.

his first concern isn’t damage to his car or the heightening storm outside - it’s you in his passenger seat, eyes closed tight and tears on your face. 

“are you okay?” yeonjun’s voice frantically asks, barely able to feel the sensation of his his warm hands on your face. your heart’s pounding and your hands are shaking and for a moment, you thought you were about to die. 

your eyes pop open to meet his and the concern in them only makes your eyes water more, bottom lip trembling as you nod your head. 

but even though you’re nodding he sees you’re not. he sees you trying to catch your breath and your eyes looking back and forth nervously outside.

“hey, hey, angel. it’s okay. i’m here,” he hums lowly, his thumbs running over your face soothingly. “i’m here and you’re okay.”

you attempt to catch and slow your breaths as your eyes never leave his, his only leaving you to quickly assess you for injuries.

“i know that was scary. i’m sorry. i should’ve been more careful.”

“it wasn’t your fault,” you squeak out, swallowing the knot in your throat as you shake your head. your eyes roam his and you pout when there’s guilt and sorrow in his eyes, your own hand snaking down to hold his hand. 

“are you okay?”

his eyes soften as he cups your face and brings you to closer to him, a quiet “yes, baby,” leaving his mouth before he places his lips on your forehead.

you breathe in his scent and he breathes in yours, not allowing himself to pull away until he feels you relax under him.

“i’m gonna drive us to my house, okay?” he says, his eyes back on you looking cautious. “we can order food. i just don’t want us driving in this if it’s gonna get worse.”

you nod your head before reaching down to grasp one of his hands tightly, his small smile meeting you before he carefully pulls back onto the highway. 

the storm gets substantially worse as he makes his way to his house, hand grasping yours tightly as he drives slow and steady. 

he’s flooded with relief when he finally pulls in his driveway, running around the passenger side door to help you out. his hand doesn’t leave the small of your back until you’re in his room, a big space with white walls and black furniture that doesn’t surprise you in the slightest.

contrary to most teenage boy’s rooms, his smells really good. like a mix of his cologne, laundry detergent and a distinct smell you’ve just deemed as his natural scent.

it’s comforting and makes you feel at ease, licking over your lips nervously as you realize this is the first time you’ve been in a boy’s room.

“you want anything to drink?”

“i...i’m good,” you say, sitting on his bed as you look around.

there’s no decor on the walls except for a large flat screen tv across from his bed and above his dresser, a pile of clothes off to the side. 

“sorry, i didn’t expect to have anyone over so it’s a little messy.”

you look over at him sitting beside you, a sheepish smile on his face. you think it’s the first time he’s ever sounded somewhat... nervous and out of his comfort zone. 

maybe because he knows you’ve never been in this situation before. 

“it’s okay, i like your room,” you smile, spreading your fingers out across his soft, dark comforter. “it’s very fitting.”

“oh yeah?” he smirks, inching closer to you and making your heart speed up. “and why’s that?”

there’s that dark playfulness you’re so used to seeing swarming behind his eyes, just as teasing as it is intense that makes you hold back a squeak. he quirks his eyebrow as he moves closer, pink tongue peeking out to roll over his lips.

you can’t help when your eyes fall to them, missing the feel of them on yours. 

you two haven’t gone past making out, a clash of tongues and teeth that have you quietly moaning into his mouth. but when your body acts on its own accord, pushing yourself closer to him or grasping at the bottom of his shirt, he always stops you.

“what are you doin’ baby?”

you were in his car after a tutoring session, the parking lot of the school completely deserted. your cheeks flush and you immediately draw your hands back, lowering your head slightly as embarrassment took over. 

“i...i thought that was...don’t you wanna...”

because clothes come off, that’s how it starts - you know that much.

and you can feel how much he wants to go further, the hardness under you that scared you at first now the thing begging you to go further.

you feel wanted and desired and even though you’re scared, you want to go further.

“we don’t have to do anything, baby. this is fine,” he says softly, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. 

“but i want to,” you mumble, not even sure if he can hear your words because of how quiet you are. 

you know he must though because he draws his fingers under your chin to lift your face, eyes heavy of fondness and arousal making your stomach flutter more. 

your first instinct is to assume he doesn’t want you - why else would he stop you? but you can see in his eyes that he does...right? because it really does look like that.

what other reason would he have to stop you though? maybe he just doesn’t-

“whatever you’re thinking is probably wrong,” yeonjun mutters, tightening his hold on you and bringing you closer to him. “i don’t wanna go further with you while we’re in the car, angel. you deserve more than that.”

“hm?” you hear him hum, ripping you from your memories. 

you look from his lips to his eyes watching you with lust, the beginnings of your nonsense words cut off when he kisses you. 

your heart flutters and stomach swoops immediately, kissing back with an embarrassing amount of fervor. he smirks against your lips as he pulls you on his lap, your arms circling around his shoulders.

his tongue traces your bottom lip before you feel it in your mouth, daringly meeting his back in a way you’d never done before. it causes him to bring his hands to your hips, squeezing and massaging them with his large hands. 

“look at you,” he mutters almost condescendingly, falling back onto his bed and causing you to squeal. you’re holding yourself above him and his eyebrow is quirked, red lips puffy and pink hair messy causing your heart to flutter mercilessly.

“if i didn’t know any better, baby, i’d think you’re real eager tonight.”

you bite down on your lip as you adjust yourself on him, your hips straddling his and brushing over him. your building heat is right under him and it takes everything in you not to moan at just the thought, his hands strong and firm.

and just as you’re about to answer, tell him that, yes, even though you’re not familiar with.... any of this, you’re eager and ready, your stomach growls and ruins the moment.

it causes a smile to light up his face, a deep chuckle leaving him before he flips you over. he’s hovering above you now, no parts of your bodies touching except for his hand a few inches away from your head. 

“or you’re hunger, my mistake, angel,” he says with a smirk, pressing a peck to your nose sweetly. “what do you want?”

you spend the next hour laying in his bed waiting for the pizza, the storm just as wild outside as it was when you were in the car. you bit down on a squeal threatening to leave your mouth every time there was a terrifying boom, your body shimming closer to yeonjun’s.

he smiled against your head and welcomed your body closer, bringing your head to his chest.

“you’re cute,” you hear him mumble, the swooping in your stomach causing you to feel warm.

you look up at him and smile shyly, tucking your head closer into his chest. you have to hide your growing smile when you feel his lips brush your head, deep content hums leaving his chest.

the doorbell ringing rips you two apart, his mumbled “i’ll be right back,’ causing you to sit up. you brush your fingers through your hair as you sit up, looking around his dark room and feeling something brewing in your stomach.

you feel every bit as nervous as you do excited and eager in his room with him right now. 

it’s still scary because you’re new to this. because you’ve never done anything like this before and you know you don’t know what you’re doing. 

but a part of you wants to kiss him on his bed. go further than he’s allowed you to because if he only didn’t want to be with you in the car, this should solve that problem, right?

you’ve never felt as desired and warm as you have with him these past months. no one’s ever looked at you the way he does or have made you feel the way he does. 

you’re usually too scared or uneasy to talk to people or form a connection; but from the moment you met him, you were able to do that. a part of you just felt inclined to help him, be a person that he knows would be there for him even if it meant in the form of helping him study or motivate him.

you never would’ve expected for him to reciprocate your feelings. nor would you have expected to be in this current situation, want and need bubbling in your stomach at the thought of yeonjun doing-

“pizza’s here,” yeonjun says, popping his head through the door holding a box of pizza. 

you smile upon seeing it, your stomach growling at the smell; if he hears it, he doesn’t say anything. just walks over and places the box on his bed, offering you a slice that you take immediately.

“thank you,” you squeak, bringing the food to your mouth.

he watches you for a few seconds, suddenly all too aware of him looking at you. you raise an eyebrow as you chew, a shy look coming over your face that causes him to smile. 

“what?”

“nothing,” he says, shaking his head as he takes out his own slice. “my mom called me and said they can’t come home tonight because of the storm.”

you take the time to chew your food as you take in his words, the fluttering in your stomach a mix of nerves and excitement. 

“oh.”

“yeah...” he hums, his eyes roaming your face; he doesn’t want his next suggestion to make you uncomfortable but he also thinks it would be best. for both of you. 

“and i don’t know if i should drive you home, angel. it’s supposed to get really bad. do you... wanna stay over?”

there’s a lump in your throat for all the reasons there shouldn’t be. 

not because this is your first time sleeping over a boy’s house or the fact that his parents aren’t home. or because you’re gonna have to call your mom and say you’re sleeping over a friend’s house.

or even because you don’t know what to expect tonight.

it’s only there because you know, in a new form of acting on your deeper desires and not suppressing yourself to just being some innocent girl, you wanna get railed.

“i... i guess i can do that,” you say, some nervousness still behind your voice because when it comes down to it, you’re unfamiliar with this situation. 

“well yeah, but do you want to, baby?” he asks with a small smirk, his hand reaching up to toy with your hair. 

his long fingers run through the strands before tucking them behind your ear, his hand slinking down to rest on your neck.

“if you don’t feel comfortable, i’ll take you home later,” he says, thumb running across your skin slowly. breath catches in your throat when he leans closer to you, his lingering scent and broadness causing you to bite down on your lip.

“i just thought it’d be nice to lay with you tonight. or wake up with you.”

“or let us go further since we’re not in the car.” 

you don’t know who’s more shocked by your words but you know you’re definitely more embarrassed, a rampant blush crossing your cheeks as you attempt to hide in his shoulder.

he’s quick to pull you away with a small “tsk,” the smirk on his lips quickly widening despite the soft look in his eyes. 

you bite back the noise threatening to leave your mouth when he wraps his hand around you hair, the slightest of stings ripping through your scalp when he pulls you forward.

“go further?” he asks lowly, his eyes peering down at you only making you feel more warm and flustered. 

words are caught in your mouth and you can’t find it in you to say anything. not only because you’re too embarrassed but you don’t even know what to say.

you know you want more than kissing and that there’s always a building pressure between your legs when he pulls you on his lap. 

you know on more than one occasion, you’ve wanted his hands that’d rest on your hips to go just a little further down. slip in the waistband of your pants and meet the wetness and heat through your underwear.

you’ve wanted to see his pink hair between your legs as you experience getting eaten out of the first time, holding back moans in the crease of your elbow as his tongue explores every inch of you. 

you know you want to look up at him with tears in your eyes and a heaving chest, ask if you can please suck him off because you’ve also never done that before. 

he can see the arousal and lust clouding your eyes the more the silence elapses, his cock quickly hardening as he takes in the sight of you on his bed ready for him to take you. 

it’s just a matter of how and when he’s gonna. how and when you tell him like the good girl he knows you are. 

“how much further are you thinking, angel?” his deep voice finally asks, successfully breaking the silence and building the thick tension. 

you let out a breathy exhale when he pushes you on your back, the knot in your stomach tightening as he looks down at your body. 

“what do you want me to do, huh?” he asks, the smirk and feeling in his chest growing when he sees you start to breathe heavily on his bed. your legs are nearly shaking from the build up in pressure, your tongue licking over your dry lips. 

“i... yeonjun...”

he bites back the groan threatening to leave his mouth at you moaning his name, holding himself above your body as he hand spays out against your stomach. 

“why are you moaning my name baby? i haven’t even done anything.”

“but... but i want you to. so bad.”

your voice is whiny and pathetic but it’s all it takes for him to snap, his hand moving from your stomach to between your legs. 

he can feel the heat and pulse of your pussy and has to suppress his own groan again, completely getting off on the feeling that you, the innocent little tutor he’s been wanting to ruin since he saw you last year, is laid out on his bed and dripping just for him. 

“please, yeonjun,” you whine again, completely out of your mind with lust when you feel his hand on you. 

he bites down on his lip before he starts gently running his hand over you, barely putting any pressure on you. he’s just relishing in the how only that makes you spread your legs immediately, hips bucking up closer to his hand. 

he pulls his hand away and pins your hips to the bed, his face hovering above yours before you can even whine again. 

“be patient, angel. or this isn’t gonna work,” he growls lowly, his thumbs running over your pants gently. 

“i- i’m sorry,” you gasp out, tears pricking your eyes because this feeling is so new and foreign and overwhelming. “i just... i’m so...”

“you’re so what?”

“i want you,” you say immediately, thinking back to your conversation with him outside of soobin’s house. when the words you’re telling him now are the same ones he told you. “i want you more than you know.”

a scoff leaves his mouth when you say that, remembering those words leaving his own mouth that night.

but the difference here is, he thinks, is that you really didn’t know that.

you didn’t know how just sitting there and smiling at him and talking to him so sweetly was making him want you. your soft smiles and vanilla scent and the wide-eyed look you’d always innocently give him.

but he’s aware of how much you want him, in this moment. he can feel it, smell it, see it. he knows just how much you want him because he wants you the same way. 

your pants and underwear are off in one shot, a gasp leaving your mouth when you realize you’re completely bare in front of him. 

he’s quick to look at your face to see if you’re okay, that teary wide-eyed look and teeth sinking in your lip greeting him; another whiney and mumbled “touch me,” leaves your mouth before he can ask.

a smile lights up his face that makes your heart jump even through this all, a teasing look in his eye even through the arousal and painful hardness in his pants.

“say please, angel.”

“please touch me, yeonjun. please.”

his fingers are on your clit right after the words leave you, your mouth hanging open and legs spreading when you’re immediately filed with a sense of some relief. 

“you’re so wet for me, angel. how long have you wanted this, huh?”

you babble out something you can’t even hear through your pounding ears but it must be something good and polite enough because you feel a finger enter you a few seconds later.

he hisses at the tightness around his finger and has to remember to be gentle with you, fingering you slowly and sweetly as he toys at your clit. 

“you’re doing so good, baby. so good for me.”

you cry out a moan that has his fingers moving quicker, curling them just right before you scream out his name; you’ve never ever felt anything like this before.

“yeonjun, oh, my god.”

“i know, baby, it’s okay,” he says, allowing his fingers to work over you and in you for a few seconds before he forces himself to remove them. your head shoots up and the sight almost makes him smile, a frustrated look in your teary eyes that has him cocking his head.

“why did you-”

the fingers just inside you are below your chin, the slickness of his fingers on your skin making you widen your eyes. is that... is he about to make you...

you hold back another moan when you watch him raise his fingers to his own mouth, his eyes rolling back when he tastes you. you don’t know if you’re a little grossed out or even more turned on but you think it must be the latter if the way your legs start to shake again and your lower stomach tightens. 

“you taste so fucking sweet, angel. can i eat your pussy?”

he could tell how scared you were when you first got here, not seeing a hint of that fear now but still needing to check before he pulls you on his face and has his way with you.

“y-yes, please, yeonjun, oh my-”

you can’t even get the words out before his hands are taking off your shirt, removing the straps of your bra and pushing them down until your boobs pop out. 

perky nipples spring into the air and he can’t stop the groan that leaves him, circling his tongue around each of them before he tells you to unhook it. your eyes meet his for just a few seconds before you reach out to take it off, quickly throwing it on the floor before you, without thinking, cover yourself. 

his eyes flash and he immediately snaps out of his trance, placing his hands on your arms but not attempting to move them. 

“what are you doing, angel?”

and it’s at this moment, something as silly as him seeing your chest completely naked, that you’re feeling insecure. 

you know he’s been with girls before this, college girls who definitely have bigger boobs than you and know what they’re doing. girls who are prettier and sexier and don’t blush or whine at the slightest hint of his touch of them. 

“i... i know you’ve been with prettier girls before. an-and i don’t think they’re that nice.”

“angel, i don’t know if i’ve gotten this across enough but you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever met,” he says, the sweetest words to ever leave his mouth not even making him blink.

because he needs you to know in this moment that you are. he can’t stand the insecure, fearful look in your eye that he’s not gonna find you desirable because you’re comparing yourself to other people. 

“that’s a lie,” you weakly mumble out, tears stinging your eyes because this is so stupid. now you’re ruining the moment and he’s not gonna wanna do this with you. you’re proving just how inexperienced and unfamiliar you are with-

“i don’t lie.”

your eyebrow raises and he can’t help but smirk, the realization that your whole relationship started off lying to your teacher making him let out a deep chuckle. 

“i mean i don’t lie to you, angel, i would never lie to you,” he says, reaching down to press a long kiss on your lips. it’s the most intimate kiss you’ve ever had with him, mouths parting on one another like you’re trying to get all your worries and reassurances out on one another.

him that you’re just as desirable as he knows you are and you that you really don’t know what you’re doing but you wanna do this with him. 

“you’re beautiful, baby, and if anyone’s not worthy of the other, it’s me.”

his words make your eyebrows pull together, the look in his eye one you’ve never seen before. probably the most vulnerable and honest you’ve seen him look at you. 

“but i’m gonna do my best to be, angel, so please... don’t think that,” he says, pulling your arms away from your chest. 

he feels relief flood through him when you allow him to do say, his head dipping again to place small pecks on your chest before taking another nipple in his mouth. 

he moans around you at the same time you do, throwing your head back against his pillow. your fingers lace through the back of his pink hair and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing, moaning out his name when his tongue carefully and slowly licks around the other neglected one. 

“you also have the sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted,” he mumbles around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it one more time before grabbing your hips and throwing himself on his back. 

“so sit on my face, angel. now.”

you have no time to feel hesitant or insecure because, one, he pulls you up before you can do anything else and two, you’re far too eager to feel this for the first time. 

his tongue latching onto your clit causes you to moan out his name, trying your best to not buck your hips against his face. but his tongue feels like it’s everywhere, flicking at it your clit and up inside you and quickly making your legs shake around him. 

your hazy eyes look down and you see his own looking up at you, a hot arousal in them as you cover the rest of his face with your body. pink strands stick to his forehead and you bite down on your lip so you don’t scream, your eyes rolling back when he eats you out like a man starved.

he’s moaning against you and pulling you closer to his face, your hips bucking into his mouth as you whine out his name over and over. 

you’re so out of it and dazed with arousal and need that you don’t even think twice when an idea pops into your head. 

you buck your hips a tad harder than usual that he disconnects his mouth from you, about to ask if he hurt you somehow before you flip over on his face. your body leans over his stomach until your mouth is by the tight groin of his sweatpants, clumsily slipping down his boxers until his cock springs free.

it’s hard and red and looks completely neglected, screaming to be relieved by you.

so even though you have no idea what you’re doing, only guided by works of fiction and things you hear in the hallway, you wrap your mouth around the head of his cock.

you hear him growl at your name but only continue to suck him off, your tongue circling around him as your mouth moves up and down. you smile when he moans against your pussy just so moan around his a few seconds later, like he knew you were smiling against him at hearing that noise leave him.

he didn’t think he could get any harder than he already was but you continue to impress him and prove him wrong, his mouth working quicker on you to aid in his growing arousal. 

a loud moan of your name leaves his mouth when you deep throat him, a growled “fuck,” against your wetness that makes you whine against him. 

“i wanna fuck your mouth so badly,” he growls against you, wrapping his tongue around your clit just as you let out a strangled “please.” but he only shakes his head and continues his vigorous assault, sticking two fingers inside you that causes your scream to be muffled around his cock.

“you’re gonna come first, angel. i want you to come on my fucking face.”

and even though he already seemed to know it from the moment he met you, he sees that what he wants from you, he’s always gonna get. 

your lower stomach tightens before a feeling of euphoria consumes you, your legs shaking and hips bucking before an orgasm rips right through you. your head is leant against his head as you try to catch your breath, whining slightly when he pulls you off of him.

he lays you down gently on the bed before placing a kiss to your cheek. 

“you did so good, angel. how do you feel?”

“mmm.. that was the best thing i’ve ever felt.”

a deep laugh leaves him at your sleepy, dazed look, taking his shirt off so he can dab at your wet legs. you wince a little at the sensitivity and he mumbles an apology, laying on his back and opening his arms to you.

“lay with me, baby.”

a small smile crosses your face as you fall into his bare chest, sighing contently with your head resting over his chest. you can hear his heartbeat against your ear and feel his lips against your head, his fingers running over your arm slowly.

you’ve never been more comfortable and at ease than you are in this moment. even with the storm raging outside and the unknown parts of your relationship still coming, you feel happy. 

happy and safe and so stupidly content.  

“angel?”

you look up at him when you hear his voice break the silence, your chin against his chest as you meet his gaze. 

he smiles upon seeing you, his hand coming up to pat down your messy hair. 

“i like you. a lot.”

you bite down on your lip to hide your growing smile, daringly taking the first move to press a sweet peck on his lips.

“i like you, too. a lot, a lot,” you giggle out, the pink on your cheeks making his heart squeeze in his chest. “but i think you already knew that.”

“i was hoping,” he hums lowly, bringing you back into his chest. you smile against him as you inhale his scent, moving your body closer to him until you feel your leg hit a hard, fleshy piece of skin. 

your eyes widen and pulse quickens when you see he’s still hard and aching, the content look on his face completely disregarding it. 

“yeonjun...” you mumble, shamelessly staring at his dick a few inches from your leg. 

he peeks an eye open and sees you staring down at it, a sheepish smile crossing his face; he looks a tad embarrassed and you shouldn’t find it as endearing as you do. 

“sorry. it’ll go down eventually.”

eventually being when he gets up to go to the bathroom and jerks himself off. because there’s no way in hell he’s gonna go flaccid with you all naked and cuddled against him.

“you mean you’re not gonna fuck me?”

his eyes widen and cock twitches when those words leave your mouth, his hand falling to your jaw so you can look at him. his eyes roam your face when he sees the heavy desire building in your wide-eyed gaze, the perfect contrast of sweet and lustful that has him holding back a groan. 

“where did you learn to talk like this?” he hums lowly in your ear. 

you smirk against him before you bring your hand up to his mouth, his eyes searching yours. but you’re only staring back just as intensely, rubbing yourself against his leaking cock laying between you. 

“spit on it, please.”

he can’t even stop his groan from leaving him this time, painfully hard and ready to bust. you learned so fast what he likes and that’s when you’re both polite and eager.

“baby girl,” he moans, bringing his face down to place a messy, dominating kiss on yours. he pulls your mouths apart after allowing his tongue to explore your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips. 

his eyes fall to your mouth before he’s tipping your head back, your hand clutching onto his shoulder and tightening when, suddenly, he spits in your mouth. 

your eyes widen but he smirks before you can say anything, wordlessly bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting on it as you so requested. you let out a shaky sigh, eyeing him warily before he gives you a nod.

it’s only then that you wrap your hand around his cock, watching as his eyes flutter shut and he leans his head back. 

“there u go, angel,” he hums lowly, your hand twisting over the tip before exploring down. 

he can feel your hesitance and unsureness but it only makes it that much more enjoyable for him, knowing this is the first time you’ve done this - although he does wonder how you knew to spit on it first. 

his words spur you on and you wet your hand again, twisting and turning on every ridge of his cock. his moans of your name cause wetness to gather between your legs, your eyes meeting his to see them right on you.

“please fuck me, yeonjun.”

you didn’t have to ask him twice before he pushed you on your back. he fumbled to take his sweatpants off fully, discarding them on the floor before pulling you toward the end of bed.

you look down at him with furrowed eyebrows before a loud gasp leaves you, his mouth back on your pussy before he slides two fingers in. he preps you again until you’re coming around him, his mouth hot around you while his fingers are curled and relentless.

“p-please, yeonjun. i wanna- feel you.”

“and you will, angel, i promise,” he says, pressing one last kiss to your swollen, wet clit before going up to your face. “you’ve never done this before, right?”

he knows it and you know it but he still needs to ask. needs to know he’s gonna be the first person to take you and ruin you. 

“no,” you immediately respond, shaking your head as tears well up in your eyes. 

he responds by smiling, placing one last long kiss on your mouth before cupping your face gently.

“it might hurt, okay? i’ll go as slow as you need.”

you nod your head as you relax on your back, looking down to see him positioning himself between your legs. he swirls the tip of his dick around your wet clit and opening, watching as your dripping hole tries to suck him in.

“holy fuck,” he growls out, “you’re so wet, baby. it’s gonna feel so fucking good.”

you whine unintelligible words but he knows to just soothe you. bring his hand to your waist and rub slowly as he promises to be in you soon.

the stretch at first in painful and unfamiliar, your face pulled into a grimace despite the deep groan leaving him.

“oh, angel,” he growls lowly, his dark eyes meeting yours to see your face twisted in pain. “are you okay? does it hurt?”

“y-yes, but it’s okay. just... slow,” you say quietly, nodding your head reassuringly. 

he hovers over your face as he inches himself in further and further, your breaths shaky and body tense as the pain worsens. 

“i’m sorry, baby, you’re doing so good.”

you nod your head and he kisses away the tears, a sigh of relief leaving you when he stops moving. he’s still inside you for a few seconds, allowing your tight walls to adjust around him before he starts moving.

it takes a few thrusts for the burning pain to subside, replaced by a full, warm feeling that had you moaning quietly into the air. 

“does it feel good now, baby?” you hear yeonjun ask, his thrusts speeding up as his body lays over you. “do you like my cock in you?”

“y-yes,” you mumble out, throwing your legs around his waist. 

he growls lowly as he starts fucking into you, keeping his pace steady and just hard enough to make you lose your mind; because he doesn’t wanna hurt you but you also feel so good, he can’t help but chase after his orgasm.

“tell me you’re mine.”

“i-i’m yours, yeonjun,” you whimper out, his hand coming down to your clit making you cry out again. “i’m yours. yours, yours, yours,” you repeat dumbly, having no sense of control over yourself as an immense pleasure builds inside you. 

he thrusts into you hitting a certain spot that has a scream leaving your mouth, a sadistic smirk on his face.

“that’s right, angel. you’re mine. you’ve been mine ever since i saw you last year,” he growls lowly, remembering the first time he saw you and knew you were gonna somehow effect him like this. 

“i wanted to ruin you then, baby, because i knew you’d be mine.”

“yeonjun,” you whine, thrusting your hips into him at his words. remembering all the times he caught you staring at him. all the times you’d watch him and thought about how handsome he was.

how someone like him would never want someone like you. 

but he wants you and you want him and it’s still something you can’t quite believe. you know you’re both different but it seems to be something that works, him bringing you out of your comfort zone and you making him wanna be someone better.

“i’m gonna come, angel,” he grunts out, “i’m gonna fucking come. come with me.”

you feel the knot in your stomach unravel before you’re both moaning each other’s names, chests heaving and his breathing harsh as he holds himself lazily above you. 

he drops his head into the crook of your neck, attempting to catch his breath despite the feeling of your post orgasm spazzing around him.

the pounding takes a few seconds to subside, a final moan leaving him before he pulls out of you. 

he’s quick to collapse onto his back, hanging his arm off the bed lazily as he searches for his shirt. 

he cleans you up a few moments later, watching you with a small smile before he pulls you down onto him again.

“how was that?” he mumbles quietly, his eyes closed and head resting atop yours. 

“really good,” you mumble back, your own eyes closed as you attempt to catch your breath. you still feel a little sticky but it’s not something you mind in this moment, your post orgasm daze leaving you content. 

it could be the post orgasm daze making you say the next words that leave your mouth. on such a high of emotions and endorphins and utter contentment that the warm feeling in your chest if confused.

or maybe it’s the months of getting to know the boy beside you who had such a bad reputation. who you were terrified of at first and thought was mean an scary, thought for sure he was gonna find you weird and nerdy.

but you’ve never felt more wanted or desired by another person. no one’s ever looked at you the way he’s looked at you before or made you feel the way he’s made you feel. 

“i... i think i love you, yeonjun.”

love had always scared yeonjun and especially hearing a confession like that after sex - it had always been his worst nightmare and, truthfully, an embarrassing moment.

but he’s never felt as listened to and comforted by someone else ever in his life before. someone who, from the second he met them, trusted him and thought of him to be good and smart and capable. 

he didn’t know why and he didn’t know what he did for you to think of him that way but he knows he’s never gonna take it for granted. because from the second he saw you, he really did know you were gonna be his.

“i think i might love you, too, angel.”

[h0tchner]

Any Age, Any Day, Anywhere (Part 1) - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: WRITTEN FOR AN ANON REQUEST: "ok hi so u already wrote a jealous reader and was wondering whats your take on jealous hotch? i mostly see him in fics as possessive and yeah being the leader type i would think he could also be possessive but i also think that he would just be sad like ya know he doubts himself as we saw in some episodes and i think he would need assurance and a lot of convincing that u only love him but if you’ve given that to him then thats the time he would be possessive and god i would love to imagine a possessive and feral aaron hotchner"

word count: 3.5k

includes: kissing, so much freaking adorable fluff, talk of body insecurities, insecure!hotch, protective!hotch, wifey reader, super brief mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, confrontation with a drunk asshole (derek & hotch are all over it tho dw), party at papa rossi's!, smut to come in next chapter...

rating: 18+ (technically there is no smut in this part, but there are adult themes such as drinking, kissing, etc.).

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! This is part one of a two-part fic! The next part will be pure filth, so keep your eyes peeled for some feral hotch content... ALSO! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Aaron! Can you come here for a sec?” you call out to your husband from the bathroom, muttering curses under your breath as you try (and fail) for the third time to zip up the back of your black cocktail dress.

“Sure, I just need a minute,” he replies from the bedroom closet, securing the last opalescent button on the arm of his white dress shirt. He looks at himself in the closet mirror, zeroing in at the bags under his eyes and the sprinkling of grey in his stubble. He looks… tired. Tired and old. And he hates it.

Even though Aaron is only in his late-40s, he has lived lifetimes; years of working as Unit Chief of the BAU will do that to a man. Every horror he’s seen and every person he’s lost has weighed on his body and mind. In the past few months, amidst work changes and a new baby, he’s been exhausted and in fear that he’s letting himself go. Of course, being the stoic man that he is, he’s done his absolute best to hide these feelings from you. Tonight, however, he doesn’t know if he can. It’ll be your first night out together as a couple since welcoming baby girl Hotchner to the family four months ago. With no pressing family or work distractions, he just knows that you’ll be able to sense his apprehensions. It’s only a matter of when.

Taking in a breath, he turns a little to the side, frowning at his profile. Aaron winces a little at his “dad bod,” but quickly recovers from the discomfort, milliseconds after it flashes across his face.

“Aaron Hotchner get your handsome butt in here and help me zip my dress! We’re gonna be late,” you exclaim, trying one last time to reach the zipper before giving up and crossing your arms in defeat. You lean back lightly against the countertop facing the door, letting the fabric slip off your shoulders, and wait for your husband to rescue you from the hell that is this dress.

At the sound of your voice, Aaron snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head lightly, as if to physically erase the intrusive thoughts, and clears his throat. Grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger, he flicks off the closet light and closes the door behind him.

Languidly, he meanders from the closet toward the bathroom. He drags his feet a little longer than he normally would, still feeling off and a little bit shy about his appearance.

“Aaron,” you sing, “I’m waiting for –,” your jaw drops mid-sentence when Aaron appears in the doorway.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing over to you, searching your face for any ounce of reprieve.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you’re quick to reply, standing from your leaning position to meet him, holding out your hands.

He takes them in his own, cocking his head slightly, his soft hazel eyes boring into yours.

You shift forward, moving up on your toes to peck his soft pink lips.

He sighs into the kiss, feeling the warmth of your lips against his own. It feels so good that it almost makes him forget about how he is feeling… almost. But the dark thoughts come back, and he pulls away from you a bit, reluctantly.

Aaron clears his throat.

“You called me?” He questions, but it sounds more like a fact.

“Yeah,” you give his hands a squeeze. “I needed you to zip up my dress, but now,” you lean in again, “I kinda want you to rip it off me.” You offer him a sultry smirk, moving your hands up to rest on his broad chest. He moves his hands to settle on your hips.

You lick your lips and let your eyes rake over his body, taking in every ounce of his sexy frame. The way his crisp, white dress shirt hugs his solid body makes you go weak in the knees. His strong, toned legs in those black dress pants? Yes please. His soft black hair and salt and pepper stubble on his face are practically begging to be touched. He looks good. Damn good.

“You look…” you pause, tapping a finger lightly against his pectoral, searching for the right word, “…delicious.”

Aaron blushes lightly at your ogling, offering you a sad smile as he squeezes his eyes shut out of embarrassment.

You sense the falter in his demeanor, knowing that there’s something else nagging at him far beyond his usual flustering when you vocalize your attraction to him.

“Honey,” you implore, looping your hands around his neck to bring his forehead down to touch yours. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, swallowing, rubbing soft circles into your sides.

“It’s something,” you counter, carding a hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. You scratch lightly at his scalp, waiting for him to speak. You’ve learned that the best thing to do when Aaron gets in a mood is to give him some time to gather his thoughts. Keeping him close, physically, is a way to show him some comfort without pressuring him to speak. It encourages him, without words, that your arms are a safe place.

“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops himself. His dark eyebrows furrow and his mouth presses into a thin line.

“Mhm?” you question, fingers still tangled in his thick, black locks.

He pulls his forehead away from yours and locks eyes with you. You let your hands be still now, a silent gesture to show him that you’re listening.

He takes in a breath.

“I don’t look the way I used to,” he says quietly, shifting his eyes away from yours.

“What do you mean,” you urge him to continue.

“I mean, I don’t look like I did five years ago. Two years ago. Four months ago. I mean, I was practically a different man when we first met. I was younger, fitter…” he trails off, visibly upset.

“Yes, Aaron, you were,” you agree, keeping your tone temperate.

His eyes snap to yours, confused. It’s clear that was not what he was expecting you to say.

“You were a different man,” you continue gently, resuming your pacifying touch in his hair, “and I was a different woman.”

Aaron lets out a huff.

“Do you love me any less now than you did five years ago?” You ask him.

“Of course not,” he’s quick to answer.

“Why is that?” You prod.

“You’re gorgeous, inside and out. You’re funny, smart, loving…” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can go on.

“And,” you butt in, “if I were to go completely grey, gain thirty pounds, and only wear a potato sack to work every day would you love me any less?”

Aaron huffs again, but this time he’s fighting a smile. He’s starting to catch on. You watch as a spark of levity returns to his eyes. He holds you a little tighter.

“No. There’s nothing you could do or say to make me love you any less,” he grumbles in annoyance, but his upturned lip and matching eyebrow tell a different story.

“Ditto, baby,” you smile up at him. “I love you at any age, any day, anywhere, and there is nothing in the world that can make me change my mind.”

He dips down then, capturing you in a kiss, grinning against your lips.

You giggle as Aaron works his way down your jawline and neck, gasping as he kisses the soft skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, thick fingers gripping the sides of your hips. He moves his lips back up to your earlobe, nipping at it lightly as you let out another soft gasp.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he whispers into your ear, pressing another kiss right underneath it.

“Aaron, I know I said I wanted you to take this dress off me,” you say breathlessly as Aaron nips at your shoulder again, “but Rossi will kill us if we don’t show up tonight. Plus, I really want the chance to show off my super sexy FBI husband. It’s been far too long.”

He lets out a low groan into your skin and gives your hips a squeeze, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” you snort, eliciting a chuckle from your husband as you turn around in his arms to let him zip you up.

He takes his time, letting his fingers brush lightly over your spine as he draws the zipper over your back. When he’s done and the clasp is latched, he kisses one shoulder lightly, and then the other.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning back against his warm body.

“No, honey,” he kisses the top of your head, “thank you.”

_____________________________________________________________

By the time you and Aaron arrive at Rossi’s mansion, the party is already in full swing. Judging by the number of cars in the makeshift parking lot on his spacious front lawn, there must be at least fifty, maybe even a hundred people here.

Despite the bustle of the evening, it doesn’t take long for you two to find Emily, Penelope, and Derek in the living room, drinks in hand, snacking on some very expensive looking food.

“Hey, look! It’s the Hotchners!” Emily cheers, teetering on the arm of the leather couch, wine glass in hand.

“Hello beautiful BAU power-couple!” Penelope chimes in from the seat next to her, cuddled up into Derek’s side.

You laugh and let go of Aaron’s hand, walking over to greet your friends.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you, look at you!” Derek chimes in, eyeing you up and down before standing to shake Aaron’s hand.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at him as you give Emily a big hug.

“And you don’t look bad yourself, boss man!” Derek adds.

You shoot your husband an ‘I told you so’ look over your shoulder, before untangling your arms from Emily and giving Penelope an equally enthusiastic squeeze.

“It’s good to see you all,” Aaron smiles lightly, all dimples in the low light. He steps in to give Emily and Penelope soft hugs.

“Let’s go get you a drink,” Derek says to Aaron, clapping him on the back.

“White?” Aaron looks to you, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes please,” you respond, “thank you.”

“Be back soon,” he smiles easily, kissing your cheek, making your heart ache.

Aaron and Derek turn and exit the room together.

Penelope drunkenly pats the seat next to her, and you plop down on the couch.

“We’ve missed you like this!” Emily exclaims, gesturing between the three of you and around the room. “I can’t believe we’ve had to wait nine whole months plusanother four just to have a drink with our best friend again.”

You laugh at her, tilting your head back lightly. “Well, you guys got a beautiful little niece out of it, doesn’t that make up for all the wild girl’s nights I missed?”

Emily sighs, dramatically, “I guess so,” she jests.

“Oh, for sure.” Penelope adds. “You look freaking gorgeous, by the way. I mean, I would have never guessed you were creating a tiny human in that body only a few months ago!”

You blush lightly at her words, “You flatter me far too much, Pen. I owe this,” you gesture down at your figure, “all to Spanx!”

“Amen!” Emily toasts. You raise an imaginary glass to theirs and pretend to clink, taking a swig of invisible liquid.

“Are J.J. and Will here?” You ask them after they’ve had a few more sips of their wine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nods, “they’re around somewhere.”

You take a moment and look around the room, taking in all the sights and the sounds of the party. You see some faces you recognize from around the bureau, but others you don’t. Just as you’re about to turn back to your friends, someone catches your eye. One face stands out from the crowd: he’s a young, suave-looking man in a sharp navy suit. Sandy hair perfectly gelled, shiny brown loafers, and bright blue eyes looking right at you. In another life you would have been exhilarated by his attention, apparent charm, and good looks, but now? Now, you’re married to the love of your life with an amazing stepson and a wonderful baby girl. His wolfish gaze means absolutely nothing to you. You simply flash him a curt smile and turn back to Emily and Penelope without a second thought.

You and your friends resume your chatter, waiting for the men to return with more drinks... only they don’t. Perhaps its “new mother anxiety” talking, but the longer your husband is gone, the more you start to grow concerned. A few more minutes pass of antics, laughter, and catching up until the nagging voice in the back of your head turns into an all-out scream. All you know is that you’re suddenly feeling very overwhelmed need to be with Aaron. So, you announce to your friends that you’re going to hunt down Derek and your husband.

You stand from the couch and smooth out the skirt of your dress with the promise to be back in a few minutes.

You walk out of the living room and into the grand foyer, following the same route as Aaron had earlier. Your black kitten heels click on the marble flooring, the skirt of your dress swishing lightly as you walk with purpose towards the kitchen. You’re so concentrated on reaching your destination that you don’t realize the man who had been watching you in the living room was now hot at your heels, following you through the house. It’s only when a hand reaches out and jerks your arm backward that you stop, startled, just past the grand staircase, turning face to face with him.

“You’re not an easy woman to get alone,” he smirks, reeking of alcohol, still gripping your arm, tight. Up close he is decidedly not as handsome as the low light of the living room made him seem. In fact, he seems… creepy. Really, really, really, creepy.

“Can I help you?” You blink at him, pulling your arm out of his vice grip.

“You sure can, baby,” he steps closer to you, voice oozing with sleaze. You gag at the liquor on his breath.

Moving away, you scowl at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“What’s say you and I head upstairs for a little while? I’m dying to get my hands on your body.” He jerks his head toward the staircase, reaching out to grab your arm again.

You’re fuming at this point, ready give him a piece of your mind when a stern voice beats you to it.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” Aaron articulates, approaching you both with Derek not far behind.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your husband glares at the drunken man vengefully, coming to stand by your side. Aaron pulls you into him, roughly, hand tight around your waist. The anger radiating off your husband is equally terrifying and HOT.

“Take a walk, man,” Derek adds in, coming to stand next to the drunken asshole. The man looks from you, to Aaron, then over to Derek, and finally back at you.

“Whatever,” the man grumbles, putting his hands up, “she’s not worth it anyway. Not pretty enough for the hassle. I just thought she looked like an easy lay.”

“That’s enough,” Aaron snaps, seething. “Leave now, before I make you,” your husband growls. He angles his body forward so you’re slightly behind him. A shiver passes through you at his fierce protectiveness.

“Fine, I’m going to get another drink,” the man utters.

“No,” Aaron interjects, “the party. Leave the party or I’ll have you removed.”

“What’s your problem?” The creepy man retorts, this time, more confrontationally.

“My problem?” Aaron says, angrily. You feel his entire body tense at the accusation.

“Hotch,” Derek warns, “I’ll take care of it. You guys go enjoy yourselves. Forget about him.”

“Come on, Aaron,” you tug on his suit jacket lightly, eyes pleading… but Aaron doesn’t budge from his spot. He only holds you tighter as he continues to stare down the man as Derek ushers him away and towards the front door. He doesn’t falter until they are out of sight.

“Aaron?” You repeat.

He looks down at you, finally, blinking away the fury until all that’s left is an all-consuming love. He releases you from his protective hold, and you face him.

“I’m okay,” you assure him in earnest, letting out a shaky breath.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“Aaron, it’s okay, really,” you bite your lip, shifting your eyes away from his.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron kisses your forehead, and then the top of your head. “So, so beautiful, and I’m so sorry.”

“Aaron, can we just go home?” You ask.

“Sure,” he kisses your head one last time before weaving his fingers between yours and guiding you gently toward the back exit.

_____________________________________________________________

The car ride home is quiet. The only sounds are the occasional click of the turn signal, and the hum of the wheels on the road. Aaron is still upset, and so are you, but you’re also… something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel guilty for ruining the evening, guilty that you FEEL guilty for something you had no control over, hungry, tired, and… horny? Oh, and guilty for feeling horny.

It isn’t helping that one of Aaron’s hands is planted firmly on your thigh. He lifts it only to adjust the air conditioning or to scratch his nose, but otherwise it remains on you the whole way home. When he pulls into the driveway of your shared house, and shuts the car off, he still doesn’t move it.

“Honey?” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed. You take in the strong features of his profile, noting the prominence of his nose and the way his eyelashes rest on his high cheekbones.

“I almost punched him.” Aaron whispers, opening his eyes to look over at you sheepishly.

“You what,” you exhale, mouth slightly agape.

“That guy,” he continues, bringing his left hand up to pinch his nose. “I almost punched him for saying that about you.”

You snort, amused by his confession.

Your husband lets out a short laugh, squeezing your thigh as he does.

“I would’ve liked to see that.” You’re grinning now and so is he.

He flashes his eyes at you and laughs again, this time less anxiously. You join him, feeling the tension dissipate with every passing moment.

“My big, bad FBI man decking a barely-legal drunk dickhead for making a move on his wife? Where can I get my tickets?” You joke.

As you say the words “his wife,” Aaron’s breath hitches in his throat. His hand on your thigh presses down instinctively. Neither of his reactions go unnoticed.

You lay a hand over his where it rests on your leg.

“You know, Aaron,” you begin.

He looks over at you, jaw tight, but this time it isn’t from anger.

“This is the first time we’ve had the house all to ourselves in months,” you pull his hand off you and bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist.

“This… is true,” he breathes out, studying you, taking you in.

“So, I’m just wondering:” you grin, linking your fingers with his, “are you going to carry your wife into our house, Aaron? Or do I have to walk myself?”

[fckwritersblock]

More Than Therapy

Bucky x black!reader

Warning: sooooo there is smut ahead. Okay like, not complete filth but it’s there! Who even knows what this is, but enjoy it!

Pic below from post by @afriendlyblackhottie

(Unedited.)

“Look, I’m not saying that she’s not a great therapist, I’m just think that she’s not your style.”

Bucky didn’t hide his eye roll.

For the past 2 weeks, Sam had been trying to convince him he needed a second option. Ever since he had his own encounter with Bucky’s therapist, which consisted of being forcefully included in one of their sessions, he could see it wasn’t really helping Bucky at all. Not that Sam was an expert or anything, he just knew his.....friend.

“Alright Sam, fine.” Bucky sighed tossing the wrench to the side. “So what. I kick my therapist to curb, then what? You got some kind of recommendation or something?”

Sam just smirked before turning and making his way off the boat.

“Actually I do.”

Now here Bucky was, waiting on another person to come and try to break down all his walls and get in his head and help him with through his ‘issues’.

“Waste of time.” He mumbled to his self.

However, when she walked in the door, that thought quickly left.

“I’m Y/n.”

“James”

“It’s nice to meet you James.”

For the first time in a very long time Bucky felt comfortable almost immediately. The conversation didn’t feel forced, he didn’t feel pressured, it was just easy. Y/n didn’t push and pry. She simply let him answer the way he want and what he wanted. She let him sort of control the conversation. It was refreshing.

From then on, he saw her twice a week. Their first two weeks together was just them getting to know one another. Establishing trust on Buckys end. He appreciated that for once the woman so much pressure for him to be OK so soon. Finally, after about a month or so, they were doing a little exercises here and there to work through his trauma. The first assignment, it was actually pretty similar to the last psychiatrist he had seen. To get out and make at least one friend. Find an activity or something that he enjoys.

“So have you been getting out like we discussed?”

“Yeah I’ve gone out.” He nodded carelessly with a grin as he sat across the table from her.

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “To places besides the bar.”

“Yes.”

“Liar.” She said and it was her turn to grin as she held her hand out.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, handing over his phone. Bucky watched her click a few buttons knowing she was checking his contacts. This was like Deja vu.

“You have the same amount of numbers in your phone as last week Barnes.”

“Not true Doc, I have you.” He smiled sheepishly.

“I hardly count Barnes.” A small smile graced her face nonetheless.

She was quiet for a moment and he took that opportunity to study her. In deep thought. Y/n had a tell. She’d bite the corner of her bottom lip on the right side every time she was trying to figure something out. Usually before she came up with his homework before the next session.

“I have a thought but you’re not gonna like it.” She began after while.

“Lay it on Doc.”

“I don’t feel like you are actively trying to be a part of society. What you’ve been doing, trying to right your wrongs of the other guy...” she drifted for a moment. “It’s futile. You don’t need to do that. That-“

Y/n paused taking a deep breath.

“That’s not you.” She spoke softly.

“But that is me! I am winter soldier!” He yelled on his feet quickly.

Anger. He was familiar with the feeling. Angry was something he just couldn’t seem to stop feeling. Even if he didn’t show it, it was like he was angry all the time. However feeling it with her was unfamiliar. And he could feel the inner turmoil of him taking his frustrations out on her as he tried to push that anger back down.

“Were.” Y/n stated with finality, voice strong. “You were the winter Solider. And that wasn’t you. That’s just a couple of dark chapters in the book of your life. That’s it.

“You don’t know m-“

“But that is not you.” She repeated a little louder commanding forcing him to look her dead in the eyes. “That’s not who you are, James. And while I may not have known you pre-hydra, or during, but I’m knowing you now. And that’s just not you.”

Y/n leaned back in her chair.

“I know that here, Bucky.” She grinned a little placing her hand over her heart and tapped twice. “And deep down, so do you.”

“. You, James Buchanan Barnes, you are not the bad guy.

The anger he had been feeling had subsided and I was replaced with something that was completely unfamiliar to him. Something he longed for couldn’t quite the grass. Something that he didn’t even realize was in within his reach until noon.. The feeling, regardless of how unfamiliar it was with something Bucky didn’t think he wanted to go away.

The silence between them was comfortable. Y/n could tell that he was processing her words. It was a good thing, she could because he was no longer good tense and his stance was relaxed instead of defensive.

“You know what? We’re finished for today. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She declared.

“What?” Bucky snapped out of his tranced and frowned. “Doc, come on. I shouldn’t be seeing you til Thursday.”

“Yeah tomorrow,” she nodded with a smile. “I want to try something different.”

The next day but he showed up at their usual time, 11 AM. When he stopped at a reception to ask for Dr. Y/n they informed him she was out for the day. He frowned and turned to leave only to find her approaching him from the elevator.

“Hey! You ready to go?” Y/n offered a gentle smile.

“I thought we were-“ he asked went fo point back toward her office but she stopped him.

“We are. We’re just doing things differently today.” She informed him, before nodding her head toward the elevator. “Let’s go.”

Their day together was eventful to say the least. Their first stop was her favorite coffee spot. It was actually a little hole in the wall called Hippies Brew in the downtown area. A cool modern place full of friendly and eccentric individuals. It was comfortable. Homey. It wasnt one she’d typically recommend clients, but she would recommend it to friends. After that they were too the aquarium followed by the park where they sat on a park bench for lunch. Lunch being tacos from the El Gordo’s taco truck parked near by. Well a lot of the time at the park or spit in silence, it was still comfortable as a people watched together. While Bucky hated to admit it, this is the first time he really just felt at peace. There was no one looking over him with some unrealistic expectation of him to be Steve, and become so hero he wasn’t. There was no pressure to get his shit together right then and there. He was just simply allowed to be Bucky. Unapologetically.

“Walk with me?” He asked.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, surprised he initiated doing something together, but agreed with a smile.

Soon enough they easily fell into conversation of as they began to walk the lake.

Before they knew it, the sun was beginning to set. Their time together lasted longer than Y/n planned but either was it was nice. She enjoyed today, as did he. Bucky’s offered to walk her back to her car, savoring their last few moments together.

“Are you sure I can’t give you a ride home?” Y/n asked as they got closer to her car in the now empty lot.

“Yeah, Doc, lm sure.” He smiled back at her, her smile and laugh being infectious. “I like walking. It gives me time to think. it’s peaceful. Kind of like today.”

Y/n’s smile widened at his confession. So her idea did work. He was making progress.

“ That’s what you deserve James peace. I can’t promise every day is gonna be like this.” She turned away approaching the driver side door. “I mean, it is life there are going to be some bad days. But you do deserve some peace. Some happiness.

She turned to see that he was a lot closer than she thought saying that he was preparing to open the door for her. She swallowed, suddenly feel in the air around them shift. As she ran her tongue over her lips, Bucky’s eyes zeroed in on the action.

“You just have to let yourself have it.” She said softly.

It was in that exact moment where James decided he was going to do just that; let himself have happiness. And without thinking, he leaned forward and connected his lips with her.

He pulled away almost as soon as it happened eyes wide.

“James…” y/n finger tips traced her lips as she stared at him.

“I am, i, I don’t know-“ Bucky stuttered.

He went to take a step back but was stopped. This time it was her who initiated the kiss.

What started off as gentle, turned into her fisting a handful of his shirt put him closer with his hands wrapped around her waist. The heat that washed over them both, was like a moth to a flame. The passion poured into the kiss from both ends quickly consuming them both. The two fighting for a dominance, it wasn’t until they both harshly pushed against her car setting the alarm off that they snapped out of it.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry wh-“ Y/n’s eyes were wide as she looked around anxiously.

Bucky could sense her panicking.

“y/n-“

“ I am so sorry. That was highly inappropriate of me-“

“Breathe for me doll-“ he reached for her but she pulled her hand away shaking her head vigorously.

“I can’t, we can’t, I have never.” She took a deep breath, her next words still coming out shaky. “I’m so sorry. To take a vantage of you like that-“

“I was the one who-“ he attempted once more to no avail.

“I have to go. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” She rushed out, flinging her door open and getting in the car.

All Bucky could do was watch as she wasted no time peeling out of the parking lot.

That was the last he had seen or heard of her. It had been almost two weeks and she had canceled both his weekly sessions and hadn’t answered any of his calls or returned any of the messages he left both at the office and on her cell phone.

And boy, was he stressed about it.

He had never felt that kind of passion before. To be honest it was something he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. He had been consumed by anger for so long, he wanted to cling onto whatever else, anything else. Bucky would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the chemistry between them. He came to the conclusion he’d been falling for her for a while, and was clearly in denial until that day they spent the day together. It’s not like he was trying to fall for his therapist. But now that he had...Ge had to at least try. Make sure what he was feeling wasn’t one sided.That spark. It was a feeling, a high he had never felt. One he knew he’d forever be chasing and he wanted it again and again and again. So when the third week approached he decided to take matters into his own hands.

A knock her door tore her away from Grey’s Anatomy.

“Coming!”

Pulling her dress down, she went and answered the door.

“Bucky.” She said his name breathlessly.

“Y/n.” He breathed out, happy to be in her presence even though it hurt slightly to hear her suddenly calling him Bucky.

He quite liked when she called him James. He liked the way she said his name.

“What are you-, how.” She tried to control her breathing. “You can’t be here.”

“I need you,” he signed. “To hear me out.”

“Bucky-“

“James.” He corrected her. “Look, I know this totally inappropriate but I-“

James paused taking in her appearance, noticing the purple bruising around her lower right eye above her cheekbone.

“Who?” He questioned through gritted teeth.

“Huh?”

He huffed pushing past her and moving in and around the apartment as if someone would come out and confess. He turned toward her a wild look in his eye.

“Give me. A name, Y/n.”

“James....” she signed.

While he knew she was talking seeing as her lips were moving, It was like he could hear her but he wasn’t hearing her. Bucky couldn’t focus on anything other than a bruise on the side of Y/n’s beautiful face. It had been along time since Bucky had thought of actually hurting somebody, save for John Walker last week which was another story entirely, whoever did this to her face though, he wanted to hurt them bad and he was going to enjoy it. His eyes traveled down toward her lips and he still couldn’t hear her. All he could hear was his fist repeated smashing into said individuals face. Over, and over, over-

“James!”

The sound of her voice finally resonated and he finally focused on her words.

“Come back to me James.” Her voice was gently. Inviting.

Everything he noticed both her hands on the side of his face, her thumb rubbing soothingly.

“It’s fine.” She said slowly removing her hands away as she explained. “There’s no need to hunt anyone down. Just a regular 50150 patient and things got out of hand. It happens.”

“No one should touch you.” He stated with seriousness.

Y/n stared at him for a moment, the right side of her lip pulled between her teeth, eyes pooling with something he hadn’t seen in her before. She shrugged nonchalantly.

“I kind of like it when you touch me.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper but he heard her loud and clear.

Just like before, it started off with light kisses, which soon turned into a bit of teasing, a little lip nipping, before things got extremely heated. Both his shirt had been discarded while the straps of her dress were pulled down revealing her black Savage Fenty bra. They had somehow moved from the living room to the kitchen island. Bucky stood between her legs one hand tangled in her braids while her hands held the sides of her face, gently caressing the stubble. Her legs were wrapped around his middles as she began grinding her hips into him. He pulled her closer, the both of them on a high from the friction. Bucky’s metal hand traveled up her bare back giving her goosebumps. They broke apart for air and as soon as Y/n had enough oxygen in her lungs, she went back to licking, kissing and sucking on his neck.

"Shit, Y/n.” Bucky unconsciously tilted his head back giving her better access, his hands palming her ass as his hips bucked into her.

"James." Y/n pulled back panting, lips swollen. " I want you. Now."

Bucky made quick work of removing her panties that coated in her juices , and in return y/n quickly unbuckled his pants using her feet to aid her in pushing them down.

“Shit.” He groaned immediately as she whimpered slightly at the feel of him sliding into her.

Her arms were wound around his neck while his hand gripped the top of her ass to keep her in place as he begin to slowly thrust in and out of her.

Bucky was on a high. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this level of intimacy. Euphoria. He was sure this feeling should be illegal.

The way she were wrapped around him, he knew if he didn’t take it semi slow he wasn’t going to last.

“James,” she moaned, clawing at his back, walls clenching.

He wasn’t sure what sounded sweeter; her moaning or his name leaving her lips.

“Doll?” He responded, kissing the at the base of her neck.

I’m clos-“ Y/n sucked in a breath of air. “Right there.”

“There?” He asked spreading her ass cheeks apart so he could go deeper.

“Yes! Right there!”

It was a bit sloppy from there as Bucky shifted for a better angle. Her ass halfway off the table as he picked up the pace bit her her closer to the edge. He was bouncing her up and down on his shaft effortlessly. Her arms wrapped right around his neck, kiss sloppy as she bit her lip to keep her moans at bay.

“No,” he breathed out, reaching up with one hand forcing her to kissing him, her moans filling his mouth instead. “I want to hear you.”

“James, I’m-“

“I know.”

The sight of Y/n coming undone before him was a glorious one . He couldn’t wait to make her cum again.

Once she came down from her orgasm, she placed her lips back on his, tightening her legs around him once more. He shifted their position a bit and begin again when suddenly the front door opened and in walked Sam.

“Oh shit!” Bucky pulled out of her and struggled to pull up his pants and turned to shield her half naked frame.

“Sam!” Y/n squealed pulling her dress up to her chest as best she could.

“What in the entire fuck!” Sam screamed while covering his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Y/n yelled.

“You told me toy were off!”

“I’m am off!”

“Well I thought I’d bring you dinner! I didn’t know id find this!” Sam said exasperatedly.

Y/n and Bucky were decent informing Sam he no longer had to cover his eyes. Immediately he pointed an accusatory finger at Bucky.

“You! What the fuck did I tell you about my sister?”

Bucky stared at him confused.

“You said not to flirt with your sister.” He repeated Sam’s words. “Sarah’s not..”

He then turned toward Y/n, things finally clicking.

“You’re Sam’s sister.” Bucky concluded.

“Baby sister.” Sam. added.

“I’m grown as hell Samuel!” Y/n fussed.

“Really bruh, my baby sister?!”

“Well how i suppose to know you only refer to her as baby!”

“Once again! I’m grown as fuck-“ she stopped hearing the front door creek open again.

“Who’s that?!” The woman’s eyes were wide with horror as she whispered.

“The boys!” Sam exclaimed in a whisper.

“Why didn’t you say they were here-“ she began frantically washing her hands.

“I’m sorry I was a little fuckin preoccupied with the fact my sister is fucking an assassin-

“Former assassin!” Bucky corrected.

“Hey TT!” Sarah’s boys greeted simultaneously with smiles as they bent the corner.

“Hey my babies!” Y/n instantly put a smile on her face pulling them each into her arms.

“Hey Bucky!” Cass waved

“Hey Bucky!” AJ addressed the solider as well before turning back toward his brother, “Cass , come on.”

“Wait let me put the pizza on the counter-“

“No!” The three adults exclaimed together.

“No boo, I’ll take it.” Y/n smiled again at her nephew taking the pizza.

“why don’t yall go in the living room and get the game set up?” Sam suggested.

“Yes! Let’s take the pizza in there while they bleach the kitchen?” Y/n hinted at the men while telling the kids to follow her.

“Oh yeah! TT, Uncle Sam got us two new video games!”,AJ informed her. “He also said we can watch a scary movie tonight since moms not here.

“Yeah! Andddd, he said we can door dash ice cream!” Cass added as the two kids followed their aunt into the living room.

Though he was silent, throughout the entire interaction but he couldn’t help but want you living room interact with the two kids. Back in the day, if you would’ve asked him if he believed in love at first site he would’ve said no. But he was pretty sure he was in love with Y/n already.

Once out of sight, Bucky took that opportunity to speak after a beat.

“Have I ever told you I’m glad you treat your nephew’s so well, Sam?” He asked after clearing his throat.

Sam sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Bucky turned to him with a huge grin on his face.

“Cuz I’m gonna give you another one.”

Slowly Sam began to laugh, albeit one full of sarcasm, Bucky joined in sincerely. They laughed together for a moment before Sam ceased, his face expressionless.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah Sam?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Dance, Dance

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: there’s been too much going on ever since you started messing around with your best friend.

Pairings: Colin Shea x Black!Best Friend!Reader

Warnings: minors dni, smut, angst, fluff

(A/N: yaaaay it’s done. This was a fun little series. I loved writing it. Titled after the song Dance, Dance by Fall Out Boy. Thanks everyone that enjoyed. Like, follow, reblog, and comment ☺️)

»»——————————-　♡　—————-————-««

You didn’t even know it was possible for you to fake smile for this long. As much as you enjoyed doing the whole music thing, industry shit was kind of the worse. You’d been overdue for at least a glass of champagne, but now you needed something stronger like whisky.

Things had been hectic lately. Just getting stuff ready and playing ball. The label that signed you was a smaller offshoot of a bigger one and so now you were here watching Colin take one for the team and schmooze it up since he knew the rest of you hated this part.

It wasn’t like you were bad at the whole thing. It’s just there was only so much you could deal with before finally reaching your limit. And all the old men ogling you was definitely something you could live without.

“Hey,” Ryan, your bass player, greeted as he sat beside you. It was kind of funny seeing the rest of them in suits and shit. You didn’t think they could wear anything but jeans and converse.

Hell for Colin clothing was already optional. Now he was there wearing a suit. Playing the part. And doing it well. You couldn’t lie, though. He looked good as hell. Obviously you weren’t the only one to notice. The woman whispering in his ear right no clearly saw it too.

“Hey,” you said with a sigh. This dress was scratchy as hell, but it was cute. It was probably worth more than your rent so you were really trying to not mess it up. Fuck you felt awkward.

So, yeah things had been a little weird since they’d walked in on you on Colin’s lap. Not that they could see that his pants had been undone from how you were but let’s just say the rest of the band had been doing this thing where they’d been trying to figure out your couple name ever since.

Still you didn’t know how to act around them. Especially since you’d left like your ass was on fire. Unlike with the whole girlfriend thing, the two of you didn’t get the chance to talk even a little after that. It felt like life was pulling the both of you in so many directions what were you even supposed to say. Sure the guys managed to squeeze their jokes in but other than that nothing.

You’d had photo shoots and meetings and just all kinds of shit. Sure this was definitely the life you wanted and you kind of appreciated the distraction. Didn’t mean you wanted to keep living in limbo with him. So it’s not like you’d been avoiding him so much as finding the time to have serious conversations was kind of not there.

At the same time it’s like were you even prepared for whatever he had to say. You don’t give a guy head and then make out with him for him to stop and start with ‘I just don’t think-‘ and expect him to say something not terrible. Especially not a guy like Colin. Even if you were holding out hope.

You knew his track record going into it. Which is why those rules had been in place. You’d been around a thousand Colin’s. You knew how it went. It was hit it and quit it every time. What made you different. If he really wanted to talk he would have. Nothing had ever kept him from telling you dumb shit all the time. Suddenly he couldn’t text?

Whatever. You didn’t even want to care. This was about the music. It was your fault anyway. You’d known better than to get tangled up in him but you’d done it anyway. You’d just have to live with that.

“So what are we doing tomorrow?” He asked.

You shrugged with a sigh. “I dunno. Was just thinking about keeping a low profile. I’m not really feeling it right now.”

Ryan frowned. “You know Colin doesn’t care,” he replied with a chuckle. “You know how he gets.”

“That’s fine,” you replied with a small smile with a shrug, bringing your glass of whiskey up to your lips. Thank goddess for an open bar, though, right. At least that would help you through the night.

“Okay so,” Colin said finally coming over to plop down beside you on a barstool,“how we feeling about an after party?”

You shrugged while him and Ryan started talking it over. If anything you’d probably go back to the hotel but whatever.

You rested your chin on your fists as the boys talked. It’s not that you wanted to be sad girl right now. You should be the happiest you’d ever been and you were but fuck this is gonna sound so lame but you missed your best friend. But no you forgot to wear underwear and now apparently neither of you knew how to act around each other.

“What about you?” He asked. “You know we’re no good without our fearless leader.”

“I thought this was a party,” you said setting your glass down. “I didn’t realize I was leading you into battle.”

Colin chuckled. “Oh it’s us against the world, Baby. There’s always a war.” He winked as he grabbed your glass. Not even phased when you protested and made grabby hands for it. “I’ll get you a new one if you say yes.”

“Eat a dick,” you grumbled then tried to get the bartender’s attention.

“Who pissed in your iced coffee?” He asked with a chuckle. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Better than whatever the fuck this is.” Can’t argue with that.

You shrugged. “I’ll see. I’m kinda tired.”

He pouted. “Don’t be a party pooper. Come on. Don’t you wanna hang with us. Keep us out of trouble.”

“Keep him out of trouble,” Ryan corrected making you laugh.

“Yes. Fine. Keep me out of trouble.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on. I’ll make it worth it.”

“How?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well,” he started as he thought, “I’m already taking you out for breakfast tomorrow so that’s out.”

“You are?” You asked with a chuckle. This was news to you.

“Um, duh,” he said before poking your side. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. It’s not that serious.”

Colin sighed, rolling his eyes. “Come on. I promise it’ll be fun.” He nudged you. Then his face softened. “Do you really not wanna go?”

No, but even though you were irritated with him you still felt like a lovesick puppy. And his eyes had gotten all romantic looking. It was so hard not giving in to him.

That’s how you found yourself out in the New York air. Crossing your arms in front of you. “What’s this?” You asked as you walked up to a limo.

“Our ride,” he said, into your ear.

“Hey, Colin,” the woman greeted him with a smile as she walked passed to get in. “You coming?”

He had the nerve to smile at you all brightly as he grabbed your arm. “Isn’t this cool,” he said as he sat beside her. You on the other side of him. Why didn’t you just go back to the fucking hotel when you had the chance.

The entire way to the party was filled with them laughing and talking. The entire time you were thinking say something, anything, but no you sat there awkward as hell. Ryan and your drummer James were sort of trying to include you while your rhythm guitarist Parker had decided to go to the hotel. You wish you’d just gone with him. You knew that’d be your first mistake.

You hated being in such a sour mood. Especially with so many people around. “You want a drink or something?” Colin asked into your ear, trying to talk over the loud music. You sighed, putting on another smile on as you nodded.

You tried to follow behind him, but this place was crowded. Looking back you saw that Ryan and James were no longer next to you either. Shit. Way to make this situation better, right.

Well Colin was right at least. This was better than that place crawling in suits. You walked along trying to find at least one of the men you came with and you were officially over it. Then you saw the balcony and decided to check out there next.

The fresh air was kind of nice. Maybe you just needed to clear your head for a minute. Hell you were ready to go to bed anyway.

Maybe tomorrow you’ll spend the day in the city. Doing whatever you wandered upon. No thinking about the next few months and how everything’s going to go from zero to one hundred. Not that you weren’t looking forward to it, but for now you wanted to welcome a little bit of peace.

Hopefully there’d be no thoughts about a certain guitar player either. That you doubt, but you could try. You yawned and groaned. Fuck it you’re leaving.

“Of all the people I thought I might see tonight,” a familiar voice said before you could get inside.

That voice made you stiffen. Then you started groaning as you turned to face him. “As if my night couldn’t get any worse. What are you even doing here?”

“What you think you’re the only one that gets invited to parties?” He asked.

When you’d parted from your last band, it wasn’t exactly the nicest situation. You always made your rule clear even if you’d broke it with Colin. Even with him it’s not like he did what Andrew did.

Things had been going okay with them, but it was nothing like now. This time around it felt so real. Like musically you were meant to be. Maybe that’s why you didn’t want to ruin things by blowing up even if Colin was sending you enough mixed signals to write an album about.

Back then though. It wasn’t like this. Yeah you liked your other bandmates back then, but with Colin, Ryan, and James it almost felt like a family. You all meshed. You all got along. Despite everything going on you loved them.

With Andrew’s band there was never a connection. You played. You went home. Over and done with. So the night he corned you, trying to kiss you it came out of nowhere. When you told the rest of them didn’t care. You were replaceable. Then you saw that flyer and decided to say fuck it and quit.

“What are you doing here?” He asked now, taking out a cigarette.

You shrugged. “That’s none of your business.”

He scoffed. “Heard you guys got signed. Who’d you sleep with to manage that?”

“Well, it wasn’t you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Who you here with? The new guys you’re blowing?”

You clenched your jaw before taking a deep breath. He didn’t know. Who the fuck cares. So you started walking away because you really did not give two shits.

“Yeah, my friend Dina was telling me you fucked her ex,” he said.

Your back stiffened as you stopped. Closing your eyes. God you wanted to scream at him, but he wasn’t worth the trouble. Wasn’t worth causing a scene. That’s what you told yourself last time and that’s what you were telling yourself now.

“Yeah said she walked in on you too,” he said coming up behind you.

“Dina doesn’t know what what she’s talking about.” You took a deep breath then bit your tongue, but still didn’t turn to face him.

“Well she sure had a lot to say. About how much of a whore you turned into after being a little tease.”

You closed your eyes suddenly feeling sick. You shouldn’t let it get to you. You knew it but fuck. This is why you didn’t do this. You didn’t need the drama.

“Dude, fuck off,” you finally said wrapping your arms around yourself as tried walking away again, trying to tune out whatever shit was spewing out of his mouth.

Promising yourself that you wouldn’t cry. Eyes finally catching Colin’s as he did a grin spread and then quickly fell from his face. Standing around the same girl from earlier. At least he managed to keep up with her.

He started walking towards you without a word and seeing his way was the only way towards the exit there was no avoiding him. That’s when you felt fingers grabbing at your wrist. Twisting your arm so you had no choice but to face him.

In between the, “you little sl-“ and Colin pushing him away from you, you’d ended knocking into someone. Beer spilling on the front of your dress. Way to make a shitty moment even worse guys. This was a fucking loan. Thanks for that. Fuck tonight just wasn’t your night huh.

“I’m so sorry,” a drunk girl slurred, putting her hands on your shoulders.

“No it’s okay,” you sighed feeling your eyes prickle with tears. Fuck you hated it. Your chest suddenly feeling tight. You had to get the fuck out of here.

As soon as you made it to the elevator you took a deep breath. Closing your eyes and leaning down the wall as the doors closed.

“What the hell was that?” Colin said. You squeezed your eyelids. The little bit of frustration that had left, coming back in an instant. “Did he hurt you?” He asked, grabbing your hand. “What the hell happened?”

“Stop,” you said, snatching it away. “Just… stop.” Your heart felt like it was sinking into your chest. You just wanted to eat and shower snd sleep. Fine fuck it. Shower and sleep. You’ll eat in the morning. You just wanted Colin to stop following you and for him to shut up.

“Hey!” He stopped you as soon as you got off. “What’s wrong? Just tell me what happened.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to pretend to care okay.” You shrugged. “You weren’t thinking about me ten minutes ago.”

“What do you mean I was looking all over for you,” he said furrowing his eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes again. Ugh it felt like you couldn’t stop. “Yeah, it sure looked like it.”

“I was. You can ask Ryan and James. Alyssa was helping me.”

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid, Colin?” You asked raising your eyebrow. “I get it. We messed around and you’re a fuckboy or whatever. It’s not like I was expecting to be different or something. You do this all the time. That’s fine but you don’t have to pretend like you give a shit. And I’m the fucking idiot for thinking you would because I thougt-” your voice broke as you just shook your head and walked away.

Colin stood there looking stunned. Feeling like he was one second away from puking. Finally taking a deep breath when he realized that if he didn’t catch up to you know you’d get into a taxi without him.

“Wait, Y/N,” he called out.

But you didn’t turn around. Heart thumping in your chest. You blew out your cheeks and rested your head against the window. Feeling there was a lump in your throat.

You felt like such a baby. All teary eyed in a cab. Red eyed as you made your way to your room. Crying in the shower. Then not stopping as you settled into bed. And for what. You fucking up the one thing you always told yourself. Listening to your stupid vagina. And your heart as much as you hated to admit it.

Not only was it stressful to think about what this would do for the band, but you and Colin had really built up the best connection. Now what happens. You’re not gonna get that with someone else. And that was the worst part.

Your eyes were so heavy, but you were suddenly so awake. All that complaining about being tired. Now look you can’t even sleep. Your head felt too heavy. Nose too stuffy, too.

You scrolled through your phone. And may or may not have done a small dive into who this Alyssa girl could be. Then message after message started rolling in now that it was a little passed midnight. You’d get to them in the morning. You’d also stole his weed pen so you could relax a little bit.

So. Sucks to be him.

That’s when you heard the door open. Stomach flipping and mouthing, ‘fuck.’ Dropping your phone because if you could pretend you were asleep maybe he’d leave you fuck alone. Ugh he probably got the key from the front desk.

The television was still on and it’s not like he’d never walked in on you sleep in front of the TV before so he’d think nothing of it. Your back was facing the door so it’s not like he could see you. You’ll take your chances.

You heard crinkling and him shuffling a little, but you were mostly trying to be quiet. A few moments later you heard him getting down on his knees beside you. “Hey,” he whispered into your ear before kissing your temple.

Nope. Go away.

“I know you’re awake you little thief.” He chuckled, but then stopped when he realized you clearly weren’t giving in. Turning over away from him. Colin took a deep breath. “Babe, I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrow raised. Okay so maybe you weren’t expecting that.

“I’m sorry I lost you tonight,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for not talking about things sooner. And if I made you think there was anything going on with me and Alyssa. Who does not like me by the way. She’s into Ryan,” he added, with a chuckle.

You snorted out a laugh. “Seriously?” Finally breaking your silence.

“Uh huh.” He laughed. “I know right. They kept dragging me between them once he found out. I felt like I was in fucking middle school.”

Then it got quiet.

“I’m sorry if I made you think you were just a booty call,” he finally said.

Your eyes opened, but you still didn’t turn to face him. You weren’t really sure what you were supposed to say or do if you did.

“You have always been more than a booty call. I get that I’ve done things before, but I’d never treat you like that. Why do you think we haven’t had sex. I couldn’t have our first time be on that gross fucking couch.”

… fair.

Ugh.

UGH.

You wanted to pull his hair. Not even in the sexy way. He was so annoying. Why couldn’t you just have been asleep so you could have been mad at him for a little longer.

Colin didn’t wait for you to respond as he got in behind you. Scooping you into his arms from behind. “You’re my best friend, Baby. I’d never fuck us up. I don’t wanna lose you.” Then he started kissing your cheek softly.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumbled, but still didn’t turn over.

“Maybe,” he said. “But it’s cuz I can’t stand when you’re mad at me.” He sighed wrapping you up in his arms. “Remember that one time? And it was just over lyrics.” He chuckle. Then when he realized you weren’t laughing he sighed again. “I promise I’ll make tomorrow better. Well today. Or whatever. You know what I mean.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t run in here on some I have to be the first shit.” You finally turned to look at him and he was quick to kiss your forehead. Eyes ask puffy. Nosy really stuffy. He didn’t care. Just wanted to have his lips on you.

“I am, but now I can’t stop apologizing.” He chuckled. “I really am sorry.”

“We can work on your road to forgiveness plan.”

“As long as you’re the one paving it I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so corny.”

“Maybe.” He chuckled. “I’m just trying to get you to smile.”

You sniffled. God he was so annoying. “I know.”

He looked at you softly before swiping his lips across yours. “Okay now I’m gonna be the first person. Happy birthday, Baby.”

Another sniffle as you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling softly. “Thank you. How do you know you’re the first?”

“Oh you’re cool because all our little fan girls are wishing you a happy birthday,” he said with a laugh.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Never. You deserve it.”

“Stop being such a fucking sap right now.” You whined pushing him away.

“Nope. I actually have a surprise for you,” he said, letting go so he could get out of bed. “No peeking!” Then he kissed your cheek again.

Of course you weren’t gonna listen, but since he wasn’t made of glass you couldn’t see. His body blocking whatever view you may have had. Just heard the flicker of a lighter.

“So, I was gonna go with the old fashioned flowers and chocolate for an apology,” he started. “But since it’s your birthday,” he said as he turned around with a little cake in his hands, freshly lit numeral candles on top.

As he softly started to sing happy birthday you felt yourself tearing up again. Of course he had to do something like this. Sappy asshole. Just had to make it impossible to stay mad at him.

Now you were sitting with your legs criss crossed applesauce across from him. Not being able to help the smile that spread across your face.

“Make a wish, Baby,” he said. As you blew out the flame he looked at you softly. That same stupid romantic look in his eyes. And it was like you couldn’t help yourself as you started to lean in. Lips connecting and it almost felt relieving. 

Colin pulled away for a minute to set the cake on the night stand. Going back to you he pull you onto his lap. Lips moving against yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck then put your hands in his hair.

He laid you down. Thumb stroking your cheek. Tongues finally meeting. Kisses deep. Now sleep was the farthest thing from your mind. You just wanted to feel him.

All of the thoughts about how that was it had melted away. If he was going to be serious about this than you wanted it. Wanted him. “Colin,” you whimpered. His lips going against your throat.

“What do you want, Baby?” He asked in a whisper.

“You.”

Clothes started to be removed. Hands and lips going to intimate spots. Like between your legs as he made sure your pussy would be ready for him. His mouth touching you just how you needed. Moans and sighs spilling from your lips.

“Y/N, Baby,” he whispered as he wrapped his arm around your leg so he could spread you open for him. Getting snug between your thighs as he lined himself up. “You sure? We don’t have-“

You cut him off with a kiss. He obviously got the message as he started to push into you. The head of his cock already making your head spin.

“Colin,” you whimpered against his lips.

“That’s it,” he said. “It’s okay. I got you.”

You nodded and moaned, foreheads resting against each other. Looking into those soft blue eyes as he inched in. “Ah,” you squeaked.

“You’ve got this,” he whispered into your ear as he finally bottomed out. Staying still for a moment so you could could used to him. Fuck he was big. You don’t think you’d ever felt this full before.

Hips rocking slowly as his lips went back to yours again. “Colin,” you whimpered again.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered as he looked down at you.

“More?”

“Tell me what you do want, Baby. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Harder. Please.” Fuck you felt desperate. He was just filling you up so good. Just how you needed him.

He pressed his lips to yours as he started getting deeper. Rolling his hips into yours. Then pushing your arm above your head with his hands holding yours down.

“Right there!” You pulled away with a gasp.

“Where?” He asked into your ear not stopping what he was doing before pulling your earlobe between his teeth. Nibbling on it. Making your eyes go blurry.

“Oh,” you let out another little squeak. That wasn’t good enough for Colin, though. He wanted you to scream his name.

He raised up off of you. Getting on his knees and pushing your legs up by your ears. Hands on the back of your thighs.

Every time he went in, your body bounced from the force. Pussy squeezing him tight. He looked between you seeing the way your wetness covered him. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Pussy even prettier with my dick in it.”

Why was he doing this to you. Was it not enough that he was about to turn you inside out? He had to talk to you like that too. Why was he trying to ruin you like this. He was fucking you like he wanted to be the only man to fuck you. Maybe he did. Maybe you wanted him to be.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah!” You cried out

“That’s it. That’s what I like to fucking hear. Doing so good for me, Baby,” he groaned. “Gonna fuck you all night. Keep you full a me. Want that?”

“Uh huh,” was all you could say. Your orgasm was hitting you so hard. “Colin. I’m cumming.” It was like you were weeping. “Oh my god.”

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned as your pussy tightened around him. Orgasm gushing out of you. “That’s my girl,” he said as he put his hand on your clit. Coaxing it out even more. “Keep cumming for me, Baby. That’s it.”

It happened so quickly. One minute he was fucking into you and then the next his face was between your thighs. If he was trying to make you squirt he got his wish. Your legs shaking, body spasming as he forced you there.

You covered your eyes with your hand just as he pushed back into you. Where he grabbed your arm to push it up so you were no longer covered. “Don’t you ever cover yourself, you hear me,” he said as he started fucking into you again. “I want you to look at me when I make you cum.” He put his lips against your chin.

Fuck. This was gonna be a long night.

You don’t know how many times you’d orgasmed. Just that it felt like once they started they didn’t stop. Just the way he was getting you there and trying to keep you there was almost too much. As soon as he came in you, you were ready to pass out. Your body officially worn out. But forced yourself to use the bathroom before bed even though walking really didn’t seem like a great option at the moment.

Then you got back in his arms. Snuggling into him. Colin holding you tight. It felt like where you were supposed to be.

As the sunlight broke, you were so worn out that you stayed like that for a minute. Him waking up first with your head tucked under his chin. Yawning and checking the time. Not that he cared. He’d stay like this for as long as you wanted him to.

When you started to stir, he nuzzled you with his nose. Kissing your forehead gently. “Morning, Birthday Girl,” he whispered in a raspy voice.

You moaned and stretched. Putting your head in his neck again. “Not yet.”

He chuckled. “We have to get to brunch.”

“There’s always dinner. I’m tired.”

He smacked your butt. “No, no, no. I’m not letting you sleep the day away. I gotta make up for yesterday.”

“Make up for yesterday by being my pillow. And we can have sex in between.”

Colin laughed softly. “As tempting as that is, we gotta get up.”

You took a deep breath out your nose. “Fine, but I get to pick off your plate.”

“When do you not?” He rubbed your back. Colin reached over to grab his phone to check the time. “Wait, what the fuck,” he chuckled.

“What?” You asked, with a yawn.

“James said, ‘I’m happy for you guys really but we’re going to breakfast without you if you don’t hurry up. Happy birthday y/n.”

You laughed. “What?”

“The one before it was stop having sex we’re hungry. Ryan said, ‘Colin stop being the Yoko Ono of this ba-‘I’m the Yoko On- oh now they’re fighting about it.”

You snorted. “They’re gonna argue about this all day, aren’t they?”

“Yeah probably.” Colin laughed.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ

_________________________________

ғʀᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you and steve hooked up once and neither of you can forget that night

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: smut 18+ minors dni plz, kinda rough? but of course major fluffy aftercare from soft boi stevie, bit of inexperienced reader and insecure reader

(accidentally written unprotected sex but this is fanfiction lmao plz be safe irl)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: ive never participated in a challenge before and i think @honeysucklesteve is just the sweetest so hope you like it el! And congrats on 4k :T

__________________________________

“And the interesting thing about that, mind I add…” the words of your professor falling short because you can’t shake the feeling of his eyes looking at you.

You kept your head low fighting the urge within you not to look back. A couple nights ago you landed yourself in the bed of the infamous frat president Steve Rogers and to make matters worse, you both major in American Studies meaning you share all of your classes.

You didn’t have much experience with guys in high school so it wasn’t surprising when you had the same experience in college. What was surprising was the fact you spent a night in the arms of one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Steve Rogers was a huge catch. Teachers loved him, girls chased him,and guys wanted to be him.

You remember that night so vividly.

The way his hands fit so perfectly on your hips. The way his lips felt so hot against your own burning skin; and moved perfectly against yours. The things he whispered in your ear. They way he held you close when you fell asleep in his arms. The way you hated yourself the next morning when you snuck out. The way your tummy flutters simply because he’s looking at you right now.

You breathed out shakily before turning your head to find his eyes with yours; he looked away the moment you did shyly, very unlike him. Fuck he was gonna be the death of you.

“And that should be the end of the lecture. I’m gonna go ahead let you guys go a little early. Have a good weekend everyone and make sure to check your emails,” the professor gathered his things and left.

You packed your things quickly trying your best to avoid his gaze that you knew was still on you. Steve packed quickly too before walking hot on your tail, just about to call your name until…

“Hey, Y/n,” Bucky called out.

“Oh, hey Buck.”

“It’s the weekend and as usual the guys and I want to party tonight. But the dean said one more noise complaint about our house and we get on academic probation so we’re asking a couple of people who might wanna come to the club with us.”

Behind Bucky you could see Steve walking towards you two and your stomach sank. Bucky and Steve were best friends and you don’t know if Steve told him that you guys slept together last weekend. What if something happens again tonight if you say yes. Why are you even thinking that something could happen again? Steve Rogers is way out of your league it was a miracle that you landed a chance to be his bed warmer in the first place.

“I’ll see you for lunch, man,” Steve said to Bucky patting his best friend's shoulders. His eyes lingering with yours until you had to pull away.

“I don’t think I should,” you told him, walking towards the door.

“Come on, Nat told me you're quite the party animal and you left early last week I didn’t get to see you in action,” Bucky chuckled, walking with you. You didn’t leave early…

“Buck,” you looked at him.

“Please?” he asked. You exhaled sharply rolling your eyes before walking away to your next class.

“Is that a yes?” he shouted, making you turn around with a cheeky grin. You got to your next class and noticed Steve sitting in a new seat today, particularly the one next to the seat you usually sit in. None of his housemates or regular friends took this specific lecture so he usually sat in the very back corner alone. But today here he is.

His head snapped up when you entered the room. You hesitantly sat down next to him still avoiding his eyes. You set up your laptop on the small table as did Steve; both your eyes glancing at each other quite awkwardly until Steve finally interrupts the silence.

“You coming tonight?” he whispered.

“What’s in it for me if I do?” you said playfully.

“A repeat of the best night you’ve ever had,” he said cheekily.

“Oh, really,” you chuckled sarcastically as he nodded with an overly proud smirk.

“Probably not,” you answer his question.

“Seriously? Why not? I can pick you up,” he said.

“Steve,” you warned.

“What? Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”

“You’re so full of it,” you said, making you both laugh.

“You were full of my dick last week,” he whispered.

“Steve!” you punched his side making him laugh hard enough for other students to take notice of your ruckus.

“Welcome class, we’ll begin the lecture in one minute. I’m just gonna pull it up on the projector,” the professor said rushing in.

“Please come tonight,” he whispered.

“Why are you obsessed with me?” you joked.

“Fuck off,” he chuckled.

“If I say ok, will you shut up for the rest of the lecture?”

“Maybe,” he grinned.

“Then maybe I’ll come,” you smirked.

Throughout the lecture Steve paid absolutely no attention whatsoever. Steve had been thinking about that night just as much as you had. The way your neck craned to the side a bit, reminding him of when he littered marks and bruises all over last week. The way you subtly bit your lip in concentration but all that clouded his mind was lust remembering how you looked so pretty from above when he was settled between your legs.

He wanted you again so badly. He wasn't going to lie, it sort of hurt him when he woke up and you weren't there. He thought maybe there was something between you two, god knows the tension was overwhelming that night. You weren't the most frisky woman he'd been with but you were sweet; slight innocence with your intimacy. He craved you.

Steve leaned towards you, his fingers twiddling with yours. You tried your best to ignore his advances despite how much you equally craved him. He ran his nose along your cheek and jaw and your breathing quickened inhumanly.

"What are you doing?" you whispered.

"Nothing, just relax," he responded. As much as he wanted to drag you out of class and fuck you so good, he knew you'd rip him a new one if he did. No matter how he'd make you feel.

"No, we're in the middle of a lecture," you argued.

"I'm not doing anything," he said humorously, you were not humored though.

"Steve," you scolded when he pressed a faint kiss under your ear.

You knew a guy like Steve was horny practically twenty-four seven, but you didn't take him to be quite clingy. Especially with someone like you. His arm wrapped under yours. His other resting on your thigh. His head tucked in the crook of your neck. It wasn't particularly sexual, but it was intimate. Something normal to couples, and you two were not a couple.

"Please come tonight," he whispered, “If not I’ll come over.”

"Ugh fine," you grunted, your voice breaking into a giggle because you did somewhat enjoy this unfamiliar attention.

Steve continued to sit next to you during the rest of your classes for the day absent mindedly teasing you, playing with your fingers, twirling your hair between his fingers, leaning his head on your shoulder while he held your hand. Like geez, take a girl out already.

By the time you got back to your shared apartment with two of your closest friends you felt conflicted. Why the sudden shift in Steve? You two weren't exactly best friends before, just two people who shared classes and accidentally slept with each during a drunken night at a frat party.

"Hey, everything ok?" Wanda asked you noticing your inner battle.

"Uh, yeah. Kinda. No," you said defeatedly making the girls chuckle.

"What happened?" Nat asked.

"That guy, that I… you know."

"Fucked?"

"Nat!" you said embarrassed.

"Go on," Wanda encouraged.

"Well, I never told you guys but the guy was Steve," you said shyly.

"What!" the girls exclaimed simultaneously.

"You're lying," Nat laughed.

"You really went from zero to a hundred," Wanda giggled.

"Guys stop," you whined.

"All day today, he's been like super clingy. Holding my hand and pretending he's like my boyfriend."

"Wait, I thought you liked him?" Nat asked, confused.

"I mean I do, but it's sudden and I'm pretty sure it's only because he wants to get in my pants again, you know?" you rationed.

"Awe, I don't think that's true. I've known Steve for a bit and yeah he sleeps around sometimes but he's not a giant dick. Doing that would be way too shallow, especially for Steve," Nat said.

“Yeah but don’t you think it’s weird?” you asked.

“Look did Bucky ask you about tonight?” Nat asked.

“Yeah, he did- how do you know that?” you asked, confused.

“Oh- Uh,” Nat paused.

“She asked Buck to invite you,” Wanda snickered.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, you never go out with us and the last time you did we thought you just went home but apparently you were getting laid,” Nat cackled.

“Oh my- shut up,” you huffed before storming off to your room.

“Wait! Can you at least come with us tonight?” Wanda followed you.

“No,” you giggled.

“Please!” both girls said at the same time. As you closed your door with a grin on your face not responding.

Hours later you laid on your bed lowly listening to the soft rumbling chaos from your comedic roommates. You stayed in your not so sexy undergarments and not so sexy sweatpants along with a hoodie you stole from your brother before you moved.

You ate the junk you’ve stocked up on the past few weeks feeling a bit glum. It’s not that you didn’t necessarily want to go, you would love to spend another night in that gorgeous man’s arms but there’s absolutely no way Steve is gonna want you the way you’d like him too. Not sober.

There was a subtle knock on your door and you called out knowing the girls were probably ready to leave.

"How do we look?" Nat asked, walking into your room with Wanda.

"Wow, you guys look hot," you said sitting up.

"You think Vis would like this or is it too much?" Wanda asked sheepishly, she's had a crush on the foreign exchange student Vis for the longest time and had yet to make a move.

"I think someone's gonna have a lucky night," you wiggled your brows suggestively, making her roll her eyes and blush.

"What about you, still chasing Bryce?" you turned to Nat looked extra sexy tonight.

"His name is Bruce," she rolled her eyes.

"And yes, I am," she chuckled.

"You're so weird," you giggled, Bruce didn't seem to particularly be Nat's type but hey, no judgement.

"I heard he's got like a monster cock," you said.

"Shut up," she pushed you playfully.

“It’s always the nerds,” Wanda giggled.

"Anyways, are you sure you don't want to come?" Wanda asked sincerely.

"I'm sure," you smiled.

"Steve's gonna miss you," Nat teased.

"Yeah, I doubt that."

"Well, stay safe, cutie," the girls waved heading to the Uber that waited outside for them.

"You too!"

You sighed before grabbing more snacks to stuff your face with. A couple hours went by of sitting around watching nonsense on TV for a bit. You ate dinner that was far from fine dining but it was available before slouching on your bed until the late hours of the night.

You were practically falling asleep, tired and dry eyes glued to the screen of your small TV when you got a knock at the front door. You check the clock by your bed wondering if maybe either of the girls left their keys, but it wasn’t even midnight yet.

You clutched your phone walking hastily to the front door as quietly as possible creeping up to the peehole to see who would be your unexpected guest.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you swung the door open.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Steve retorted.

“My jamas,” you rolled eyes stepping to side to let him in.

“Seriously what are you doing here?”

“I told you earlier, you didn’t come tonight so I came to you,” he said, taking his jacket off.

“Seriously?” you tried not to smile, but the action gave you butterflies.

“You promised to come. I missed you,” he said walking up to you.

“You’re so full of shit,” you giggled, staring at his devilishly handsome grin.

“Come on, whatcha doing?” he said, grabbing your hand and taking you to the room. You three had a fairly small apartment and your light was obviously the only one on in the whole apartment making it easy for him.

“Well, before you rudely invaded my home, I was stuffing my face with all kinds of junk watching TV,” you said to him making him scowl playfully at you.

“Well, then let’s finish the rest of your junk food then,” he said laying on your bed. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the sudden shift in attention. Steve was a guy who could have anyone and he’s chasing you for some reason.

You weren’t a blonde bombshell with a perfect hourglass figure that made guys want you left and right. You had flaws that drew people away and you don’t think Steve remembers that night like you do. What if he hates your body? What if he thinks you're annoying and suddenly leaves?

“Everything alright?” Steve asked you.

“Uh, sorta,” you answered honestly.

“Come here, talk to me,” he said, opening his arms. You couldn't help your eyes narrowing at him.

“What?”

“Do you even remember anything from that night?” you whispered.

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked.

“Steve, come on,” you chuckled.

“What?”

“Do you just wanna fuck now? Make it quick so you can go back to the party-”

“Woah, who said anything about fucking?” he stood up towering over you making you suddenly feel really small and shy.

“I mean that’s why you’re here, right?”

“I came because I told you if you didn't go out with us that I was gonna hang with you. I didn’t say anything about sleeping with you. If you really want I can go home but I wanted to hang out with you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh, I- uh,” you stuttered; well now you feel like a dick.

“We can just sit and keep watching TV until you want to go to sleep and I can head out,” he said, sitting back down on your bed. You sat beside him carefully watching his movements. He kept his eyes trained on the TV for a bit before locking his eyes with yours. You turned away quickly hearing him chuckle before sudden movement escalated behind.

Steve grabbed you from behind gently and leaned back so you laid on his chest. You could feel the hard plains of muscles on your back. And the way his strong wrapped perfectly around your waist, it felt heavenly.

Steve’s jaw tightened from the hypnotizing scent of your shampoo. He remembered it from that night not long ago and he couldn’t get it out of his head.

He wasn't going to lie, since that night all he could think about was how smooth your skin was under his fingertips. How pretty you sounded when he was settled between your legs. How good it felt when your fingers carded through his hair. He wanted you so bad.

He wanted to wake you up between your thighs again. Ravish you once more before breakfast, hell eat you for breakfast. But when you weren't there sleeping as peacefully beside him like the night before, his heart tugged. Did he say something wrong? Did he do something wrong? What if he hurt you?

He gave you space, clearly evident you hadn't wanted to talk to him but those few days went by and the same lingering stares and shy glances came back again and he craved you in his arms again.

When Nat asked him and Bucky to invite you again out to party, he really wanted to be with you that night even if you didn't end the night naked in each other's arms, just being around you was enough for him. Fortunately here he is with you, with arms wrapped around your waist and Steve couldn’t be happier.

You looked so fucking adorable to wearing sweats and a hoodie; he wishes it was one of his own. You had fluffy socks on too that had dog faces on them and he swears his heart melted. What you two were watching was making you laugh and each chuckle or giggle that came from you was like music to his ears.

He couldn’t help himself when his lips pressed against the top of your head. Your body momentarily froze before relaxing again in his arms. Your arms laid over his and tightened so you could cuddle into him even more. Your eyes felt heavy and the feeling of Steve’s lips slowly reaching your neck didn’t help you want to sleep.

When his cool lips grazed your burning skin, you could feel your skin burst into chills. You practically shuddered in his arms and your face grew hot when you did. It all becomes suddenly overwhelming and you jump off on his lap turning to him with a distressed expression.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” Steve said worriedly.

“You did just want to sleep with me,” you mumbled tears forming in your eyes.

“What! No, that’s not it,” he panicked; using you was the last thing he wanted you to think he was doing, and wanted in general.

“Then what’s going with you? Ever since we fucked you’re suddenly attached to me, putting your hands all over me, pretending like you're my boyfriend! And I don’t understand why,” you said frustrated.

“I feel like your just using me or something-”

“That is the last thing I want,” he interrupted, his voice low.

“Then why are you doing this; Steve you could have anybody and for some fucking sick reason you keeping mocking me. Making me think I have a chance.”

“And you don’t think you do?” he asked, heart broken, making you scoff and turn away.

“Look, fine I’ll admit that maybe before that night I wouldn’t have made a move; but I’m gonna admit that I haven’t not felt something for you before,” he said, getting closer to you.

“What?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met. And that night didn’t do shit to help me get over you,” he chuckled.

You crawled to him carefully looking into his eyes for any sign that he was being untruthful; you cupped his face gently.

“Are you drunk?” you whispered.

“Not one bit.”

You pressed your lips to his feverishly and Steve nearly moaned at the feeling. His hands grasped your waist firmly pulling you to sit comfortably on his lap. His hands crept under your hoodie holding you close.

Your hands rested on his broad shoulders holding yourself up as slowly leaned back onto your pillows. Your cold hands cupped his face as you deepened the kiss and his hand went to rest on your bottom.

With this new found position, his chest pressed against yours, his hips grinded up allowing you to feel all of him. Every pushing second you grew needier and whiny, practically clawing at his shirt to feel his skin.

"So needy already. And I've hardly touched you," he chuckled lowly in your ear.

He sat up nonetheless and stripped his shirt revealing his gorgeous physique that kept you up at night and infiltrated your dirtiest dreams. You brushed your hands all over his chest with your bottom lip between your teeth; Steve smirking slightly proud of the effect he had on you simply by having his shirt off.

"Come on, pretty girl. I wanna see you too," he's whispered before kissing you softly.

"Wait, I don't…" you didn't particularly feel very sexy and instantly became insecure about your body compared to Steve's.

"It's ok, we can cuddle," he smiled.

"Well, if I'm being honest I do want you. It's just, I just ate all this junk food and I'm not wearing anything sexy. I didn't shave and-"

"Hey, I don't care. You don't need to impress me or wear anything special for me. I just want you to look pretty sitting on my face and make pretty sounds telling me how I'm gonna make you feel."

Your body trembled at his words, arousal instantly flooding from you. His nose brushed against your cheek dragging along to your jawline before pressing kisses gingerly to your jaw and neck. His hands slowly lifted your hoodie and you raised your hands letting him remove your hoodie.

Your shoulders caved in out of habit, being topless in front of handsome men wasn't normally on your schedule; but the look in Steve's eyes, the look on his face holding a hungry and adorning expression made you more comfortable, reaching out to cup his face kissing him deeply.

You sighed breathlessly into the kiss as Steve's hands rubbed your sides. You pulled away momentarily only to put your lips on Steve's neck. Steve felt himself growing harder and needier to see you, feel you, pleasure you.

"Pretty girl, I need you. Lemme taste you, please," he whined.

He picked you up and laid down on your back to pull your sweatpants down your legs. You lifted your hips for him and he smiled cheekily at you biting his lip. Steve lifted your leg kissing the inside of your calf staring at with those hungry eyes.

"I still wanna see you sitting on my face, pretty girl," Steve said, pulling to him.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna crush you or anything," you whispered, making Steve chuckle.

Steve laid down assuring you that he wanted this and grabbed your hand helping you straddle his face. When you did Steve kissed the inside of your thighs playfully nipping and marking the sensitive skin making you gasp.

Steve wrapped his hands around your thighs bringing your center impossibly close to him, finally licking a long and wet stripe up your slit. Your moans were soft at first but when Steve started circling his tongue around your clit, you could help getting louder and bucking your hips grinding on his face.

Steve’s eyes were close relishing in your sex. You combed your fingers through his hair and Steve moaned loudly against your pussy. He dipped his tongue past your folds and that along with the vibrations from his beautiful moans, you head threw back moaning in pure ecstasy, moaning so loud your neighbors were definitely going to file a complaint.

“Fuck, Steve. Your mouth feels so good; shit!” you whined.

His tongue circled your clit again quicker this time and you bucked your hips, tightening your stomach and squeezing your legs as you approached your high. Steve kneaded the soft flesh of your ass lapping up everything you gave him.

Steve crawled from under you as you held onto the headboard, still standing on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Steve came up behind you rubbing your hips softly, kissing the back of your neck softly. He quickly rid the remaining of his clothes he still wore, his painfully hard cock slapping against his stomach desperate for some sort of attention.

You breathe softly, hyper focused on the cum that slipped down your inner thighs. Your legs lightly trembled from just his mouth you couldn’t wait to feel what his cock would feel like, filling you up like it was only a week ago. Steve sat beside you looking at you with a soft smile on his face, his hand softly rubbing the back of your legs and your bottom too.

He reached around to grab your hip and slowly turned you around settling you between his legs; your back pressed against his chest as it was only moments before, more innocently than now. His lips sucked and kissed your neck as his hands cupped and kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts.

Your hands rested over his own and your hips squirmed a bit for eagerness. The low growl from Steve because your hips grinded against his cock was incredibly arousing.

“Such an eager little slut ain't cha’,” he grabbed your hair.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as he pushed you forward on your hands and knees.

“Want me to fuck you? Remind you how I felt buried so fucking deep inside you? God, I think about you every fucking night; how perfect you were wrapped around me, how beautiful you sounded underneath me,” he whispered huskily in your ear making you shudder.

“Stevie, please,” you whimpered.

His hands rubbed up and down your back as he chuckled darkly.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to take care of you again, pretty girl,” he kissed your back softly.

He wrapped his hand around his cock slowly and languidly pumping it. He couldn’t help but tease slightly circled his tip along your entrance pulling desperate whines from you. He finally reached his own breaking point, unable to stand not being able to feel you so he pushed his hips forward moaning loudly at how tight you felt around him.

“So good, pretty girl,” he moaned.

“Fuck, Stevie. Filling me up so good; you’re so big,” you sighed.

“Damn right, pretty girl. Taking my cock so well. Fucking made for me,” he grunted.

His snapped in and out increasingly quicker with each thrust; the vulgar sounds of his movements and skin slapping against each other echoed loudly in the room. Harmonizing with both your pleasurable moans.

Chasing both your releases, Steve’s hips jerked rougher and harder in and out of you making you practically shriek at the feeling. He leaned forward wrapping his hand around your throat before pulling you flush against his chest.

“Such pretty baby,” he bit your ear.

“Fuck! Stevie I need to come,” you whined.

“Yeah, you want to come all over my cock? Make a fucking mess?” he growled.

“Please!”

“Hold on, pretty girl. I’m almost there,” he sighed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure.

You whined and whimpered, tears brimming your eyes from that overwhelming feeling. You couldn’t help but clench hard around his cock desperately holding back for your release.

“Fuck, do that again, pretty girl,” Steve gasped.

“God, yes. I’m close, pretty girl. You ready to come?” he pulled your head back to look at your face.

Tears fell inelegantly down your cheeks, sweat lined your forehead, your chest moved rapidly up and down; to Steve, you looked ethereal.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Let go, pretty girl. I gotcha,” he whispered against your lips.

Your eyes rolled back as your body shook against Steve’s, releasing onto his dick profoundly. Steve swallowed your louds moans, roughly pressing his lips to yours, moaning himself. You clenched hard around Steve one last time feeling his throbbing cock shoot hot ribbons of cum, coating your walls.

When you eased your way slowly down from your high, Steve laid you down gently pulling out to see his cum mixed with yours spilling from you. You looked so fucked out breathing heavily, whimpering at the loss of Steve inside you. He wanted to, but held back from taking you again. But not wanting to hurt you, he treaded towards the bathroom and turned on the water to run you two a hot bath. He picked you up gently pressing kisses all over your face and neck before planting one delicious kiss on your lips; your hands reaching around his neck to deepen it if that was even possible.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, coating your arms with soap to wash you. You laid against him with your eyes closed desperately trying not to fall asleep in his arms.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked softly.

“Mh-m,” you shook your head slightly with a blissful smile on your face.

“Good,” he wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing you passionately.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, barely audibly.

“For coming to hang out with me tonight,” you chuckled. Your eyes felt too heavy, simply remembering the way he carried you carefully back to your bed and held for the rest of the night.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@wandanatasha0720

[storiesforallfandoms]

permanently ~ corpse husband

word count: 1456

request?: yes!

“Corpse husband x female reader. The reader is corpse wife but they keep there really private only a few people know that corpse is married, one day people start asking corpse if he is seeing someone and corpse doesn’t know if he wants to reveal he’s married because he worried she will get hate so he talks to the reader about it and his worries and the reader comforts him about his worries. Later corpse reveals in a video that hes married and everyone really happy and supportive of his marriage.”

description: in which he reveals a surprising secret to his fans after months of questions about his love life

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

It started when his fans heard her speak during a stream.

Corpse had been careful to keep his love life a secret for so long. He loved his fans, but he knew that if he even gave the slightest indication that he was seeing someone, the more extreme of his fanbase would go looking for her. He didn’t want any hate messages sent her way, she didn’t deserve any of that.

They had been so careful. (Y/N) would stay away from Corpse’s streaming room while he was streaming, or she’d sit next to him and make zero noise. Luckily, (Y/N) wasn’t famous, so they were able to share pictures and videos on her private social media accounts.

She had slightly pushed open the door to his streaming room one night, trying her best to make as little noise as possible in case his mic was on. Corpse noticed her from the corner of his eyes and turned to look at her.

“Mic off?” she whispered. Corpse chuckled and nodded. “I sent you a text but you didn’t respond. I’m gonna go get something to eat, do you want anything picked up?”

“I’m good for now, thank you.”

(Y/N) smiled and crossed the room to give him a kiss before leaving again.

For the half hour she was gone, (Y/N) lived in ignorant bliss, unaware of the chaos happening online.

When she got home, she found her husband pacing the kitchen. Concern was written all over his face, and it deepened when (Y/N) walked through the front door.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“The mic wasn’t off,” he said.

(Y/N) knew what he meant immediately, but she still couldn’t help but ask, “What?”

“When you came in during my stream, I thought I had shut my mic off, but I didn’t. My viewers heard us talking, and they heard us kiss. The chat went wild and it’s trending on Twitter already; #corpsesmysterywoman.”

(Y/N) grabbed her phone and went into Twitter. It was the top trend and it was flooded with tweets that ran from shocked to supportive and happy to, of course, hateful.

“On the plus side,” she started, “they’ll never be able to identify me just by my voice.”

“Doesn’t mean they won’t try.”

(Y/N) sighed as she watched Corpse start to bite his fingers, something he did whenever his anxiety ran high. She felt bad for him. He shouldn’t have to worry about his fans having a negative reaction about their marriage, and he definitely shouldn’t feel like he was to blame if his fans found her, which she knew he would.

(Y/N) touched Corpse’s shoulder, causing him to stop and look up at her. She took his hands in hers, wiping away the blood he had drawn.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “We’ll get through this. Besides, I’m a big girl. I can handle this if anything happens.”

Corpse nodded. “I know, I just didn’t want you to be brought into this.”

“It was bound to happen eventually. Could’ve been worse.”

Corpse wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. She hugged him back, dreading the next time he’d have to go online.

~~~~~~

A week passed and the buzz around Corpse’s “mystery woman” did not die down. The hashtag trended for two days, and his fans were still speculating on Twitter. Corpse took some time off social media in hopes it would all blow over, but it became evident very soon that it would not. Everyone was still tweeting him about it, and it even began to escalate to people would ask Corpse’s friends during their streams.

Enough was enough, and Corpse decided it was time to address the issue.

He announced he would be doing a Q&A stream on his Twitter. Within seconds, the stream was trending.

(Y/N) sat on the floor next to Corpse’s chair as he set his stream up. She could see he was shaking with anxiety over the situation. She put a hand on his leg, bringing his attention to her.

“It’ll be okay,” she assured him. “I promise.”

Corpse gave her the best smile he could muster. He laced his fingers through hers, trying to calm himself down. Before he could back out of it, he started the stream.

The chat flooded with questions immediately, most of which were asking about her. Corpse was able to avoid these questions for as long as he could, until someone donated a super chat question specifically asking about Corpse’s relationship status.

“Are you taken?” he read. “Well, I guess I can’t get around it now. The answer is yes, I am taken, and I am taken permanently.”

The chat went wild at this. Corpse’s hands began to shake again and (Y/N) squeezed the one she was holding, trying to look up at him sympathetically. His attention was focused on the screen in front of him, trying to get the words out the best he could.

“The truth is, I was seeing someone for a long time. She isn’t a content creator or famous in any way, so I wanted to keep our relationship to ourselves. We’ve made it public with her friends and family, but as far as my YouTube life goes, I wanted to keep it a secret. At first it was because I didn’t want to announce the relationship and have it go south and we break up, but the longer we kept it a secret the more I knew I wanted it that way because it was just another aspect of my life I thought would be better to keep to myself. I didn’t want to bring her into a spotlight that she didn’t want, and honestly, I didn’t want any of my fans to know who she was.

“And marriage...well, it wasn’t something I ever expected to happen to me. We weren’t even dating all that long when we both got drunk one night and I just...I asked her. We both laughed it off at the time, but the next morning when we sobered up I realized I still wanted to marry her. So I asked her again, promised her I’d get her a ring when I could, and she said yes. Flash forward about a year and...I’m a married man.”

(Y/N) leaned her head against Corpse’s leg and smiled up at him. Through his nervousness and anxiety, she could see him reminiscing on the history of their relationship, the way she liked to do sometimes. Especially on the hilarious story of their engagement.

“I won’t be giving any more details besides that,” he said. “I will not stream with her if she does not feel comfortable, I will not be publicly stating her real name, I certainly won’t be posting her face on any of my social media. Especially without her permission as she has already said she doesn’t really want a life in the public eye. I am sorry I kept this from you all for so long, but I hope you can understand my reasoning, and I hope you will all treat my wife with respect. That’s all I really want.”

He continued with the Q&A. After enough time had passed for that information to sink in, you decided to check Twitter to see what the reaction had been. The top trend, within a matter of minutes, was #wearehappyforcorpse. The hashtag was flooded with kind messages congratulating Corpse on getting married and on finding the one. A few people were sharing Corpse’s wishes and warning the extreme fans not to go looking for whoever Corpse’s wife was until one of them made her identity public. There was very little negativity and, although (Y/N) had told Corpse this would likely be the case, she was relieved to know that it actually was.

When the stream ended, (Y/N) could almost physically see the weight that had been lifted off Corpse’s shoulders. She stood from the floor to sit on his lap. He took her in his arms and buried his head in her shoulder, letting out a long sigh of relief.

“That went well,” she said. “Almost like I said it would.”

“Don’t say I told you so,” Corpse said, lifting his head to smile at her. “Although, I also knew it would go fine.”

“Even if it went different, we would’ve dealt with it together. That’s what married couples do.”

Corpse leaned forward and kissed her gently. (Y/N) smiled as she broke away and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” he said.

“You are.”

Corpse chuckled and playfully squeezed her as he kissed over her neck and face.

[bangtanloverboys]

the first cringe of morning // myg

summary - there were many things one would be nervous about when their new partner spends the night for the first time: was the room clean? is everything in order? did you shave? but you weren’t really nervous about those things, you were nervous as to how he would preceive your scars

pairing - boyfriend!yoongi x trans male!reader

genre - fluff, slight nsfw; newly established relationship au

word count - 1.7k

warnings - mentions of top surgery, reader is slightly insecure of his scars, anxiety, bisexual yoongi, bed sharing, cuddling, non-sexual body worship, kissing, very light non-sexual dom/sub undertones, kinda soft dom!min yoongi, min yoongi being an absolute sweetheart

author’s note - hhhhhh dream scenario honestly. . .happy pride month

Taking a deep breath, you pulled your shirt up, exposing your chest. You stared at your torso in the mirror, your eyes zeroing in on the two thin scars that decorated your chest. You’d gotten top surgery barely a year ago, the scars nearly faded away. You were happy with the results, you’ve never felt happier or more comfortable in your entire life even. You would never go back on the decision you made to get top surgery.

However, it didn’t stop you from being nervous. Why were you nervous? Your new boyfriend, Yoongi, was going to spend the night for the first time ever. You’ve been dating for a few months now and you honestly couldn’t have been happier. You told him you were a trans man a few weeks after you felt like you were possibly getting more serious; he nodded, thanking you for trusting him with the information. While you knew he would do nothing of the sort, your brain couldn’t help but think of terrible outcomes if/when he was to see your chest. 

What if he thought you looked deformed? What if he pointed out your nipples and how they looked weird? What if after what if after what if, plagued your mind. It was stupid and you knew that, but your anxiety continued to eat away at you.

The night so far had been pretty good; he arrived with a couple grocery bags of goodies, as you did ask him to pick up some things on his way over. The two of you had a nice dinner, watched a couple movies, and you were both getting ready to settle down for bed. It was established earlier that you weren’t planning on having sex at all that night, neither of you feeling quite ready for that yet. But you slept shirtless, meaning you had the options of either A. getting it over with and showing him or B. sleep with a shirt on and possibly overboil. Anxiety on the rise, you went with the latter option. 

A knock on the bathroom door startled you, causing you to drop your shirt. 

“I gotta brush my teeth. You decent?” Yoongi asked from the otherside of the door. 

With a light chuckle, you unlocked the door, pulling it open for him. “Come in.”

Walking in, his toothbrush in hand, he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you. Can I use your toothpaste?”

“Yeah, it’s in the little basket by the sink.” You gestured to the counter behind you. “I’m gonna get the bed ready.”

“Hey,” he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from going any further. “You sure you don’t want me sleeping on the couch? Because I’m more than fine with that.”

“No, it’s okay.” You responded, hoping your voice sounded reassuring. Yoongi stared at you for a moment, possibly sensing your nervousness. He didn’t say anything, only nodding; trusting your words. After releasing your wrist, you made your way to your bedroom.

You had cleaned up everything earlier that day, looking nothing like the mess it was the past couple days. But you were satisfied with it, as long as there was no mess on the floor or dirty dishes anywhere, it was fine. With a sigh, you began taking off the decorative pillows you had on display on your full sized bed, neatly stacking them in a pile. As you continued to get the bed ready, your mind wandered, thinking about how you were going to sleep. Did Yoogni have any sleeping habits? Would he cuddle you while you slept? Would he mind the heat you tend to give off when you sleep? So many different random anxieties started to build up over the ones already there. 

“Are we not going to sleep with any pillows or something?” Yoongi’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. Immediately you realized you went a bit too far and even pulled off the actual pillows from the bed, stacking them alongside the decorative ones.

“Shit- I’m sorry, I got a bit carried away.” You gushed as you put the pillows back on the bed. 

“No worries.” You got a good look at him as he walked across the room, towards the bed. He was wearing a loose fitted T-shirt, a pair of grey sweatpants that were hanging low on his hips, and his hair was a mess from being tucked away in a beanie all day. “Do you sleep on any specific side of the bed or free range?”

“I sleep on the right side.” You said, pointing to the side you were closest to. 

“Alright,” he nodded as he made his way over to the left side of the bed. Pulling back the covers, he climbed into bed. You moved to follow him, but he stopped you. “You’re gonna sleep in your jeans?” 

You felt your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment. “Right uh. Hang on.” You muttered as you turned around. As you shuck your jeans off, you can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you, causing the heat in your cheeks to spread to the tips of your ears. Standing in only your boxers and a T-shirt, you deemed yourself ready for bed. When you turned around to face him, you spotted a smirk playing on his lips. Avoiding eye contact, you clambered into bed, shutting off your lamp in the process, leaving you both in the dark room. 

The mattress beneath you shifted as Yoongi adjusted himself to lay down and get comfortable. “C’mere.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. You freeze in his hold for a moment, thinking he’s going to possibly make a move, but instead you feel him nuzzle his face into your hair. You smiled as you felt his breathing tickle the skin of your neck. Relaxing into his touch, you allowed yourself to fall asleep in his arms. 

When you woke up to the sunlight bleeding through your blinds, you were genuinely surprised to have slept through the whole night. Usually you’d wake up randomly, but Yoongi was a good luck sleeping charm that now you had, you probably won’t ever let go. You shut your eyes again, wanting a bit more sleep before either of you have to get up.

Just as your mind was about to fall back into sleep, you felt the light touch of Yoongi’s lips drag across the skin of your neck. He peppered soft kisses over the exposed skin, gently tickling you. You giggled at the sensation, but didn’t pull away. In fact, you snuggled closer into him. As he sleepily kissed you, you felt the hand that was still wrapped tightly around your waist ever so slowly slip underneath your shirt. The skin to skin contact had you stiffen. Feeling your discomfort, Yoongi moved to whisper in your ear. 

“Are you okay with this?”

“I-” You struggled to get the words out. “My scars. I- I don’t-”

“Hey shh,” he murmured, kissing the shell of your ear before he readjusted himself on the bed, now hovering over you. “You can tell me, what about your scars?”

“I-I’ve. . . never really had a partner see my scars in a more. . . intimate setting. . .” You all but shrunk under his gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“No, Y/N, look at me.” His hand went to your cheek, gently forcing you to look up at him. Meeting his dark eyes, you feel nothing but adoration pouring out from them, overwhelming you. “I care about all of you, scars and all. You are the most handsome creature I’ve had the privilege of knowing.” You felt tears prick at your eyes, threatening to spill. Your hand went up to cup his cheek, bringing him down to meet your lips. The kiss was nothing too special, it was slow and gentle, yet it didn’t stop your heart from racing. Yoongi’s other hand was sneaking back underneath your shirt as he pulled away. “Is it okay if I show you?”

With a gulp, you nodded.

“Use your words, baby.” 

“Yes.” You rasped out.

Once given the green light, he pressed a kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your neck. He kissed down your clothed torso until he was over your hips, his hands slowly curling up the bottom of your shirt. His eyes never left yours as he exposed more and more skin, stopping just below your scars. Lowing his head to your stomach, he kissed you right below your belly button. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pecked all over your stomach; on occasion he’d catch you by surprise by blowing a raspberry, eliciting a laugh from you. 

He reached the edge of your shirt again, placing his hands on the fabric before moving it anymore. “Do you wanna take this off?”

“Yeah.”

It was a bit of a struggle but with Yoongi’s help, you got the T-shirt off. His eyes not once leaving you as he tossed the shirt to some corner of the room. The silence was thick as you watched him stare at you, saying nothing. Embarrassment burned in your cheeks as you moved to cover yourself, but his hands grabbed at your wrists, pinning them to your side.

“You’re absolutely stunning, Y/N.” He praised as he lowered himself to be over your ribcage. “Please don’t doubt that, I see nothing but the most beautiful man in front of me.” Yoongi muttered as he littered kisses along your scars, the sensation light from what little feeling you have left. His words left butterflies erupting in your stomach and your head reeling, trying to accept the compliments he gave you. You don’t think anyone has ever said that to you, hell, you don’t even think you’ve said that about yourself. But to have Yoongi tell you had you drunk. 

He’d nip at your skin, testing where you could feel, and when he felt you shutter against him, your boyfriend made sure to pay extra attention there. All while mumbling praises into your skin, assuring you that he thought nothing less of the world of you.

By the time his head came back up above yours, his lips were kiss swollen and you were breathless. Smiling down at you, he leaned down, kissing you one last time before pulling away. He laid his head down on your chest, snaking his arms around you to hold you tight. Your arms went to wrap around his shoulders, messing with his hair at the nape of his neck. There the two of you laid for the next few hours, as the sun rose higher in the sky, simply enjoying each other’s company.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Blind Spot

Spencer Reid x (Gender Neutral) Reader

Word Count: 2640

Warnings: Hair pulling kink! Bucketloads of sexual tension but no actual sex. Gratuitous facts about bird nests. Dorks being oblivious. Lots of fluffy heart-eyed banter. Accusations of intercourse with fictional tree-beasts. 

A/N: I saw a gif that made me want to pull Spencer’s hair. That’s it. I have zero shame. 

For the “friends to lovers” square on my @cmbingo​ card! Proofread by @fangirlxwritesx67​ because she’s the best. 

“You look like you fucked an Ent,” you commented cheerfully, stealing sideways glances at Spencer while you waited for the light to change.  

“Thanks, that’s helpful.” He grimaced, trying to tug another burr out of a snarled curl. 

“Oh my god, you’re just making it worse! I’ll help you when we get back to your place. Leave it, you goober.” 

“Did you just call me a goober?” Spencer asked, trying not to laugh. 

“You’re like the dictionary definition of a goober,” you said fondly. 

“I have three PhDs!”  

“I really wish I’d gotten a video of that tumble, Doctor Goober.” 

Spencer was blushing, grinning down at his lap as he shredded a piece of leaf. It was hard not to stare at him when he smiled like that. 

He’d essentially face-planted into a burr bush earlier, somewhere in the Virginia woods — he’d been so excited about explaining some wonky bit of Star Trek physics theory to you that he just forgot to pay attention to his feet — and he’d floundered out with half a hedge stuck in his hair before picking up exactly where he’d left off. 

In other words, Doctor Spencer Reid was a ridiculous human being. You knew that, objectively. It didn’t stop you from having a massive crush on him. 

Either he was pretending not to notice, to spare your feelings, or he was socially oblivious; you tended to believe the former, considering how well you’d seen him read other people, but you appreciated it. There was a chance you’d make it out of this — if you could just get over it already — with your friendship intact. 

You cleared your throat and told him, “You look like the bastard child of Grandmother Willow and the Wizard of Oz scarecrow.” 

“Even if they were real, the anatomical —” 

“You didn’t mention that when I brought up the Ents. Something you want to tell me about you and Treebeard?” 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffed, trying to sound exasperated, but he could barely keep a straight face for a second before he was laughing, that scratchy sunny childish giggle that only came out when he was really relaxed and carefree. 

“Close the window before a bird sees you and decides to take up residence.” 

“How about you watch the road?”

“What, no facts about bird nests?” 

“Is that a rhetorical question?” 

“Nope.” 

“Well in that case… gyrfalcon nests are frequently re-used and passed along for generations. The oldest one that’s been discovered was in Greenland, and it was actually estimated to be approximately 2,500 years old.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes! In fact…” 

You had to remind yourself, yet again, to stop staring. 

Maybe someday you’d get sick of hearing Spencer talk, but you couldn’t really understand the way most of your teammates reacted to his rambling. Even if you didn’t care about what he was saying, there was something amazing about the way his eyes lit up and his hands fluttered around to illustrate his point.

You parked in front of his building and followed him upstairs. His apartment had become comfortingly familiar — ever since you and Spencer bonded over a shared love of sci-fi, you’d taken to driving him home and, if it wasn’t too late, sticking around for an episode or two of Doctor Who.  

He got his ancient little DVD player up and running, and you settled on the couch, fluffing pillows and shoving aside his nest of colorful crocheted blankets, getting cozy. There was something about Spencer’s space that always felt like home; maybe it was the smell of books, or just the general Spencer-ness of the whole place. 

Just being around him had always kinda felt like home, too. Sometimes you forgot you’d only known him for six months. 

He disappeared into his room for a second and came back with a comb. It was cheap plastic, missing a couple teeth, and looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. You looked from him to the comb and back again. 

“That actually explains a lot,” you said, grinning. Spencer rolled his eyes and sat down on the floor in front of you, leaning back against your shins, and after a dismayed glance at his curls, you commented, “We could always just shave it all off.” 

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” he said primly. 

You started with a couple of the less tangled pieces, finger-combing carefully through one soft lock at a time. You half-expected some comment about primates and social grooming, or at least a few facts about the quantum theory behind the TARDIS, but Spencer was uncharacteristically quiet and still, his eyes fixed on the TV. 

You separated out one of the worst knots, and he tilted his head to the side to give you better access. You were being as gentle as possible, but you knew you were hurting him at the first tug — he sucked in a breath, knuckles going white as his fingers clenched on his knees. 

“Sorry, I’m trying,” you sighed. 

With his head tilted like this, you could see the muscle clenching in his jaw and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. 

“S’okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s not — not your fault.” 

He sat there stiffly as you worked. His hair was silky, where it wasn’t hopelessly knotted, and you were close enough that you could smell whatever clean, sweet shampoo he used. Something about it made you want to hold your breath; it felt like you were too close. Spencer rarely let you inside his little bubble of personal space. 

Maybe that was why he seemed uncomfortable. He was usually so fidgety, tapping out a rhythm or twirling a pen between his long fingers, and it was strange to see him motionless like this. 

You ran your fingers through a de-tangled section, slow and careful, and Spencer shivered, his shoulders trembling for a moment before he went unnaturally still again. 

Spencer blurted out, “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

At the same time, you asked, “Are you cold?” 

You paused for a moment, surprised by the reaction, but after hesitating, Spencer just muttered, “Yeah. Cold.” 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. It was too warm, if anything; Spencer had a patchy flush crawling up his neck and over the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. 

“Here you go, goober,” you said, awkwardly cheerful in an attempt to cover your uncertainty as you grabbed an afghan from the couch and draped it around his shoulders. 

“Thanks.” He pulled the blanket down onto his lap without looking at you. “But maybe I should just do this myself.” 

“You’re never gonna get this loose on your own, not without scissors,” you warned, plucking at the knot around the last burr in his hair. “I’ll just, um — I’ll try to be more gentle.” 

“Maybe just go for it,” he said. “Get it over with.” His voice had gone all high-pitched and strained, like he was on the verge of a panic attack. If this was how much he disliked physical contact, no wonder he always avoided hugging you. 

You tried to go quickly, figuring that one quick moment of pain was better than another ten minutes of making Spencer uncomfortable. In your nervousness, you ended up tugging the burr out much more abruptly than you’d intended, and Spencer let out this rough, low, choked-off sound. Before you could apologize, he was jerking away from you, curled in on himself with his shoulders up around his ears like he was worried you were going to hit him, and — 

“Sorry,” he said, voice cracking. 

— what? 

“Spence?” you said tentatively. “What—”

He was still just curled up on the floor in a ball of gangly limbs, but he half-turned to you, twisting around. He wouldn’t make eye contact, though; he was staring intently at the pillow that was on the couch next to you. It felt weird, looking down at him like this, so you slid down onto the floor, hoping it wouldn’t spook him. He shifted back slightly, but at least he didn’t flinch away. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t — this was a bad idea.” 

The profiler in you couldn’t help but notice a few details. He was blushing, for starters. His lower lip was red where he’d been biting it, and — this was the part that surprised you most — his pupils were huge. 

You knew what Spencer looked like when he was panicking, and this wasn’t it. 

“Oh,” you breathed. “Oh.” 

He looked down at his lap, frowning as he played with the loose thread in the cuff of his sweater. 

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I know you don’t feel the same way, I wasn’t trying to — I didn’t realize it would be like that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and—”

“Wait, what?” 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable! I shouldn’t have asked—”

“I don’t feel the same way about what?” 

“I know you’re not attracted to me,” Spencer said, barely audible. 

“You’re… you…what?” 

He looked up, at that, genuinely startled. There was something sweet and vulnerable shining in his eyes, and your heart was racing. You slid a little bit closer, so that your knees were almost touching Spencer’s as you faced each other, cross-legged. 

“I thought you knew.” His hushed, croaky voice broke on the last word. “I thought I was being obvious.” 

You gaped at him for a second before letting out a sharp, hysterical giggle. 

He ducked his head again, hiding behind a curtain of hair, but not before you saw the hurt expression that flashed across his features. 

“No, that’s not—” you blurted out. “Spence. Spencer.” 

“Forget it,” he said sharply, his body going tense like he was about to bolt. “Can we just forget this happened?” 

Before you could think better of it, you reached out and pushed a few curls back behind his ear, and then you grabbed, twisting your fingers in his hair to tug him forward. You cut off the startled noise he made with a clumsy, eager kiss. 

The angle was all wrong, both of you leaning forward awkwardly, but it felt like sparks all down your spine.

You pulled away just far enough to get the words out: “I thought I was being obvious.”  

Then Spencer was surging closer on his hands and knees, crowding into your space, until you had a lapful of rumpled doctor pressing you back against the couch. He cupped your jaw with gentle spidery fingers, gaze locked on your mouth, and leaned in slowly like he was still waiting for you to push him away. 

There was nothing awkward about it this time. If the first kiss was sparks, this was fireworks — it was such a goddamn cliche you wanted to kick yourself for thinking it, but it was true. Your head was spinning. Every pillowy press of his lips and soft slide of his tongue seemed to steal the breath from your lungs. 

By the time you broke apart you were panting, but at least you weren’t the only one. Spencer’s chest heaved as he pulled away. He was still staring at your mouth like he couldn’t help himself. Part of you wanted to kiss him again and maybe never stop, but another part of you was paralyzed, trying to process the fact that this was actually happening. 

You just wanted to put the world on pause so that you could memorize everything: the way he licked his lips, the smell of his laundry detergent, the barely-perceptible movement of his pulse — you’d never seen that before because you’d never been this close to him before. You wanted to hold onto it, even the less-than-perfect details — the soundtrack of buzzy Dalek screeching in the background — the way you were folded together on the floor, all too-long legs and bony elbows, which was going to get uncomfortable fast.  

Spencer seemed to feel the same way. He grazed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, then followed the curve of your smile out to your temple and traced the shell of your ear with careful fingertips. When he brushed his curled-up fingers along the ridge of your cheekbone, you turned your head and kissed his knuckles.  

His hand came to rest on your shoulder, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, holding it in place, feeling the blood and bones shifting under the skin.  

“You really didn’t know?” you whispered. 

He shook his head shyly and gave you one of those incandescent smiles that always made your heart race. “No idea.” 

“I thought you were just ignoring it to spare my feelings,” you confessed. 

“I thought you were doing that.”  

“I thought you were good at your job!” you laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” 

“I think I have a blind spot, where you’re concerned.” He was blushing again. “But I was so distracted by you that I walked into a bush! How did you not —” 

“I’m the one who stares at you all the time like a creep.” 

“You thought you were being creepy?” he said sheepishly. “As soon as you started touching my hair — oh my god that’s embarrassing.” 

“That’s not the word I would’ve used.” 

You tangled your fingers in his curls, tugging experimentally. His breath hitched. 

Both of you were utterly still for a moment, watching each other, and the tension between you seemed to fill the air like a living thing. You were excruciatingly aware of all the places your bodies were touching.

You considered all the places you could touch. It would be so easy. You could tug him in, kiss him, melt into each other… there were so many possibilities, suddenly, and there was something incredible about that: the electricity, the excitement, the moment of pure potential in the pause between certainty and action. 

Spencer sighed, long and shaky, and you were so close that you could feel the current of exhaled air. 

“I couldn’t think straight,” he murmured, with a twitch of a smile. “That doesn’t happen to me often.” 

“So you didn’t know…” 

You scritched your fingernails down his scalp, marveling at the way he shivered and swayed closer like he was hypnotized. He curled his hand around the side of your neck, thumb slowly stroking the hinge of your jaw. 

“I knew I liked it,” he confessed. “But — within a certain context? Not out of nowhere like that. I didn’t think it would be... like that.” 

“Like what?”

“Intense.”  

“Yeah?” 

“But I think maybe it’s just you.” His eyes had gone all glassy and heavy-lidded, and you could barely breathe. “Maybe you drive me crazy no matter where you’re touching me.” 

“I can think of a few ways to test that hypothesis.” 

You caught a glimpse of his grin, but then he pressed his forehead to yours and his features went blurry, too close for you to focus.

“Never really thought I’d be into dirty talk, but if you’re going to start quoting the scientific method…” 

“Funny, most of the time you never shut up,” you said, giddy and overwhelmed. 

The tip of his nose brushed yours. There was maybe an inch of space between your mouths, and you wanted to close that gap so badly it felt like a physical ache. 

“I mean, if you want me to start rattling off statistics—” 

“Spencer.” You fisted both hands in his hair, tugging sharply, and he shuddered. “Take a hint.” 

“Blind spot, remember?” he whispered, lips brushing yours as they shaped the words, feather-light and maddening. 

“You know, for a genius—” you started, but he kissed you, hungry and sweet like he was making up for lost time, until you’d completely forgotten what you were going to say. 

.

.

There is now a sexy follow-up here! 

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If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! 

[drabbles-mc]

One of Them Girls

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request by @lakamaa12: I have a request.. if you don't want to do it, no worries (or it's been done by another blog and I missed it).I was wondering if you would consider writing something with Angel based around the song One of Them Girls by Lee Brice?

(Part 2 can be found Here)

Warnings: language, alcohol, Angel being the cutie we know he is

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: To the best of my knowledge, no one else has written an Angel fic for this song yet! If you have and I didn’t see it, my bad! But real talk I’ve been obsessed with this song lately and I wanted to write a fic for it so I’m super glad you sent this my way. Hope you enjoy! xo

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @amandinesblogofstuff @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @encounterthepast @lilacyennefer @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ (If you want to be tagged let me know! xo)

Your roommate had been trying for months to get you to go to one of the MC parties with her. She knew them from working at Vicki’s and she swore that you would have a good time if you just came to the clubhouse with her.

“Just for a couple hours,” she pleaded as she stood in the doorway to your room, “and if you’re really not having a good time, we can leave and I’ll never bother you about it again. Promise.”

You sighed, leaning your head back against your headboard, “Fine. Just so you won’t bother me about it anymore.”

She beamed, “Yes! Oh this is gonna be so fun,” you could practically see the thoughts racing through her head, “Wear those skinny jeans that make your butt look good.”

You groaned, “You’re gonna dress me, too?”

She laughed, “It’s just a friendly suggestion.”

It was a suggestion that you begrudgingly took her up on. She really wasn’t that pushy about what to wear, but she knew that she was able to nudge you out of your comfort zone a little bit sometimes. You’d ended up with a simple, low-cut black tank top, the jeans she had suggested, and a pair of black boots. You weren’t going to risk snapping your ankle in a pair of heels when you didn’t know what you’d be walking into.

Elena may have been persistent, but she was a woman of her word. She stayed by you when you first arrived, knowing the scene was a little overwhelming when you first walk into it. You weren’t quite sure what you had been expecting, but this wasn’t quite what you had pictured in your mind. It was a little tamer, a little less chaotic than your brain had been telling you it would be.

“C’mon,” she tugged you towards the bar, “I’ll get you a beer.”

“Elena, who are all these people?” you asked quietly as you scanned the room.

She started pointing out the members of the MC one by one, telling you their names and a few fun facts about each. Some of the facts were a little more information than you cared to know, but she got you to laugh. Some of the girls you recognized because they’d come over and hang out at your apartment sometimes, and it was nice to know that you knew more than just one person at the party. They said there was power in numbers, right?

“Hey, querida,” a voice piped up from behind the two of you.

Elena turned, a smile instantly spreading across her face as she walked up to the man who had been speaking to her and letting him scoop her up in a hug, “Angel, hey!”

He set her down and his eyes found their way over to you. You felt small under the weight of his gaze but you tried not to let it show. He glanced back to Elena, “You brought a friend?”

She laughed, nodding, “Angel, this is my roommate, and best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Angel, the biggest pain in the ass in the MC.”

He placed a hand over his chest, an exaggeratedly pained expression on his face, “Right to my heart.”

The three of you laughed and you shook your head slightly, the nerves beginning to dissipate a little bit. You weren’t expecting him to plop down on the stool next to yours, but he did. You looked over to Elena, as if to ask if you should be worried about anything. She flashed you a smile as she sat down on the other side of you, giving your arm a light, reassuring squeeze as she reached for her drink.

“So what questionable decisions led you here tonight?” he asked with a laugh as he took a swig of his beer.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Just throwing Elena a bone. She’s been wanting me to come here with her for a while.”

“Didn’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of degenerates?” there was a playful smirk on his face.

You smiled, “More like I didn’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of people in general,” you laughed, “I’m a bit of a homebody.”

“I’m working on that,” Elena piped in with a smile.

The three of you sat at the bar and talked for a little while. You could tell that Angel was trying to get a read on you, the new girl. You couldn’t be mad because you were doing the same thing to him. He was smooth, flirtatious, but not overbearingly so. That was a game you’d be willing to play for the night while you pacified your friend. If you were going to be forced to socialize, there were worse people to look at while doing it.

Elena must’ve gotten the vibe from you, because she politely excused herself from the conversation, letting you know that she wouldn’t be far if you decided that you wanted to bail and go home. You saw the smirk tugging at her lips as she walked away though, knowing that you were having a much better time there than you’d ever admit.

“So I gotta know,” Angel asked as he idly toyed with the beer bottle in his hands, “how does a homebody like you end up rooming with Miss “Life of the Party” Elena?”

You laughed, trying not to stare at the way his ringed fingers traced and curled around the neck of his beer bottle, “We actually had a few classes together our first year in college,” you shook your head, “Nothing bonds two people together like suffering through statistics classes together.”

He chuckled, “Fuck that.”

“That was exactly how we felt.”

The longer the two of you talked, the more he tested his boundaries. He wasn’t pushy, or inappropriate, but he was definitely trying to figure out what made you tick. You weren’t going to give him that kind of satisfaction so quickly, though. You bantered back and forth with him, and you couldn’t remember the last time a guy had you laughing so hard.

Angel was in the middle of an incredibly cheesy pickup line that he swore has worked for him before when the song coming through the speakers changed. You couldn’t help but to perk up a little bit at the familiar beat and Angel noticed the shift immediately. He watched you for a moment as he tried to feel out the situation.

“Wanna dance?”

You shook your head no with zero hesitation, “No thank you.”

He laughed, “C’mon, why not? Live a little.”

You smiled but didn’t move to get up from your stool, “I’m sure there are plenty of women here tonight that would love to dance with you, Angel.”

He didn’t push the topic any further. You were smiling but he could see the flash of emotion in your eyes and he knew that there was something there that you weren’t ready to tap into yet with him. So, instead, he got you another beer and delved back into his cheesy pickup line story. When you realized that he was going to move past what you just said and not make it awkward, the tension immediately melted out of your body. You gladly took the beer bottle from him as you listened him ramble into another story.

“Yo, Angel,” Coco called from the pool table, “get over here. Bring your friend, we need two more.”

“You play pool?” Angel asked you, curious to your answer.

You shrugged as you hopped off the stool, “I mean I know how to.”

He laughed as he followed you across the clubhouse, “That’s not a super reassuring answer, querida.”

“Man, fuck him. You can be on my team,” Coco said with a laugh, “He and Gilly can fend for themselves.”

There was something reassuring and welcoming about the way that Coco spoke to you—like he had known you for years. He handed you your pool stick, smile still plastered onto his face. This wasn’t how you had originally pictured your night going, but you weren’t upset about it.

About halfway through the game, Angel was pissed that he didn’t try to team up with you. You and Coco were on a hot-streak and he really didn’t expect that from you. He shook his head as you sank another shot, and you had to laugh at the way that Coco was able to effectively gloat with just a simple look thrown Angel’s way.

“I mean I know how to,” Angel mocked you with a laugh as he shook his head, watching you line up to take another shot, “Can’t believe you fuckin’ hustled me.”

You laughed, “I don’t think you can call it hustling if there’s no money involved. You’re just mad because we’re about to whoop your ass.”

He chuckled and glanced over at Coco, “Don’t look so smug, Coco. She’s fuckin’ carrying you right now.”

The game wrapped up quickly with you and Coco both doing so well. Gilly had been more than content to sit back and watch it all happen, reveling in the fact that someone, and someone new at that, was kicking Angel’s ass at pool. Angel was shaking his head as he set his stick aside, still trying to figure out how all of that just happened. For someone who claimed that they didn’t like going out and doing things, you seemed to be full of surprises.

“Since I am a gracious winner,” you said with a laugh as you let Coco put your stick away, “I’ll buy you all a drink.”

Angel went to protest, not wanting you to be buying anything for any of them, but Gilly slapped his chest to stop him. The look on Gilly’s face made it very evident that no matter how cute the girl was, none of them were about to be turning down free drinks. Angel laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

As the night wore on, slowly but surely people began to trickle out of the clubhouse. You hadn’t really talked to Elena since you got wrapped up playing pool with the guys, but the two of you kept an eye on one another. Every now and then she’d shoot you a look, one that asked if you needed to get out, and you would just shake your head. She’d smile, sometimes throw you a wink, before getting wrapped back up into whatever she was doing. You knew that she was just glad to get you out of the house and socializing with people.

You and Angel were sitting next to each other on the couch talking, keeping your conversation low in the midst of music and noise still filling the clubhouse. You were shaking your head at him as he told you about some of the scrapes he’d gotten into with his brother, someone that you knew you’d also love to sit and have a conversation with eventually.

Elena walked up and gave you a nudge, smiling when you turned to her, “Not trying to rush you, but I think a couple of the girls and I are gonna head out. You want me to bring you home before I go with them?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to leave. But she was your ride, so it wasn’t like you were going to have much of a choice. Just as you were about to speak up and say you’d get ready to leave, Angel interrupted, “I can take you home if you want.”

You glanced back at him, arching one eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Yea,” he shrugged, smiling, “I don’t mind.”

Elena bit at her bottom lip, trying to fight back a smile, “You good with that, Y/N?”

You nodded, “Yea, I think so,” you laughed, “Worst case scenario I have pepper spray in my bag.”

“Jesus,” Angel laughed.

Elena shook her head with a grin as she leaned down to kiss your cheek, “Text me when you’re home. Love you.”

“Love you too. Text when you get to wherever the hell you guys are all going,” you chuckled.

“Will do,” she turned and hugged Angel, “Get her home safe, or I’ll beat your ass.”

He nodded, trying hard not to laugh because he knew that she was serious, “Yes ma’am.”

When she was gone and it was just the two of you again, things felt a little different. You suddenly became very aware of the way that his arm was draped over the back of the couch, his fingers almost brushing against your shoulder. Despite the number of people that were still in the clubhouse, it felt like it was just you two left. Everything else felt farther away.

“Can I ask where you’re from?” he leaned in a little closer to you and took a sip of his beer, “Because I feel like you’re not from around here.”

You smiled, shaking your head, “I’m not. I’m from the East Coast—came out this way for college,” you laughed, “Very cliché, I know.”

“Ah, you’re one of them girls, huh?”

“Who are them girls?” you chuckled.

“Had to get the hell outta dodge?”

You smiled and nodded, not really wanting to get into the details of your decisions, “Something like that.”

“You musta broke a lot of hearts when you left,” there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

You laughed, “Wouldn’t know—haven’t been back to find out.”

Somewhere along the line of your conversation, the two of you had gotten very comfortable. You had your legs pulled up underneath you as you leaned into him, his hand resting lightly on the nape of your neck. Every now and then when you laughed your hand would come to rest on his thigh for a moment or two before you pulled it back to your own body. He wasn’t bold enough to say it but he wished that you’d leave it there.

There was a brief lull in the conversation and you looked around the clubhouse, seeing that the two of you were some of the last people there. You checked your phone, seeing that you had gotten the safety update from your roommate almost an hour before and hadn’t noticed from being so enthralled with Angel.

“You got that look on your face like you gotta get going,” Angel said knowingly.

You sighed, “Yea, unfortunately I still have to go and do life stuff tomorrow,” there was a hint of laughter to your voice.

His thumb traced idly along the exposed skin at the base of your neck, “We can take the bike, if you want.”

You pressed your lips together for a moment, “I’ve never ridden on one before.”

He chuckled as he rose to his feet, helping you to do the same, “Something tells me you’ll be fine.”

The two of you walked out of the clubhouse, Angel’s hand settling on the small of your back. The chilly night air hit your skin and sent a chill through you. Without a second thought, Angel peeled off his sweatshirt that he’d put on and handed it over to you. You started to shake your head no but he wordlessly pushed the hoodie into your hands. You gave in with a smile, pulling it down over your head. It was warm, and you were practically swimming in the fabric, but you didn’t mind.

He let you use his helmet, and you settled behind him after climbing onto the bike. Your hands were lightly resting on his waist and he pulled your arms tighter around him, causing you to press flush up against his back.

“Don’t be shy, querida,” he chuckled, “For your own safety as much as anything else.”

You laughed, thankful that he couldn’t see the sheepish smile on your face as you let your body rest against his. The bike came to life underneath you and you nervously wrapped your arms a little tighter around him, and you could feel him laughing despite the fact that you couldn’t hear him over the noise of the bike.

Slowly you eased into the ride, your nerves subsiding a little bit. Angel must’ve felt the tension dissipating because he picked up the speed a little bit, causing you to laugh and tighten your hold on him. You knew that Angel knew the way to yours and Elena’s apartment, so you knew that he was taking the long way there. As much as you wanted to call him out on it, you didn’t want him to think that you minded. It was a peaceful, freeing feeling to be riding with him.

He rolled to a stop in front of your apartment building. You hopped off the bike, handing him back his helmet. The two of you stood there and you knew that he could feel the same type of tension in the air that you felt. For a night that you really hadn’t been looking forward to, it was the best time that you’d had in a while.

You went to take his sweatshirt off to give back to him but he shook his head at you, “Nah, keep it.”

“You sure?”

He nodded with a smirk on his face, “Yea. Just give it back next time I see you.”

You smiled, “Next time? Who said I’m coming back to the clubhouse?”

He laughed and shook his head, “Damn, you and Elena are both out to keep my ego in check, huh?”

“It’s good for you,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the fact that you felt nervous, trying to figure out how to say goodnight.

“But really,” he stepped in a little closer to you, forcing you to tilt your head up slightly to look him in the eye, “I’d really like to be able to see you again.”

You managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds, just long enough to make him nervous. You could see him racing to try and come up with a follow-up statement to get himself out of being rejected, and you let yourself smile as you nodded, “I’d like that.”

He let out an audible sigh of relief, “Had me worried for a second,” he chuckled.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Can’t make it too easy for you.”

He smiled, “Can I have your number? Or do I gotta level up for that?”

You rolled your eyes as you held your hand out, “Give me your phone before I change my mind.”

He chuckled as he dug it out of his pocket and pressed it into the palm of your hand. He watched you intently as you plugged your number in, smiling as you handed it back to him, “This your real number? Or one of those rejection hotlines?”

You smirked, “Guess you’ll have to call me and find out. One time I gave some dude the number that would just play the John Cena theme song over and over again. That was…peak rejection.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring for me, you get that, right?” he laughed.

You smiled and shook your head, “It’s my real number, promise,” you stood up on your tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, “Thanks for bringing me home.”

He couldn’t hide that he was surprised by the gesture. A huge smile spread across his face as he nodded, “Yea, any time.”

“Get home safe.”

He nodded, “I will,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you crossed your arms over your chest, trapping the heat against your body as you watched him get back on his bike and strap his helmet on. He flashed you another smile and you waved him off.

You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned around and made your way into your building. The walk up to your apartment seemed much shorter as you replayed the night over in your head. You turned the key in the lock and stepped in, glad to be home but simultaneously wishing that the night wasn’t over yet. You showered and threw your pajamas on, falling into your bed with a happy sigh. After shutting the light off and settling in underneath your blanket, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You reached over to see who it was, and smiled when you saw a message waiting for you from a new number.

“Home safe. Sweet dreams” after a few seconds a second text came in, “It’s Angel by the way”

You chuckled as you typed out your reply, ‘Thanks for the clarification. Got worried for a second”

“Just tryna be sweet and you can’t let me have it, can you?”

“Nope” you were laughing in the quiet darkness of your room.

“Alright. Sweet nightmares then. Goodnight”

You could picture his face and you couldn’t stop smiling, “Goodnight xo”

You set your phone off to the side again, settling back down underneath your covers. Your body wanted to sleep but your brain was too busy replaying the entire night over again and you couldn’t stop smiling.

[syllvane]

muscle memory pt. 4- sylvie x reader

a/n: love is hate. or whatever. part 4!

read the previous part    read the next part     read the series  

“How did you-” Loki started to ask before Sylvie snatched the TemPad from your hands, before looking at it in a stupor.

“Are you an…” Her harsh tone dissipated as she remembered who she was talking to and the expression on her face became a tad softer. “You couldn’t have brought a charged one?”

You looked between the two Variants, your gaze settling on the woman with blonde hair, on Sylvie.

“There was a bit of a shortage. Don’t know if you’d know anything about that.”

You took the TemPad back from her and she didn’t say anything, turning away from you and Loki looked between the two of you.

“I’m missing something here,” He noted.

“It’s none of your business.”

“That makes two of us.”

You and Sylvie spoke simultaneously and Loki ran his hands through his hair, sighing loudly.

“Where are we, anyways?” He asked, peering out the windows of the abandoned structure that they were in.

“Lamentis-1,” You responded nonchalantly.

Sylvie blinked, rounding on you again, furious.

“You followed us to Lamentis-1? Are you stupid?”

You knew that you should’ve been outraged- in the brief period of time that you had known her, Sylvie had possessed you, filled your head with false memories, blown up the Sacred Timeline, and now she had called you stupid.

Yet, all you could think of in regards to her was how pretty she looked in the purple light.

“You guys came here first.”

“It’s not like I had any say in the location,” She snarled, though the anger wasn’t directed at you this time, but rather at Loki.

“Well, it’s not like I-”

Before he could finish, a piece of the moon that was on a collision course with the planet fell from the sky, breaking the roof of the shelter and landing at Loki’s feet.

He quickly reevaluated what he wanted to say.

“We should find some proper shelter.”

Sylvie glared at you for a couple of seconds more before looking out of the window, the faint purple light illuminating her face.

“There’s a structure across the way. It’ll hold up longer than what we’re in now,” She said, not waiting for the two of you to concur before she exited the makeshift shelter.

You and Loki followed close behind.

When the three of you reached the shelter, Loki went to the far wall and leaned against it and you leaned against the wall closest to the door, closing your eyes as another wave of dizziness came over you.

There were a couple of quiet footsteps before they stopped in front of you and you grabbed Sylvie’s hand midair, as she was about to touch your cheek again.

“Touch me again and I’ll cut your hand off.”

You felt energy thrumming underneath your touch but you didn’t let go, your eyes locked with Sylvie’s.

You knew what you were fighting now- you wouldn’t let her do that to you again.

She yanked her arm away from you, anger mixing with something else on her face and she went back to sulking at her end of the mining shaft before rounding on you again.

“Give me the TemPad.” She said to you, her patience seemingly waning as she pulled out a dagger from seemingly nowhere.

Still, you remained unfazed. If she was going to cause you harm, she would’ve done it by now.

“I gave it Loki.” Her eyes widened and she looked at you incredulously, then at Loki, then at you again.

“You gave it to him?”

“You've given me zero reasons to trust you.”

“And he has?”

You glanced at Loki, who was watching the situation between the two of you play out carefully.

(You silently thanked him for not immediately exposing your lie to Sylvie.)

“At least he’s honest about his dishonesty.”

“I don’t remember you ever being this stupid,” Sylvie practically snarled at you before turning towards Loki, pointing her dagger towards him, letting the two of them butt heads for a little bit longer before it seemed as if actual violence may occur between the two.

“This isn’t doing us any good, all you guys are doing is wasting precious time. We need to find a power source to charge the TemPad,” You interrupted the two of them and they both looked at you. “Unless, of course, you two want to kill each other in an abandoned mining shaft. Then by all means, go ahead, just leave me out of it. I couldn’t care less.”

You walked out of the mining shaft and started towards a settlement in the distance that didn’t seem to be as severely affected by the impending doom of the entire planet, hoping that there would be some power source there.

It doesn’t take long for Sylvie and Loki to run after you, apparently not as content as dying in a mining rig as they had been a minute ago.

They continue bickering as you walk in front of them.

“What even makes a Loki a Loki?” Sylvie snapped back in response to whatever dumb thing Loki had said before.

“Independence, authority, style.” He responded, as if he had given it a lot of thought before.

“Oh, makes sense that you went to go work for the boring, oppressive time police then. Really checks all the boxes.”

“I don’t work for them, I’m a consultant.” He corrected her.

“You don’t know what you want.”

“Yeah? And what about you?”

Sylvie slowed down for a second, looking at you and Loki slowed down as well, his eyes narrowing.

“What is it with you and-”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll cut your tongue out.” She threatened and you groaned, turning around and looking at them like an exhausted parent- you finally felt some sympathy for how Mobius must feel every day.

“Are we really back on the whole threatening to kill each other thing?” You snapped.

Neither Loki nor Sylvie said anything immediately.

“You’re much less fun when you’re serious,” Loki noted and you blinked.

“Yes. Well, my sincerest apologies for trying to get everyone off of this planet alive. I will refrain from doing so in the future. Can we get on with this now, or do you have any more quarrels about me saving your lives?”

[ladyvesuvia]

[Navigation] [Masterlist]

@firewhiskyss: 🎢 harry with either “That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?” or “I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.” because my heart can’t handle angst rn 😋☝🏼|| for my 300 followers celebration

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Muggle!Reader

Summary: Being stuck in the elevator is bad enough, but being with a stranger makes matters worse.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: not proofread, light cursing, elevators, power outage + let me know if i missed anything

A/N: too bad u cant handle angst i could’ve found ways to sneak that into this hehe jk anywaaayy ok i felt uninspired sorry hydagjih

Harry held a bag he did not own in his hand. His shirt was a bit muddied and moist on one side, but he didn’t mind. He stood in front of the eighth door he’ll be knocking on in hopes it was the owner of the bag. It still wasn’t, though.

Instead, a woman his age greeted him with a smile. She was pretty, sure, but she wasn’t what he was looking for. He apologized for interrupting and went ahead to knock on the ninth door.

It swung open, and Harry let out a long sigh.

AN HOUR OR SO AGO

“Hold the door!” said a voice from the lobby. Harry pressed the open door button in haste, the doors doing as it was told to do. The figure rushed inside, hair dripping wet on the tiled floor of the elevator. He kept his eyes trained to floor as she moved his way to press the button to the eighth floor. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

The girl next to him began to dry her drenched hair with a purple towel, patting herself dry. Harry risked a brief glance in her direction — she was wearing a floral one-piece swimsuit which she layered with denim shorts. When she caught his eye, they both inched away from each other uncomfortably. To their relief, the elevator started to move up.

Nobody seemed to be coming in just yet. After all, it was six p.m. and most were probably outside biding their time for night swimming. Harry, on the other hand, just came down to get a box of doughnuts for Mr. Weasley, who he can only assume was changing into his swimming trunks in their hotel room. The rest were probably doing the same.

Harry was waiting for it to reach the ninth floor when the elevator lurched to a stop on the seventh. While Harry refused to meet eye contact with the girl next to him, she was busy trying to convince herself it was alright.

It’s okay, she thought to herself as she made a show of more aggressive patting of her hair in more of an attempt to calm her drumming heartbeat than to really dry it. Another passenger was probably just entering.

But she knew better, they both knew better. The lights above them began to blink in an inconsistent manner. To her dismay, the doors did not open nor did they continue to go up.

They both turned to each other with a bewildered look on their faces. Harry made to reach for his wand, but held himself back. Then the lights went out along with the tiny ones coming from the buttons. Harry froze. He heard the stranger next to him shift, probably wrapping the towel around herself. She had stopped pretending to pat herself now. Harry watched as her as she dropped her bag down on the wet tiled floor and pulled out a bulky gray block from it. Harry stood there awkwardly as if a statue while she kept on fumbling with the block thingy he now recognized was a flip phone. A light glowed from it, her face looking similar to that of a ghost.

She pressed it against her ear, but it seemed to not be working. She then raised her hand higher in hopes of getting better reception to no avail. Harry cleared his throat. The girl’s head whipped to his direction. “The emergency call button,” said Harry.

“I know,” she spat, reaching out for the buttons. But instead of clicking that particular button, she clicked the button for opening doors. Harry noticed she seemed to be shivering a bit even with the towel.

The girl was still dripping, albeit lesser now. She kept pressing the open door repetitively with her wrinkly fingers. Harry remained stiff, unsure if he should use his wand. “What floor are we currently?”

Taken aback, Harry didn’t respond for a couple of seconds until she reached out to his shoulder to check on him. “Oh, er — seventh, I think.”

He then heard her click a button he supposed was for the seventh, then a bunch of other buttons the next.

“We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die. . . .” Harry found that he preferred the constant clicking noises from the buttons over her constant reminder of their ‘impending doom.’ It was like fourth year all over again when their Divination teacher Professor Trelawney kept telling him he was going to die an early death. She kept chanting to herself in hysterics.

“Have you tried . . . the emergency call button? The one with the bell?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” said the girl. To his surprise, she picked up her bag again and aimed it at the elevator door before swinging it right in the middle. She then started banging her fist hard on the doors, pounding. “Help! I’m stuck! I mean, we’re stuck! Hello? I’m wi —”

“There’s a press to call thing here,” pointed Harry.

“Good,” she remarked as she practically run to it when the elevator made a creaking noise from above. The girl let out a shriek as she fell backwards and pulled Harry down with her. “Lie flat or we’re both gonna die!”

“Why — ?”

“JUST DO IT.” He did. Both of them sprawled their legs and he felt the damp floor wet his back a bit, but he was still weighing the pros and cons of pulling out his wand. Of course, if it were up to him, he’d pull it out in a heartbeat but the Weasleys’ vacation was on the line and he couldn’t jeopardize that by—

The elevator whined, and it felt as if it was moving a bit. “We’re gonna plummet to do our death!”

“Calm down,” said Harry, hardly knowing why he even bothered in the first place because he didn’t know what to say next especially with the girl’s expectant eyes on him. He thought of what Hermione had told them when they first came here, who then attempted to calm the others down about their feelings on Muggle Elevators. “Er — elevators are one of the safest ways of transportation with only the fatality rate of zero point zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-something-fifteen percent per trip.”

“Oh, shut up, stranger,” cried the girl. “There’s still a fifteen in that end. We’re gonna die, accept that!”

“You seem to be the one having troubles accepting that,” argued Harry back. She shot him a glare.

“I haven’t written my will and we’re gonna die. You see — you hear that rumble? We’re slowly falling down and we’re gonna die. I should have — should have taken the stairs. Please, please, please let me live! I swear I’ll start eating vegetables! This is it stranger, we’re gonna die.”

“That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“We’re about to die and you have time to think? Lie with your chunkiest bits on the floor to increase our chance of survival.”

He wanted to argue, but he resorted to inching further away from her and stretching his limbs awkwardly.

“Damn it, you shouldn’t have kept the door open!”

“How is that my fault? If anything, I was being nice,” said Harry.

“Being nice? You just sentenced me to my death and now I’m dying in this cramped space in a swimsuit and shorts that aren’t even for swimming!”

Surprisingly, the elevator whined to a stop. They remained on the floor for half a minute. Eventually, she was the first to stand up. Dusting herself and not meeting Harry’s eye, she smashed the bell button with her finger. It buzzed for a few seconds before a guy’s voice answered.

“Hello,” said the operator. The intercom seemed to be having troubles.

“Uh, hello, hi,” replied the girl.

“So are you currently stuck in the elevator?” Harry could hear the girl turn to him in the dark and call up the look of utter disbelief, as if wanting to reply, ‘No shit.’

“Yes, very much.”

“Okay, are you alone?” asked the operator.

“Unfortunately, no. I’m with . . .” she trailed off, turning to Harry with prolonged contemplation. “With stranger. I’m with stranger. A stranger. With a stranger, I mean.”

“May I know your names please?”

“Uh, sure? I’m . . . Papier Matchen and this is —”

“Har — Neville. Neville Longbottom, sir,” answered Harry. The operator did not respond. “Neville Longbottom.”

“Are you both guests?” asked the operator.

“Yes,” said [Y/N]. “Wait, are you a guest?”

“I am a guest,” said Harry stiffly.

“He’s a guest,” she added, as if in an attempt to keep whatever morale is left high. The operator didn’t respond again. “Hey, uh, operator? It would really help if you didn’t keep disappearing on us.” She chuckled nervously.

“What floor are you currently on?” said the voice with a bit more static.

“Uh, well,” she said, turning to Harry, “last time we checked, it was on the seventh but it moved down a bit and we might be in-between floors seven and six.”

“Alright, thank you. We’re currently experiencing a city wide power outage, and it appears that the back-up battery in Elevator Three has not yet been replaced since the last brownout. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Yeah, you should be sorry. So, uh, is any of your authorities gonna come and pick us up?”

No response. She pressed the button again. And again. And again. No sound came, not even static. “Hello? Hi?”

When no one responded again, she slumped to the floor once more, her hair still wet but no longer dripping. “Sit down,” she said, pointing at the spot right next to her. Harry obliged. “You can sit across, I don’t care. I know I smell like chlorine right now.”

Harry sat across from her, leaning back against the wall. She didn’t talk either. This went on for about five minutes until Harry had the urge to do something or at least say something.

“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking,” he started.

“A dangerous pastime, you should be afraid. Go ahead,” she said, gesturing a finger gun his way.

“Shouldn’t we try to get out of this?”

“Who are you, Bruce Willis? Need I remind you that you are Nev . . . Bottom?”

“That’s not actually my name,” said Harry.

“Same, I just said Papier Matchen off the top of my head. Like papier mache but witchy. My name’s actually pretty good, I think. I’m [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Oh, wait, nope, don’t like it.”

“I think it’s good.” [Y/N] turned on her phone and shone it around until it landed on his face. Harry realized he had kept the box of doughnuts in the corner when she made them sit down. “I’m Harry,” he said when she finally turned off the phone.

[Y/N] turned it on again and directed it to the box of doughnuts. “Are those doughnuts to make us super tiny like Alice in Wonderland or something?”

“Oh, those are for my friend’s father.”

“Let’s eat it, I’m hungry,” said [Y/N].

“It’s for my friend’s father.”

“You have to realize that that is so not a good enough point. We’re trapped in an elevator with no means of communication with that musty man and eating that is the only thing we can do. Unless you want to do something else?”

“Er — What?” choked Harry, clearing his throat. “Okay, fine, uh, doughnuts.”

She made a triumphant sound Harry couldn’t explain, but paid it no mind as she reached out to grab the box of doughnuts from the corner. She set it in front of her.

“Hey, these are from my aunt’s bakery.”

“They are?” asked Harry.

“Yeah! The one across the street from here?” asked [Y/N], to which Harry nodded. “Ooh, you got the one with Oreos? Nice! I helped design those.”

“Okay, uh, can I have some?”

“I thought it was against your will to take some of these from your ’friend’s dad?’” teased [Y/N], but she handed him a doughnut anyway. Harry began to eat just like she did. “Sorry I forced you to lie down here. . . .”

She looked at him, waiting for something. What? Harry furrowed his brows, confused.

“Sorry, I mean, what’s your name again?” asked [Y/N], hints of the chocolate stuck between her teeth and some on her lips.

“Harry Potter,” replied Harry, who debated against himself whether or not he should point it out. After all, she seemed to be having a good time and they just started to lose the tension. “You’ve got uh, something on your, you know.”

“I know,” said [Y/N], but she didn’t do anything about it. “Anyway, can you believe six and seven are lucky numbers yet here we are, stuck in the wretched elevator between them?”

“No, that’s why I don’t really believe in those . . . things.”

“I’d say that’s insulting, but I’m dripping in my swimwear while I’m stuck in the elevator with a total stranger, so fair enough.”

Harry didn’t know how long they were talking, but it just went on. He was pretty sure there were times he even laughed. Harry reached out to grab another doughnut when he realized she was holding it as well. They both let it drop back to the box.

“Oh, no, it’s yours,” said [Y/N].

“It’s okay, you can have it,” said Harry.

“I ate more than you did, you can have it. Just go,” said [Y/N].

“You can —”

“You know what? Let’s just split it.”

[Y/N] ripped it in half, handing him the bigger slice. Just when Harry was going to offer to exchange, she swallowed it whole.

“Too late, I ate my half already.”

“I can see that,” said Harry. He began to eat his own half, savoring it with three more bites.

“Sorry I smell like chlorine again.”

“Eh, I don’t know, it’s kind of growing on me,” said Harry. “I shouldn’t have said that, sorry.”

“On a good day, that would sound like an insult but it’s anything but a good day, so, thank you, I guess.”

The two shared a laugh (and most definitely three) the entire time when the lights turned on. They could see each other clearly now. There was no denying they felt quite vulnerable — like finally meeting an friend you only send letters and emails to for the first time, but she smiled to make it feel lighter.

Suddenly, it started to move up again, [Y/N] kept them seated just in case it started plummeting again. It didn’t, though. It opened on the seventh, as the indicator told them so.

The intercom buzzed once more and different operator spoke. None of them stood up.

“Hi, power’s slowly being restored. How’s everyone?”

“We’re good,” said Harry. [Y/N] smiled in the shadows, tossing the towel in the corner. “Wait, you’re — er — good, right?”

“Yeah, surprisingly so,” she said.

“Good to hear, we’re currently doing the best we can to cater everyone’s needs. Has your, uh, elevator moved yet? Sorry, I’m new here. Anyway, has it?” asked the operator.

“Currently open on the seventh floor, but we’re both going up, all’s good now, don’t worry,” answered [Y/N]. She stood up, taking the towel with her.

“Okay, great, thank you and take care!” said the operator before the intercom buzzed off. Harry and [Y/N] stood there as the elevator door closed shut and began to move up and open again to the eighth.

“So,” started [Y/N], “this is me. My floor, I mean.”

“Right,” said Harry

“Well, I still don’t like elevators and I may or may not ride one ever again so I can’t believe I’d ever say this because it’s hella cheesy but thanks for making it bearable.”

“I feel like I should say, ‘you’re welcome?’” said Harry.

“Oh yeah, you should.”

The door began to close, but Harry pressed the open door button.

“Okay, you’re welcome.” The two shared lighthearted laughter. “Anyway, er — thank you, too. See you around?”

“Yeah, yeah, see you around. Bye.” [Y/N] waved as the doors closed between them and Harry was once again all alone in the elevator.

He noticed what a mess the floor was, and went to pick up the empty box of donuts. His hand went to where he kept his wand to clean up and looked around for cameras and found one tucked in the upper corner. Harry let his hand down and dusted his shirt with his hands when something caught his eye. A beach bag in the corner, resting carelessly.

The door finally opened to the ninth floor. Harry was frozen, looking directly at a long hallway of doors. It took a few seconds until it whirred and shut close. Not knowing what to do, Harry picked up the bag and swung it over his shoulder.

He tapped his foot as he waited for the elevator to go up to the twelfth floor until it began going down again. He pressed the button to the ninth floor again.

Ten.

Eleven. A couple his age entered, probably about to go down. Narrowed eyes landed on him and his dirty shirt and pants, but he paid them no mind.

Twelve. The couple started to talk about their plans on the honeymoon tomorrow. Harry busied himself by playing with the straps of the beach bag. He realized just now it had her name inside one of the straps lazily written with a sharpie. [Y/N], it stated.

Eleven again.

Ten again.

Nine again. The door opened, but he did not step out. Of course, the couple began to eye him with suspicion now as he reached out to press the button to the eighth floor.

Eight. When he stepped out, he heard the hushed but relieved sighs from both of the other two behind him as the elevator proceeded to close shut and go down.

Harry knocked on the first door. A man in his pajamas answered. Harry muttered an apology as he walked away to try the second door. He heard the first door swing shut.

The second door was equipped with a sign on the doorknob saying, ‘Do not Disturb.’ So, of course, Harry moved on to the third. He heard loud sounds of children playing inside. When he knocked, a tired woman carrying a toddler in her arms answered. Harry apologized once more and moved on.

Harry’s shoulder was aching, so he let the bag down and simply held it in his hands.

The fourth door was answered by a middle-aged man holding a glass of wine.

The fifth door’s knob held the same message as the the second — ‘Do not Disturb.’

As you may recall, Harry held a bag he did not own in his hand. His shirt was a bit muddied and moist on one side, but he didn’t mind. He stood in front of the eighth door he’ll be knocking on in hopes it was the owner of the bag. It still wasn’t, though.

Instead, a woman his age greeted him with a smile. She was pretty, sure, but she wasn’t what he was looking for. He apologized for interrupting and went ahead to knock on the ninth door.

It swung open, and Harry let out a long sigh.

An older woman greeted him with a pleasant smile. “Hello, dear,” she said. He took a shot and asked if she knew anyone by the name of [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Unfortunately though, she did not.

Harry finally made it to the last door. He knocked once more, holding the bag tighter now. A little kid answered, with her parents and siblings in the background, eating pancakes. They did not know of someone named [Y/N] [Y/L/N], either.

Shoulders slumping, Harry made his way back to the elevator. He pressed the up button.

“Excuse me?” called out a voice from behind him. His heart skipped a beat. Wait, don’t skip, he thought to himself.

It still wasn’t her. It was the same girl from the ninth door. “Yes?”

“You’re looking for [Y/N]?” she asked. “[Y/N] [Y/L/N]?”

“Er — yes. Do you know her?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, she’s in the shower. Is that her bag?”

“Oh!” He almost forgot that he was holding it. “Yes, yes it is.”

“I can give it to her,” called out the woman. She closed the door behind her, making her way towards him. When she was close enough, she extended her hand.

The elevator dinged open. Harry was about to hand it over to her, when he decided something else.

“Er — no, uh, I was actually hoping if I could see her.”

She let her hand down, grinning. “You must be Elevadork.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s an inside joke,” said Harry.

“You can wait inside,” said the girl. “I’m Karolina, by the way. She’s just showering because she’s, and I quote, ‘will be too unlovable if smelling like chlorine.’”

Harry chuckled as Karolina led him to their hotel room. It was just like every other room he had seen, then he saw the same towel she had with her just a while ago when they were stuck with only each other’s company.

“He was nice, though. I wouldn’t mind seeing him again. By the way, we’re out of hair conditioner. My hair badly nee — Harry!” [Y/N] tumbled backwards to the bathroom with a different towel wrapped around herself. Harry’s eyes widened, and he turned around.

“He wanted to return your bag and ask you out,” said Karolina.

“That’s not what I actually said,” whispered Harry, turning crimson.

“Honey, trust me, it was definitely what you said,” laughed Karolina, patting him in the back. “You might want to change first.”

“I guess,” added Harry.

[Y/N] rushed to the get her clothes from one of the two beds and ran back to the shower, where she hastily pulled on her shirt and checkered pajama pants.

“She’s done changing, by the way,” said Karolina, patting Harry on the shoulder again as she left to pour iced tea for herself.

[Y/N] led Harry out, earning two thumbs up from Karolina, who was beaming up at the two of them. “How’d you find me?”

“Fate,” said Harry mockingly, as if from a show. She giggled. “I knocked on all the doors in this hallway.”

“To return a bag?”

“Sure, that, too. But mainly to ask if you’d like to get some — er — doughnuts with, uh, me. I really want to bring some up to —”

“Your friend’s dad, right,” [Y/N] cut out. “Are we still taking the elevator?”

“Yeah,” said Harry.

They finally reached the elevator, where they stood side by side.

“Aren’t you going to change first?” asked [Y/N].

“Nope,” said Harry, pressing the down button. He turned to [Y/N], looking at her shirt. “Does that say ‘Treacle Treat?’”

“Yeah, like as in Trick or Treat. See the pumpkin?” She pointed at the bottom part of her shirt.

“Oh, there it is.” The two were laughing even when they stepped into the elevator. They exchanged a knowing glance at the sight of scattered crumbs of doughnuts on the floor, not daring to talk about it in front of one another guest.

As the elevator began to go down, Harry realized he might as well believe in the lucky numbers. After all, if it weren’t for six, seven, and nine, he wouldn’t be here right now standing shoulder up to shoulder with the girl wearing a funky shirt.

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