#i also embarrassed myself in front of him earlier and i’m pretty sure he thinks i’m an idiot now too 👍

[average-dilf-enjoyer]

daily affirmations are starting to look like “i don’t like my boss” and “i don’t think my boss is attractive” it’s so bad 😩😩

[diorkyeom]

‘✷’ : CHAPTER NINE “venus and sun”

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chapter word count: 6k+ (ur welcome)

chapter warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption

summary: "lately, seokmin had come to a realisation. joshua hong, seokmin thought, was a little bit of an enigma." - in which seokmin has known joshua for years, but he's always been a bit of a mystery to him. and as the days go by, he finds himself falling further and further for the enigmatic man, wanting to find out who the real Joshua Hong is behind his polite smiles and warm eyes and sweet words.

notes: this chapter is sooo fun everyone :DD also heads up that the first scene is kinda flashback-esque!

Joshua wanted to go home.

He didn’t even know why he’d been invited to this party in the first place. It was a birthday celebration for someone he’d never met, a celebration choked full of drunk young adults, giddy on freedom and eager to finally rebel. 

But all Joshua could think about was how much he wanted to go home.

Truly home.

The air was chilling against his skin, goosebumps raising on his forearms as he wrapped his arms around his knees, shoes scraping awkwardly against the roof tiles. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable here, out on the roof of this person’s house, but it was where the noise was the most muffled, and Joshua wasn’t surrounded by the sharp smell of alcohol and sick.

And as he looked up at the clouded sky, tears blurring his sight as he watched the moon glow gently above him, he could almost imagine he was home.

Abruptly, there was a scuffling sound coming to his left, and Joshua whipped his head around to see someone pop their head through the open skyline window that he’d climbed through a few minutes earlier.

He and the person locked eyes, and Joshua floundered a little, panicked at having been caught in such a vulnerable state, torn between dredging up a polite smile or simply turning away and ignoring them and hoping that they’d go away without noticing the tears spilling out of his eyes.

“Oh! Goodness, are you alright?”

Joshua didn’t have time to make a choice before the boy scrambled through the window frame, banging his knee against the tiles as he pulled himself upwards, letting out a small “oh, shit” before somehow managing to kneel right in front of him, cupping Joshua’s face so suddenly that he gasped, tears welling up further.

The boy’s brow was furrowed in worry, big eyes darting back and forth between Joshua’s, glowing with such earnest concern, hands warm around Joshua’s face, his right thumb gently rubbing circles against his cheekbone.

He was beautiful.

“Don’t cry,” the boy said softly, his voice such a dizzying cerulean blue while his thumb continued to paint peach coloured stains into Joshua’s cheek. “Whatever you’re crying about, I’m sure it’s not worth your tears.”

Joshua's lips quivered, unable to stop the way his eyes blurred even more, filled to the brim with liquid silver, threatening to spill over at the gentleness with which this boy handled him.

“No, no, don’t cry,” the boy said again, almost panicked. “Don’t cry! Please don’t cry, my roommate is going to murder me if he finds out I snuck out to another college’s party and made the prettiest boy there cry.”

It was such an absurd statement, and probably not the most comforting one, but the oddity of it made Joshua blink, laughing a little, and the boy’s eyes positively lit up at the sound.

“You laughed! Oh, good, that’s good. Please don’t cry anymore. My roommate says that I’m stupidly empathetic so if I see someone cry then I’m gonna cry too, and then he’s gonna murder me again because not only did I sneak out and make a pretty boy cry, I’m also gonna embarrass myself in front of that pretty boy by crying too.”

The boy spoke so seriously, like he really was going to get murdered, and it made Joshua laugh again, and he couldn’t tell whether it was just his tear-blurred eyes or if it was actually the boy himself, but for a moment, the world blinded him with gold as the boy beamed.

“If you don’t tell your roommate, then I won’t either,” Joshua said, smiling, and the boy’s eyes widened before he beamed even brighter. “That way, you won’t be murdered.”

That made the boy laugh, a full and bright sound as he tilted his head back, warm hands falling away from Joshua’s face as he sat back on his heels. “Let’s do that,” he said, eyes crinkling. “Thanks for helping save my life.”

He crawled a little clumsily across the tiles until he was sitting next to Joshua, shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the sky.

“I’m glad you’re not crying anymore,” he said after a moment, and Joshua, wiping his eyes, turned his head to look at him. “I don’t know if you were crying over someone or just in general, but I’m sure that whatever it was, it really wasn’t worth your tears.”

Joshua sat silently for a moment, rubbing away the last of the tears from his cheeks. He thought of his home, of his mother sitting in a house all by herself, thousands of miles away, and swallowed down the uncomfortable lump that rose in his throat.

He looked down. “I miss my home.”

There was a beat.

“Oh,” the boy said quietly. 

Joshua could feel him looking over at him, his gaze oozing something painfully like pity, and for a moment, he contemplated pulling up a mask and just smiling and waving this whole conversation off. It would be so easy: painting a gentle pink over his lips, crinkling his eyes just so, making sure his voice came off smooth and unaffected, like a pane of glass.

But for some reason, he just couldn’t.

“I’m guessing this isn’t just some early-semester homesickness,” the boy said, his words still bleeding bright and gentle blues into the air. “You know, one of my best friends came here all by himself without his parents last year, because he wanted to make them proud.” He swallowed. “For seven months, he cried himself to sleep. I heard him across the dorms every night. But he never told them anything about it, because he didn’t want to worry them. And then, he and I finally met, and we became friends, and he no longer felt so homesick anymore.”

Joshua bit his lip, breathing in deeply and then slowly exhaling. 

“That’s the kind of thing you’re going through, right?” the boy asked softly.

Without saying a word, Joshua nodded, and then looked up at the sky. The moon was covered, no longer glowing silver down at him, but there was something strangely comforting about the shoulder pressed against his, a coppery warm glow of a presence that made him relax.

“I’ve been in Korea for quite a while, though,” he said, chuckling a little. “Guess that’s just how pathetic I am. It’s just… it’s so hard to show people who I really am. Everyone already has their own preconceived idea of what you should be like based on how you look, you know? And it’s just easier to play into that. To be who they think you are.”

The boy hummed contemplatively. “I don’t know. That sounds more difficult to me. To be someone who isn’t me…” He shook his head. “I can’t do it.”

Joshua smiled. “You’re a better person than me, then. But also it just makes me feel so lonely. I mean, all these different ways that I talk to people… they’re all still me, but still. No one really knows me. And I know it’s of my own making, but it still makes me feel alone.”

“No, no, I get it,” the boy said. “It’s okay. But I think it might be good to talk to people about this. Find someone, and make yourself lower your defences. Get rid of the mask. Find someone you truly love and trust, and just talk to them as yourself. It’ll help you feel less alone.”

“Hm. Maybe.” Joshua sighed, looking over at the boy only to find him already looking at him, and quickly lowered his gaze. “Who’d want to talk to the real me, though?”

The wind whistled, cold and biting, ruffling Joshua’s hair and stinging his eyes a little as he looked up, the boy suddenly scrambling around next to him so he could face him properly. His eyes were wide, honest, as he stuck his hand out in Joshua’s direction.

“My name’s Seokmin,” he said, and then grinned, a brilliant flash of sunshine bright warmth. “I go to a different college in the area, and while I’ve never met you before, I'm someone who wants to get to know the real you. You don’t need to put up a mask around me.” 

Joshua looked down at the outstretched hand, and then up at the boy—Seokmin, and found himself almost to be melting into his gaze, so wide and open and welcoming, looking at Joshua like he was the prettiest, most incredible thing that Seokmin had ever seen. 

And that was when Joshua fell. 

He smiled, and even though the angle was weird since they were sitting so close together, he grasped Seokmin's hand and shook it firmly. And he realised, then, that he didn't have a mask on at all at that moment. He'd been talking to Seokmin as his real self this entire time. 

Before he had a chance to open his mouth and return Seokmin's greeting, however, there came a screech from down below. 

"Lee Seokmin!" a voice screamed, sounding incredibly exasperated. 

And then, a moment later, a louder voice boomed, "Lee Seokmin! Where the fuck are you?"

Seokmin flinched, letting out an adorable, surprised squeak and immediately let go of Joshua's hand, shuffling backwards towards the window. 

"I gotta go," he said regretfully. "That's Minghao and Mingyu. They're gonna murder me if they don't find me within the next thirty seconds."

Joshua blinked, and then pouted a little, not attempting to mask his disappointment at Seokmin's abrupt departure. "Your friends sure do sound like they love murdering you."

"Yeah," Seokmin said with a laugh, all glistening ivory and sunny skies. "Maybe I need new friends."

He swung his legs over the window frame, ready to descend, before he looked back at Joshua again. They stared at each other for a long moment, before suddenly Seokmin was scrambling back over to him, reaching into his pockets and fishing out his phone, kneeling in front of Joshua with the device unlocked. 

Joshua blinked down at the open phone, and then up at Seokmin. "What?"

"I need to go now before I get my ass beat, and to be really honest, I'm a little too drunk right now to remember if you just told me your email or your number or anything at all, so…" Seokmin nudged the phone in Joshua's direction again, smiling all shy and sweet. "Could I have your number instead? Maybe?"

Behind Seokmin's head, the moon had reappeared from behind the clouds, but all Joshua could focus on were the golden rays of sunshine right in front of him.

"Yeah, of course," he breathed out, inputting the digits into a blank contact and, after a moment's hesitation, put a pink heart in as the contact name. "Of course you can."

Seokmin looked down at the contact once Joshua had finished, and smiled so heart-flutteringly wide that Joshua had to blink rapidly and breathe shallowly in an attempt to slow down his rapid pulse. 

"Lee Seokmin! If you don't appear within the next ten seconds, I'm telling Seungkwan where you are right this second!"

That made Seokmin grimace, and he pocketed his phone, immediately shuffling back towards the window once again. "That's my cue to leave. Knowing Minghao, he'll probably carry through with his threats."

"I’ll pray for your life," Joshua says solemnly, watching as Seokmin lowered himself through the window until only his head and shoulders were visible. "Hopefully you'll still live to see another day."

Seokmin laughed again, ripples of blue velvet and golden threads intertwining together. "Hopefully." He gave Joshua a little salute, beaming. "I'll text you."

And with that, he was gone. 

Joshua stared at the open window for a moment longer, before turning back to the sky. Everything felt a lot colder all of a sudden, but he just exhaled slowly, mulling over Seokmin and his words. 

Maybe it was time for him to text Jeonghan again. See how his old friend was doing after so long. 

Joshua smiled a little, mind drifting to the boy's last words, an inexplicable warmth spreading through his chest as he remembered his smile. He looked forward to that text from Seokmin. 

───────────── ‘✷,

Seokmin never did text him. 

After three weeks, Joshua gave up waiting, and did his best to forget about him entirely. He had Jeonghan now, anyway, his recently reconnected friend, and Jeonghan wouldn't allow Joshua to be anyone other than himself around him. 

He'd known Joshua back when they were small, after all. Before Joshua moved to the States. Joshua didn’t need another person to lower his mask around. He already had Jeonghan, and that was all he needed.

He was fine. Joshua was fine.

Every night, he tried not to think about sunshine smiles and cerulean blue voices, and gradually, the ache in his chest eased.

And then, Jeonghan had introduced Joshua to the rest of his (weirdly huge) friend group at their housewarming party a few months after graduation, and he'd been stunned at the sight of Seokmin, smiling and laughing and entering their house with his arm slung over a taller man with glasses. 

They shook hands, as Joshua had done with all of Jeonghan's friends, and he'd waited for that spark of recognition in Seokmin's eyes, for his sunshine smile to turn sky blue, but none came. 

So Joshua pursed his lips, and gave a smile, and buried his real self away. The one that Seokmin had inadvertently helped create, where Joshua laughed brightly and freely with a golden sort of openness that Seokmin's own warm earnestness had somehow influenced. He buried it away, and hid behind something softer, gentler. More distant. Something that was almost his real self, but wasn’t. 

Because Seokmin didn't seem to remember. 

And there was nothing that Joshua could do. 

───────────── ‘✷,

"Myungho-ya," Seokmin cried, distressed, the moment he burst through the man's apartment door. He stopped for a moment, took off his shoes and put on the slippers by the front door, before carrying on his frantic journey across the hallway until he flung open the door to Minghao’s studio, breathing heavily. “Myungho!”

Minghao didn’t even flinch, continuing to frown down sceptically at his canvas before squinting at his reference photo again. “What’s up,” he said, completely monotone.

“Myungho,” Seokmin whined, and ran his hands through his hair again. It was practically standing on end at this point, due to the amount of times he’d run his fingers through it. “I have a dilemma.”

“You always do.” Minghao didn’t look up, and pointed his pencil at the couch pushed against one wall of the room. “Have your meltdown over there. Close the door, too, you’re making the room cold.”

Seokmin dutifully closed the door, and then strode across the room to fling himself dramatically onto the couch, flailing around. “Did you know? That— that—” He squirmed a little, and then managed to haul himself upright, eyes wild. “Myungho.”

“Seokmin.”

“Remember that house party you, Mingyu and I snuck into once? During our second year?”

“Of course I do,” Minghao said dryly. He carefully continued sketching lines on his canvas. “Mingyu busted us into some random college party, and you managed to get so drunk that you threw up into three different plant pots. Then I forced you to drink water, and without even thanking me, you disappeared.”

“I did thank you!” Seokmin argued. And then he shook his head, waving his hands. “That’s not the point. I told you about the really pretty boy that I met at that party, right?”

Minghao squinted down at his canvas, pursing his lips and then huffing, grabbing his eraser. “The pretty boy that had your drunk ass rambling about pink and silk and colours and shit the entire way home?”

“Yeah! Him!” Seokmin pointed a finger excitedly. “I wasn’t that drunk. I was rather sober, actually! Especially since you gave me water.”

“No you weren’t,” Minghao said, dusting rubber crumbs from his canvas. “You didn’t even remember who gave you their number and made the contact name a pink heart.”

The mention of the contact had Seokmin’s eyes lighting up impossibly bright and then he deflated, groaning and curling up into a ball on the couch, tugging at his hair so hard that he was practically tearing it all out.

“That was Shua hyung,” he cried, impossibly distressed once more. “Shua hyung gave me his number, all those years ago, and I forgot about it! How could I have forgotten? This is horrible!”

Minghao laughed a little. “Wow, I would have been so hurt if I was Joshua hyung.”

Seokmin didn’t even seem to hear him, groaning again. He remembered seeing Joshua during Jeonghan’s housewarming party and just thinking that the man was so pretty and how did it not click in his head that Joshua and the pretty boy that he met on the roof were the same person?

This was awful. Utterly awful. Seokmin was such an awful person.

“There, there,” Minghao said, in what was truly a terrible attempt at comfort. He still wasn’t even looking in Seokmin’s direction. “Don’t worry. Knowing that hyung, he’s probably forgiven you already.”

Seokmin settled on the couch on his stomach, head on the armrest, slippered feet dangling off the other. “He was chill with it,” he admitted. “But I still feel so bad.”

Last night, when Joshua had told Seokmin that he already had the elder’s number, Seokmin’s eyes had widened and he’d scrolled through his contacts, trying to find what Joshua meant before landing on the only unnamed contact that he had.

The pink heart.

Seokmin’s memory of that party was spotty at best (maybe Minghao was right and he had been incredibly drunk) but the moment he saw the contact again, his entire conversation with Joshua came flooding back suddenly, so pristine and so sharp it was like it had happened yesterday.

“It’s okay,” Joshua said, smiling, but the colours in his eyes were wavering, floating between something candyfloss pink and celestial gold. “You did say you were rather drunk that night. I probably should have put my name, rather than that heart.”

Seokmin blinked rapidly, his heart racing fast for some unfathomable reason. “No, no, it’s my fault. I should’ve— I don’t even know how I forgot.” He looked down at his phone for a long moment, before up at Joshua again, holding his hand out. “This won’t do. Hyung, let me give you my number too. This way, if I forget again, you can be the one to pester me.”

Joshua had looked down at his outstretched hand, before his eyes crinkled and he’d beamed, bright and pearlescent and reminding Seokmin of something so rose gold in happiness. He set down the guitar and handed his own phone to Seokmin, smiling all the while, and Seokmin was sure that it was the happiest he’d ever seen Joshua look.

“Well, good for you,” Minghao said. “I’m very, very glad that Joshua hyung has your number, and you have his too. It’s the best thing in the entire world.”

Seokmin pouted, ruffling his hair and burying himself into his arms, eyes peeking out. “You and your sarcasm are gonna get you into trouble one day, you know.”

“It’s okay, Junhui hyung will bail me out,” Minghao said, beginning to draw the finishing touches to his sketch layer again. 

“He really would,” Seokmin huffed. “I wish I had a boyfriend to bail me out whenever I mess up.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sure.” Seokmin dangled his feet, watching Minghao sketch before shaking his head in disbelief. “Wow. I still can’t believe it was actually Shua hyung.” He lifted his head slightly, resting his chin on his arms. “After we exchanged numbers, he made me go back to bed, but the entire time, I was just internally tearing my hair out because I just couldn’t believe it.”

Minghao hummed, looking down at his reference and then up at his canvas again.

“And I feel so terrible that I didn’t recognise him,” Seokmin continued, whining. “How did I even forget I had his number in the first place? How did I not remember anything?”

The pencil stilled across the canvas, and Minghao set his things down, finally standing up from his stool to fetch his paints, looking over at Seokmin. “I think you should stop wallowing in your past regrets and make use of the gifts that the present has given you,” he said. “You thought you’d never see that boy again. And now he’s your friend. Just be grateful that the gods seem to love you so much.”

Seokmin thought for a moment, before grinning, rolling over onto his back. “They really do seem to love me, don’t they?” He sat up, leaning forward conspiratorially while Minghao reached for his paint tubes. “You know, a while ago, I asked the gods if they could help me see more of Shua hyung, because I realised I didn’t know anything about him and I wanted to get to know him better.”

“Let me guess, you suddenly started seeing him everywhere?” Minghao asked amusedly.

“I did!” Seokmin said, eyes wide. “It was—It was insane.”

The other laughed, shaking his head. “Your life is like a kdrama, Seokmin.”

“I dunno what kind of kdrama has the main character forget their first encounter with their prettiest friend,” Seokmin sulked. “A trash drama, maybe. Besides, don’t you think that Seungkwan would make a better main character than me?”

“No. He’s too bossy.”

Seokmin chuckled at that, tapping his chin. “Okay, how about Junhui hyung? The funny, awkward, handsome guy who’s pining over his best friend and roommate who won’t admit that he likes him back.”

Minghao was silent for a moment. “I think I’d be a better main character,” he said finally, standing up and walking over to the couch, pinching Seokmin’s cheek. “The long-suffering artist with a chaotic friend group who plots his friend’s deaths in his spare time.”

“Hey!” Seokmin laughed, swatting Minghao’s hand away. “That’s a terrible kdrama plot!”

───────────── ‘✷,

Seokmin had feared that, after that, his relationship with Joshua would change for the worse, but quite the opposite happened.

Seokmin still felt incredibly apologetic for forgetting their first encounter, but Joshua just smiled and waved off his apologies, saying that it didn’t matter and he was just happy to have Seokmin as a friend, right now.

They still saw each other at school, and accidentally mixed up their stationary with one another’s, and went home together at the end of each day. They still met each other at night, except now the encounters were all planned, with one of them texting the other ‘wanna meet up?’ whenever they couldn’t sleep. 

Sometimes, Joshua would bring his guitar, and he’d sing for Seokmin, all dizzying soft melodies that made Seokmin’s head spin and he promised himself every time that one day, he’d sing for Joshua too.

Everything was as comfortable and relaxing as before. Seokmin made nonsensical jokes and Joshua laughed all the same, and Joshua would do something totally unexpected and Seokmin would find himself grinning in disbelief. 

It was nice.

More than nice, actually. Everything with Joshua was always more than nice, more than just good, and things now were… were something, something that Seokmin couldn’t quite explain. Every time he looked at Joshua, or made the elder laugh, there was this thing, these words, this feeling just on the tip of his tongue, butterfly-light and sugary and soft, but he didn’t know what it was. 

He wanted to, though. It felt important.

“Remember that time I gave you flowers and then ran away?” Seokmin asked abruptly, and Joshua stopped mindlessly strumming his guitar to look at him, eyes twinkling even in the darkness.

“I do,” Joshua said, his voice ruby-coloured with amusement. “I asked if you were okay, and you just shoved flowers into my arms and sped off.”

Seokmin laughed as Joshua acted out the brief scenario, exaggerating his own confusion as he pretended to watch an imaginary Seokmin zoom away after giving him a bouquet of flowers. “Ah, those were the days. I don’t even know why I did that. I just panicked, I guess.”

“Aw,” Joshua said, pretending to be dejected, “did you just give me flowers in a panic? Were they not originally for me?”

That made Seokmin grin, and he bumped his shoulder against Joshua’s playfully. “No, no, of course! You’re totally right, hyung. I bought them for you. I know how much you love flowers, you know?”

Joshua laughed at that, tilting his head back and covering his mouth with his hand, eyes crinkled so that they were nothing more than delighted crescents, and Seokmin watched him, slightly amazed. They were squished together on the bench, Joshua’s side warm against his, and it made him smile even wider. 

Honestly, it was kind of incredible how much they’d changed since that Game Night many months ago, where Seokmin had first wondered at how much of an enigma their Joshua hyung was. 

Joshua had been totally elusive, then, with his cotton kindness and gentleness that felt real but also reserved, like he was holding back something. He’d been constantly hiding, albeit very well, but Seokmin had somehow known all the same, and slowly, slowly, as they grew more comfortable with one another, Joshua smiled more and talked more and the cotton melted into gentle, beautiful rose gold.

It was kind of incredible how Joshua had gone from being ‘Jeonghan’s pretty housemate’ to one of Seokmin’s closest friends.

“Oh, Seokmin,” Joshua said, setting his guitar down as a thought occurred to him, “you saw the music video for ‘To You’, didn’t you?”

Seokmin smiled. “I did.”

Seungkwan had burst into his and Soonyoung’s apartment the day it was released, insisting that they watch the MV premiere all together, before promptly dissolving into tears once the video had ended.

“It’s such a good song,” Joshua said. “Jihoon really outdid himself this time.” He smiled a little. “It still didn’t sound half as good as when you sang it.”

That made Seokmin scrunch his shoulders, ears pinkening in shy. “Oh, I don’t know. These guys are professional singers, you know? I could never beat them.”

Joshua smiled wider. “I wouldn’t be too sure. Anyways,” he hefted his guitar, strumming a familiar-sounding opening chord, “I learnt it.”

“No way,” Seokmin said, mouth falling open. “Already?”

“Already,” Joshua confirmed. “I wanted to play it for you.” He smiled at Seokmin again, this time a little softer, shyer, and Seokmin watched him attentively, eager, and so he took a deep breath and began to play.

The melody had already sounded gorgeous, courtesy of Jihoon’s genius, but sung in Joshua’s voice, it was something else entirely.

Seokmin’s mouth fell open as Joshua sang the first two verses, his voice a twinkling array of tiny glass crystals in the air. It was a slower tempo than the original song, and it sounded almost like some sort of romantic serenade, making Seokmin’s heart thump even harder in his chest.

And then Joshua looked up at Seokmin as he neared the second verse, almost at the chorus, and time seemed to slow down as his eyes crinkled, warm and patient and waiting to see if Seokmin wanted to join in, and without even realising what he was doing, Seokmin opened his mouth and sang along too.

Joshua’s smile only widened, and Seokmin found himself beaming too as their voices blended together in the night air, silver and gold, crystals and velvet. 

The harmonies, amazingly, seemed to come easily to them, and Seokmin laughed a little in disbelief at how in sync they were, how they glided across the pearlescent melody effortlessly, Joshua’s guitar a beautiful, ringing sound between them, and for as long as the song continued, Seokmin felt like they were being encased in their own, delicate bubble, with rainbow walls and muffling the sounds of the rest of the world.

“If an eternal love exists, then that is what you are,” Seokmin sang softly, and Joshua let the last chord unfurl itself in the air, threading pale violet and ivory into the night before eventually dissipating into nothingness.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment, too afraid to shatter the sacred, tranquil atmosphere between them. And then Joshua lowered his guitar, letting it rest comfortably in his lap, and leaned back against the bench with a sigh.

“Beautiful,” he said simply, turning to look at Seokmin, and Seokmin was reminded of when Joshua first heard his recording, and the only thing he’d said had been ‘pretty’. “That was beautiful.”

“I know right,” Seokmin said, his voice still hushed with wonder. “You played so well, hyung.”

Joshua chuckled, and his eyes were bright. “I meant your singing.”

Seokmin’s eyes widened. “Me? Oh, hyung, what about you? Your voice was just so…” He clasped his hands together. “It just fits the gentleness of the song so well. Your voice is so pretty. You’re so pretty.”

He blinked in surprise at his own words, but Joshua didn’t seem to mind, simply laughing and looking down.

“Thank you,” he said, and then nudged Seokmin gently. “You’re so pretty too. You and your voice.”

Seokmin stuttered, a flush instantly dusting his cheekbones and he looked out at the river, unable to even glance in Joshua’s direction. “Um. Thank you.”

Joshua chuckled, and the sound was endlessly fond, even to Seokmin’s own ears, and he wondered what could have evoked such an endeared laugh from him. He breathed in slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on the darkened river, and after a moment, Joshua looked away from Seokmin to look out at the river too. 

The wind was still, almost hushed, and there was no sound, save for the rushing of the water. It was quiet, and for once, Seokmin’s own mind was quiet too, and it was gloriously calm in his brain, so beautifully calm that he looked over at Joshua, and beamed.

"Shua hyung," Seokmin said, and Joshua turned to look at him, his gaze all open and golden, "you really are so pretty."

Joshua tilted his head, and then laughed. "Thank you, Seokmin."

Seokmin frowned. Joshua didn't sound like he understood. "No, really," he insisted. "You're so, so, pretty. Pretty like Aphrodite, you know?"

“Aphrodite?” Joshua was still smiling, like Seokmin had told him a joke.

“Like Aphrodite,” Seokmin confirmed. “I think you have the kind of prettiness that would make people want to start wars over you.”

Joshua hummed thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t that make me Helen, rather than Aphrodite?”

Seokmin blinked. “Oh! You’re right. It would.” For some reason, he felt strangely… touched, that Joshua knew exactly what he was referring to, and was able to make his own links to the Iliad that Seokmin was studying for work. “It still applies, though. You have the kind of prettiness that makes the gods fight over you too.”

“Do I?” Joshua said, and his fingertips lightly traced along the face of his guitar. “I’m not sure. I don’t think I’m all that special.”

Seokmin clicked his fingers, leaning into Joshua’s space. “See, that makes you even more like Aphrodite. Or, love. Because you’re really pretty, hyung. Like, objectively pretty. But you kind of downplay it? You don’t seem to realise how pretty you are. You’re soft and bashful but also also undeniably pretty, and don’t you think that that’s what love is?”

Joshua blinked, Seokmin’s fingers inches from his nose. He smiled a little, relaxing. “Love is something soft and gentle and pretty, huh?” he said, and Seokmin beamed, leaning back.

“Exactly! That makes you exactly like the god of love, then. Because you’re the epitome of that.”

That made Joshua’s eyes widen slightly, and he looked at the river for a moment before eventually turning his gaze back to Seokmin, face softening.

“Perhaps you’d be Apollo, then. Multi-talented, as bright as the sun, and incredibly beautiful too.”

“Me? No way,” Seokmin pffted, waving a hand. It did remind him of what Jeonghan had said once, and he paused, thinking. “Though, Jeonghan hyung said a similar thing.”

“What did he say?”

“That I’m a Sun,” he said, pointing a finger at himself, looking thoughtfully out at the river, “and I ought to be loved gently. By a Venus.”

He turned to Joshua, and in the low light, he saw the way the elder’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked down, casting soft smudges against his cheeks. Neither of them said anything for a moment, but then Joshua looked up, and the smile was back on his face.

“Did he really? That’s so interesting,” Joshua said. “Do you agree with Jeonghan, though?”

“I think I do,” Seokmin said after thinking a little. “It would be nice to have someone treat me like I’m precious. Like I really, really matter.” He chuckled a little. “But then again, I guess everyone wants that, you know?”

Joshua’s lips curled upwards weakly. “Yeah.”

“But I think I want to love a Venus too,” Seokmin carried on, still talking to the river, and he missed the way Joshua’s eyes widened. “I want to love someone… greatly, you know? I want to give them all my love, give them an eternal love. A Venus, as the being of love, would be shy and soft and bashful, a little reluctant to let themselves be loved, because they’re meant to simply observe and guide others who fall in love, right? They don’t think that they should be loved.”

Seokmin nodded his head resolutely, turning his gaze back to Joshua again, eyes wide and earnest.

“I would love them, though. I’d give them all the love in the entire world.”

Joshua looked at him for a long moment, and for a moment, there appeared to be a thousand stars sparkling in his irises as he gazed at Seokmin, before he blinked and the stars were gone. “I think the Venus would be endlessly grateful to be loved by you.”

Seokmin laughed. “I’d be endlessly grateful to be loved by that Venus too, you know.” He pouted a little. “I wanna be treated gently like that. I’m a mess, though. I’m too noisy to be loved like that.”

“No you’re not,” Joshua said softly. “Your heart is the softest and most precious thing ever.” Then abruptly, he leaned over, taking Seokmin’s frozen hands in his own, tucking one into his coat pocket and the other kept interlaced with his own fingers. When Seokmin blinked at him, he just shrugged. “You called me Aphrodite, didn’t you? I’ll treat you gently, Seokmin. I’ll be your Aphrodite until you meet your Venus.”

Seokmin leaned his head against Joshua’s shoulder, melting into him with a laugh. “Aphrodite and Venus are basically the same thing, hyung.”

“Are they?” Joshua hummed. “Well.”

And then he didn’t say anything after that.

Seokmin waited, seeing if Joshua would elaborate, but when he didn’t he simply snuggled further into the elder’s side, making sure not to jostle the guitar on Joshua’s lap. He was always so, so warm. Seokmin thought it was kind of unfair. His own hands became so cold so, so quickly.

But then again, now that the weather had gotten colder during the nights, Joshua had always been quick to hold Seokmin’s hands and warm up his frozen fingers. It was sweet.

Joshua was sweet.

Instantly, Seokmin’s eyebrows shot up as he found the perfect word to describe Joshua. He was sweet: not just nice, not just kind, but sweet. He was always so, so lovely and sweet with everyone he met, and especially with Seokmin, and it made him feel all fuzzy and warm.

It would be so, so easy to fall in love with someone like Joshua. 

Seokmin paused, eyes wide. He glanced up at Joshua before averting his gaze forward once more, trying to pretend like he wasn't having a crisis while the elder stared out at the river contentedly. 

But he couldn't help his eyes wandering back up to Joshua once more, the thought that he'd just had ringing around in his head. 

It would be so easy to fall in love with someone like Joshua. 

Seokmin's stomach dropped. 

Shit. 

taglist (send ask to be added): @fairyhaos @my-moarmy-heart @weird-life-of-a-closet-fangirl @lilsafsafbooyah @stqrrgirle @bittersweet-folder @weird-bookworm @ultrara-re @tianakings @bangantokchy @tiinkerbell @ahuiahoe @leigh-darling

[lil-door-knob]

The Flower Prince: Hotel Stay

Prompt- At first, he felt prideful of the praise his teammate [Sakura] was getting from the Prince. But the moment he saw the blush on her face and the arm around her waist, pride was no longer what he was feeling.

Word count: 1,502 words

Estimated Read Time: 6 minutes

Warnings: Not edited, sorry sorry.

Previous Part

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“How many beds sir?” the receptionist asked a slight blush coming to her cheeks as she stared into Kakashi's only visible eye.  

“Two, could we also get a futon or two?”

“Of course,” she answered almost too quickly. “Alright, your room will be 305. I’ll be up shortly with the futons.” Grabbing two keys from the hooks behind her, she handed them over to Kakashi. Naruto’s grin widened as he saw the receptionist's face at the slight contact of his sensei’s gloved hand.

“Thank you.” he gave a quick bow before walking off in the direction of the room.

“Ne, Kakashi?”

“Yes Naruto?”

“Don’t you think she was pretty, the receptionist?”

“She wasn’t ugly.” Kakashi shrugged. “Why?”

“She was totally into you!” Naruto exclaimed looking at his sensei.

“That’s what you call being nice-”

“Naruto’s right.” Sakura piped up. “Did you not see the way she blushed or the eyes she gave you when we walked in sensei?”

“You’re both reading into it too much.” Kakashi groaned.

“For someone who strictly reads romance novels, I’m surprised you’re so blind to obvious flirting.” the kunoichi spat back.

“Sakura.” Kakashi stopped in front of the door to room 305, “Naruto. She was just being nice, it’s her job.”

“Too nice,” Sasuke added.

Giving a stern glare to his genin, he opened the door to the room and walked in. “Kakashi-sir, for what it’s worth, I agree with your team. She was flirting with you.” Daiki teased as he entered the room behind the genin. Rubbing his temples, the jounin closed the door and sighed.

“I call dibs on the bed!” Naruto flung himself onto the bed closest to the wall away from the door. He sprawled out and rolled around in the bed before Sakura dragged him off.

“Naruto! Let Daiki-san choose first.”

“No Sakura-chan, that’s alright. I’ll sleep on the futon.” Daiki insisted but was instantly shut down by Sakura who insisted. “Ah- you’re all too kind I guess I’ll-” a knock came on the door.

“Um, here are your futons sir.” the receptionist from earlier bowed.

“Thank you.” he reached out to grab them but the woman took a step back.

“Allow me to set it up for you and the kids.” before he could respond, the woman gently pushed her way past him and entered the room. Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, and Daiki sat on a bed as they watched the scene before them- a mischievous aura around them. Kakashi gave them a stern look warning them to behave. “They sure are cute, uh- Hatake, was it?”

“His name is Hatake Kakashi!” Naruto called. “And I’m Uz- Hatake Naruto! We’re his adopted kids.” the jinchuriki smiled brightly at the woman. She gave him a sweet smile in return.

“I’m glad to hear that! Kakashi sounds like quite a good man.” she then turned to face Kakashi. “My name is Tanaka Kiyomi, it’s a pleasure to meet you Kakashi-san.”

“Likewise,” Kakashi responded as he secretly cursed under his breath. “You can give me the futons, I can do it myself. No need to worry, Kiyomi.” Once again ignored, Kiyomi placed them on the floor and started to lay them out.

“Don't be rude, help Kiyomi-chan,” Sasuke said in a mocking tone, a smirk starting to form.

“Yeah, don’t let the pretty lady do it by herself!” Daiki added. All four pre-teens stared at him expectantly.

Mortified Kakashi made eye contact with Kiyomi and nodded, “They’re right. Let me help.” he crouched down next to the flustered woman. After laying out the two futons Kakashi sighed, his embarrassment would finally be over. Extending a hand to help her up, he opened the door for her to leave, trying his best to not seem rude. Though, before she stepped out she spoke softly.

“You know…” she looked up at Kakashi, “I find it sweet that you adopted those kids. If anything it only adds to your appeal. A family man...  I’d like to meet with you sometime. L-like as a date.” her face was no longer visible to him but he could only imagine she was blushing- if she hadn’t already done enough of that. For the first time, Kakashi didn’t know how to react, it wasn’t anything new for him to get hit on or asked out (come at me, I swear this is canon), but this had never happened in front of his team, let alone on a mission. “I understand that you’re a ninja and probably don’t have time to date, but I’d appreciate it.

“I have to get back to work now Kakashi-san, I’ll await your response.” she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and quickly ran off. As soon as the door shut behind her, laughter erupted from Naruto, Sakura, and Daiki. Even Sasuke allowed himself to smile.

“See, we told you she liked you!” Naruto stated as he rolled off the bed and pointed at Kakashi.

“Naruto, you’re sleeping on the futon,” Kakashi stated firmly.

“What- why?!” Naruto rose to his feet, “I already called dibs on this bed!” he whined as he pointed to the bed where he was previously seated.

“Sasuke, you will share a bed with me. Daiki, you get a bed to yourself, and Sakura, you're also sleeping on a futon.”

Sakura heaved a heavy sigh, “Yes sensei. But can I at least move my futon? It’s too close to Naruto’s and he moves around a lot. “ Kakashi gave her a nod before heading to the bathroom.

With the sleeping arrangements made, Team 7 and Daiki got ready for bed.

Once Kakashi came out of the bathroom Sakura immediately ran in to take a warm shower to get rid of the thin layer of sweat that had laced her skin- it was a hot day. Naruto groaned as he heard the water from the shower start, he knew his teammates well, and although he loved Sakura, he couldn’t deny her flaws. She took forever in the bathroom.

Anytime they would go on a mission and they stayed at a hotel or motel, she always headed for the bathroom first. For at least thirty minutes Sakura would stay in said bathroom. Once she would exit a weird smell of a weird berry and a flower mix could be left behind, it was something Naruto just couldn’t quite describe. The closest word he could use was ‘girly’. Although not horrible, he always hated it when he had to use the bathroom or was hungry as it made him feel nauseous. And today was one of those days. 

He was steadily growing impatient.

Naruto’s night routine was quite simple really, he would go to the bathroom and relieve himself, eat some last-minute ramen, and then he would lie down and be out like a light just as quickly. This routine has stayed true his entire life, even on missions where they would sleep in the forest. Which was why he and Sakura butted heads at night. Today was no exception to that ‘rule’.  Every two minutes or so Naruto would bang on the bathroom door and ask if she was almost finished, of course only met by the girl's silence or exaggerated humming.

Sasuke and Kakashi are similar in that they didn’t have a night routine, they would simply just do what they needed or wanted to do before they got tired, and would then merely sleep.

“Nauto, stop banging on the door.” Sasuke ordered the blonde jinchuriki after Naruto had spent the last minute banging on the door non-stop asking ‘Are you done yet?’

“Shut up Sasuke-teme! I really have to go, dattebayo!!” Sasuke just rolled his eyes and averted his attention back to the kunai he was sharpening in his hands.

“There’s a bathroom on the main floor, Naruto-san we passed it on the way here. You could just go and use that one.” Daiki added, smiling at the boy.

“I don’t want to go down there!” Naruto’s eyes widened, “What if there’s some creepy man in the urinal next to me?!” he exasperated, flailing his arms. “I’m not going there alone, so one of you is coming with me.” He huffed with arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that so?” Daiki sweat dropped. Looking around the room he noticed that the two other ninjas had simply tuned out Naruto’s complaints. He heaved a heavy sigh as he realized he was the only one who was willing to go with him. “I’ll go with you Naruto-san. Just make it quick.” out of habit the prince bowed to Naruto and left the room with him. Wasn’t he supposed to be escorting me, Daiki thought as they made their way to the communal bathrooms.

After twenty minutes of being in the bathroom, Sakura walked out in her usual attire. “Sasuke-kun, you can use the bathroom now if you have to.” Sasuke nodded and placed his kunai on the nightstand before entering the bathroom which now smelled of Sakura’s many bath products, but he didn’t mind.

-

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- 

Next Part

[lion-of-liberation]

I need to expose my thoughts. I talk and express a lot and yet there’s endlessly more under the surface always. It’s never-ending. I doubt there’s a single person that can handle the endlessness of it all. Some of its mundane, some is significant, some is deeply emotional, but they’re all intertwined and I can’t tell if that’s just what is or if I created it myself. I’m not sure if that even matters either because at this point it’s all real enough that I feel the need to purge it from my brain. I’ll start with some straight forward stuff: what I have self-diagnosed myself with and done nothing about.

It’s honestly embarrassing to think about self-diagnosing myself but… I know me best and I see how different I act in front of any human. It’s almost like I’m never there. Sometimes I am and I love it. But I don’t know why it’s hard to be there. And afterward I regret it and begin thinking about non existence. I’ve challenged myself to type out every natural thought as it comes. I’m not a fan but I need this out. I feel pretty qualified to self-diagnose as I work in the mental health field but do to the nature of what I believe I got going on, I haven’t done anything about this to go find out from an outside source.

This also embarrassing because I feel it’s common. But I hear others using stereotypes and basic examples as justification for their self-diagnosis. I’ve spent years on this. It was 5 years before I said anything to a friend out loud. Anyways… I believe I have ADHD. Stemming from that I’ve developed a propensity for anxiety, depression and imposter syndrome.

Currently, imposter syndrome and depression seem to be taking over. Anxiety used to be a bugger issue, leading to panic attacks and very literally running away. I’m in massage therapy school right now so I feel I’ve learned how to manage anxiety better naturally through this experience.

Depression - my motivation to do anything, including eat or shower has been dwindling for months. It gets better and then gets worse. I know that’s the nature of things but I just want be able to eat at least. I don’t know why something so simple is so difficult for me. Everyone seems to see me as an intelligent and thoughtful person and it just feels like they don’t know me at all. That’s the imposter syndrome right there.

I feel like my brain is full of all these things I want to be and do and I do none of it and my self appreciation just goes down every day. The thoughts of falling into a coma or disappearing have been more and more frequent and starting earlier and earlier in the day.

I feel stuck in some void, but it’s surrounded by mirrors so only I can see me and everyone else sees…something else.

I felt called to type all this out today because something significant yet insignificant happed as soon as I woke up. Someone had deleted me as a friend on Snapchat. I’d never known them in real life. We’d been in each others social media for a few years now. I thought of them as strange and cool, and potentially someone who’d be a friend. It seemed like we were on the same wavelength for a lot of things. He’s even said that once as well. I think people say things heartwarming often thoughtlessly and I’m always the person who takes it seriously and cherishes it. It’s why I hate hearing “I love you.” Anyways I was filled with thoughts that this man could be part of my soul family - a friend I’m meant to have in this life because so many of our interests and ways of being overlapped. I responded to his story yesterday… I guess he hated my response. Maybe something about it revealed to him an aspect of myself he found annoying enough to delete me after 3 years.

I didn’t think I’d be so hurt. But I cried really hard and I’m still crying now. Partly I had a small crush as I often do strictly with males very far from me, but honestly I was holding out hope I’d meet him and gain a new kind of friend. Now that fantasy is demolished and I’m devastated. There’s something good out of this I know. The universe might be pushing distractions out of my way. I’m too good at finding them. Maybe he felt how hard I was hoping he’d be my friend in real life. It all sounds pathetic. I feel starved for deep human connection yet when I make friends I’m so….awkward and feel I have to hide how much I like them. I don’t even like people often. I just don’t know what to do with myself. I’d rather disappear.

I think I’ll procrastinate on talking about what I feel is ADHD in behavior. Specifically the imposter syndrome is what I feel the most. I feel like a joke and disappointment and I’m not sure how I’ll ever change or how to fulfill myself.

[dolliedarlin]

tokyo revengers | shinichiro ⏤ 22:52

not proofread ; please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes made ; mechanic shinichiro x florist reader ; inspired by lola bunny x bugs bunny moment in space jam (loved that movie as a kid!)

shinichiro’s first impression on you could have gone better, that’s for sure, but in all fairness, he didn’t expect you at all. you with your radiant smile, dazzling eyes and alluring voice greeting him as he walks past on what he thought was a regular day heading into his shop. with a sudden weakness knocked into his knees by your beauty, the tools and spare parts piled up in his arms didn’t stand a chance and fell to the floor with him.

the disheveled man didn’t even get the chance to be embarrassed as he was immediately entranced by you once again, who rushed to his aide and helped him pick up all that he had dropped. it wasn’t fair; how could you be so pretty? were those stars in your eyes? and why do your lips look like candy? does he smell flowers?

“a-are you okay, sir?”

“m-me?” shinichiro snaps back into reality from the panic in your voice, meeting your eyes, you nod frantically, worry swimming in your (e/c) pools, “i-i’m great! why’d ya ask?”

“well you just fell over all of a sudden when i greeted you earlier…”

“oh!” the embarrassment finally sets in, “th-that, right…umm - i guess i just got distracted by something…” his voice trails off as he finishes the explanation to his clumsiness, getting lost in your ethereal presence once again.

“what did you see?” you asked, looking around in curiosity and sending the mechanic into derangement. he can’t say that you distracted him, he’ll sound like a creep! he joins you in looking around, frantically searching for an excuse.

“th-those flowers!” he points towards a pretty bouquet being displayed at the new shop’s window, “they’re really beautiful!”

“you think so?” you ask with a new glint of excitement in your eyes, which has the dark haired man nodding along almost excessively, his grin attempting to stretch out to his ears, “thank you so much, i arranged those myself,” you suddenly look bashful as your gaze turns down to look at your fidgeting hands. so cute…so cute! shinichiro mentally gushes, his pupils almost turning heart-shaped to accommodate his lovestruck fever for you.

“wait, you’re the new shop here?!”

“that’s right,” you chirp happily, excusing the misleading shock in his tone. did he not want you here?

“oh no…” shinichiro mutters under his breath. how could he possibly concentrate on his work if there was such a beautiful lady, who’s kind and bewitching and exactly his type right across the street?

“what do you mean by that?” you pout, anger evident in your voice as your brows furrow at him.

“what?”

“why do you sound like you don’t want me here?”

“uhhh…” the man in question begins to sweat nervously. how could he answer you this time?

thankfully that misunderstanding was quickly resolved with a sincere apology and a box of a dozen cupcakes decorated to look like flowers.

“i’m really sorry (l/n)-san, i didn’t intend to come across as unhappy about you being the owner of the new shop across from me,”

your forgiving nature makes you cave and accept his apology without any further explanation, you didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot so you happily shared the cupcakes with him too and went about business as if nothing happened.

most mornings where you went to open up your shop, you would often encounter shinichiro and the two of you made it a ritual to wave and greet each other good morning from across the street, it wasn’t deliberate for shinichiro to also make it a morning ritual to walk into his shop’s front door whilst greeting you but now you carry a small first aid kit wherever you go just so you could offer him some bandages for any cuts and scrapes he may gain from being around you.

it wouldn’t be a lie to say that it was because you wanted to be helpful to such a sweet guy but that was only the partial truth. the other reason being entirely selfish of you. there was something about the kind but awkward mechanic. he had a charm of his own that rivaled all previous men (and women) that tried to pursue you romantically. despite your relationship with shinichiro being entirely that of neighboring shop owners, it occurred to you that his sincerity came through much more than those that came before him trying to gain your affections. the entire situation was quite laughable really; shinichiro never approached you with any amourous gestures, instead he never failed to greet you a good morning, he helped shoulder your concerns and worries as a new shop owner, he kept you company when you were lonely and helped with your growing business by making deliveries for you at no extra charge.

“i just want to help you,” was his reason, “it like helping you (l/n)-san,” you remember the soothing smile he flashed you which had you clutching at your chest. To think that such a goof could affect you like no one else…

he made you happy.

“thank you for keeping me company sano-san,” it was his lunch break and he was eating away at his store-bought onigiri at your counter. he sometimes had the best timing because now you felt safer knowing someone was around while you were putting up hanging flora on an unreliable, tottering stepladder.

“it’s no trouble, really, i enjoy being around you the most, (l/n)-san,” even though you weren’t in the safest position, you snuck a glance back at him just to see his face turned away with the wobbly smile as the tips of his ears glowed an adorable pink. he’s always so adorable, you giggle to yourself quietly, not expecting him to notice but smirk, regardless when he unexpectedly does, “is something on your mind, (l/n)-san?”

“fufu~ it’s nothing sano-san,” stepping down from your final hanging plant, you tuck away your step stool and dust your hands down on your work apron partially stained with the chlorophyll and pollen from surrounding plants.

“the place looks so forest-y! it’s amazing!” shinichiro gushes, admiring your handy work. to think that your beautiful, soft hands could create something equally as beautiful but it’s to be expected from someone as perfect as you.

“thank you so much, sano-san,” you smile brightly at the man, hoping that your customers ring with the same sentiment. it was then when it happened…

just as you step forward, shinichiro spots an teetering plant pot beginning to loosen from its hanging perch above you. even though shinichiro wasn’t as tough as his gang member friends, he was tougher in his mental strength as well as within his heart, both pushed him to act when he needed to most and now was one of those times. launching himself forward with a shout of your name, shinichiro manages to push you away from the falling plant only to be the one that was injured in your place.

“sano-san!” you cry out as you rush to the fallen man, the scene nostalgic and reminiscent of your first meeting, almost giving you butterflies if it weren’t for the panic rapidly spreading through your chest. Checking him over, he seems to have endured bruising and cuts along his upper back and shoulders only. It was a relief but you weren’t out of the woods yet, leading the mechanic to your back room, you rush around for your first aid kit and get to work.

no words were spoken but it was comfortable. Shinichiro admired your rare beauty up close, finding your look of focused attention in tending to his injuries, captivating. He was shirtless but neither of you felt embarrassed of the fact, you too attentive to his well-being and him too distracted by your pretty lips, pretty eyes, pretty nose and pretty hair…pretty everything really. he could get used to such vip treatment, maybe he should injure himself more often. his thoughts almost make him laugh.

“don’t look to worried, i’m okay now thanks to you (l/n)-san,” shinichiro reassures, anything to keep your furrowed brows from making another appearance. you’re cute when you worry but if he sees it too often on you, he’ll surely become greedy for it and who knows what he’ll do then!

“are you sure you’re okay?” no matter how cute he looked bandaged up and grinning boyishly up at you, you needed to stay focused and make sure his well-being is taken care of first.

“positive, are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft and sweet, as sincere as his kind eyes. maybe it was time to give in…you can’t win against such a dangerous man.

you sigh in relieved defeat and smile at him, your eyes half lidded in want that shinichiro barely has time to catch onto, “sano-san, thank you~” you voice with an additional sugary essence that has the man’s heart racing in his ears at a higher frequency. this is the first time shinichiro has ever heard such a voice coming from you and he doesn’t know how to process it. he was conflicted on whether he should be reacting so feverishly to you or not. how embarrassing! not again! he swears that you know what you’re doing to him and it’s just unfair…

“it was nothing,” he gulps, steadying his heart and breathing to smile up at you from his seated position, “i just didn’t want you to get hurt,”

“that was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me~” without warning, you take him by his cheek and pull him into a deep kiss, your eyes shut closed in bliss whilst shinichiro’s eyes remain wide open. his mind took a moment to try and process the situation but eventually gave up in favour of returning the kiss. he’s imagined getting to kiss you multiple times and speculated on how it would feel, how your lips would feel and taste, now that he was finally pulling you close and getting to kiss you back, all of his daydreams were out the window, they can’t even begin to compare to how puffy-soft your lips were nor their uniquely addictive taste. all shinichiro knows is that this must be what being in heaven is like.

pulling away to catch your breath, you call out to the dazed mechanic but receive no reply in return. you’re only met with a dreamy sigh before shinichiro begins falling to the side and eventually…faints.

“sano-san!”

thoughts? ; did you dolls watch that movie too? ; if you could title this mini fic, what would you title it?

navi.

[earlgreydream]

brat.

| Bucky Barnes x reader | smut |

warnings: smut, mild degradation (not meant seriously), spanking, dom/sub dynamic, general chaos

a/n: I can’t deal with the pressure of my life, I need James Buchanan Barnes to make me let it go

Bucky had been agitated since you had sent him naughty photos of yourself while he was in the middle of a meeting. He had glanced at his phone and immediately turned it face down and continued speaking. After the meeting, he sat at his desk, looking at the photos you’d sent. His favorite was one where you had your tits out, wearing just little black panties, along with a black ribbon tied around your neck.

He’d originally been the one to tie the ribbon around your neck, about a year ago. He’d hooked his fingers in the satin and dragged you forward like it was a collar, making you blush and shy.

Now, you wore the ribbon around your neck whenever you were in the particular mood for Bucky to make you feel owned.

You were always under constant stress and pressure to perform well, having to control and manage everything, both at work and school. The only place where you could let it go, relinquish all control, was in the bedroom with Bucky... or on the kitchen counters, the bathroom of a club, his desk at work, and anywhere else he could get his hands on you.

When you were alone with Bucky, you became playful, soft, and sweet, and it turned him on to no end. Bucky truly thought you were the most gorgeous and hottest girl in the universe, and he practically worshipped you.

That is, except when you were being a needy brat, like today. Sending him naughty photos at work (unprompted) was strictly against your rules, and you knew you played a dangerous game with him. Bucky wasn’t one to play around when it came to testing the boundaries.

Secretly, that was why you did it. You wanted Bucky riled up, to come home and be rough with you. You wanted him hard and unrelenting, to have you screaming and writhing for him. You were tense from your stressful week, and he was too, and there was no better solution in your mind to release that built up tension.

He shut off his phone as his boss walked in, asking him about a project, and Bucky struggled to focus on what he was being told, too distracted by the image of your soft tits swirling in his mind.

“Thanks, Barnes.”

“Yeah, sure.” He called back half-heartedly, picking his phone back up once he was alone.

~you’re going to fucking regret that, baby~

~I doubt it. X~

He was practically seething at your response, ideas of how to get you in line already forming. He was fed up with your bratty attitude, and his annoyance just built over the course of the afternoon.

When he was finally finished with work, he drove home faster than normal. The door smacked loudly against the wall when he entered, alerting you he was mad. Your heart jumped in your chest, and you felt a pang of regret at your insolence.

“Y/N!” Bucky’s voice echoed, and you nervously walked down the hallway in one of his oversized button downs.

He stopped for a moment, taking in the sight of you. You looked small and meek, innocent in his big shirt. Ribbon was tied around the base of your neck, and your eyes were shining as you gazed up at him.

“Hi, daddy”

He almost melted at the sweet sound of your voice, at the utter innocence you seemed to hold. He dropped his keys in the dish by the door, snapping out of it. He stared at you with a hard gaze, entirely unamused by your earlier behavior. You sank into yourself, taking a step back. He stepped forward, and you continued until he had backed you against the wall outside of your guest bedroom at the end of the hall.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Bucky asked you, waiting for an apology.

I’m sorry daddy, is what you should have said, attempting to win over the last bit of forgiveness he was willing to give you. Instead, you decided to dig yourself into deeper trouble, unable to resist the temptation to goad him by being a brat.

“I could’ve gotten myself off in the time it took you to get home, maybe even more than-” you didn’t even get to finish your sentence before he was on you.

He hooked his fingers into the ribbon, jerking your small body against his. His silver eyes blazed, threatening you to struggle.

“Do you think you’re fucking funny?” He growled, and you stared back at him, suppressing your fear.

“A little, actually.”

That did it.

“Get on your fucking knees, you insolent brat!” He snapped, jerking you downwards so you were kneeling in front of him.

Your knees bit into the hardwood floor, and the ribbon left a faint red ring around your neck from him dragging you by it. His hand went up your neck to your cheek, and you flinched as he sharply tapped your face. It wasn’t enough to be a slap, Bucky would never hit you in a way you didn’t like, but the sharp smack made arousal drip from your core.

You wanted him to run his fingers through your hair to guide you, like he did when he was feeling softer, but you knew that you’d pushed him too far to receive any sort of help.

He grabbed your jaw and forced your mouth open before burying himself in your throat. He did it in one quick movement that had you gagging, choking on his length. Bucky didn’t care about your fight to breathe, snapping his hips at a brutal pace, stretching your throat. You did your best to open for him, but tears slid down your cheeks from your lack of oxygen.

“Y/N, look at you, letting me fuck your throat like a little whore.” His words dripped with condescension and you looked up at him with glassy eyes.

You moaned around him, sending vibrations that pushed him closer to the edge.

“You’re going to swallow, got it?” He ordered and you made a noise of approval, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. He came in thick spurts, his cock deep in your throat. You swallowed his seed as well as possible, gasping as he pulled out of you. You lost your balance and put a hand on his thigh to steady you. He stepped back, letting you fall forward, barely catching yourself.

You whined in protest, and he grabbed you by the hair and jerked your head back to look up at him. Your chest was heaving as you drew in oxygen, your face was sticky with tears, and your mouth was salty with his taste.

"You look so pretty on your knees for me," Bucky's tone was mocking, a slight Russian accent hanging off his words, a silent threat hanging in the air.

"I did so good, sucking you off like you wanted-" you were about to ask if he'd take care of you now, and he just let out a short laugh.

"You think you're getting off?" He spoke as if it were completely ridiculous.

"Yes?" You tried, and he shook his head.

"Then you shouldn't have been such a little brat. Brats don't get to come."

"But daddy-!" You whined in protest.

Your mouth snapped shut when he dragged you up to your feet and tore his button down off of you. You shivered in the cold air, and his fingers hooked into your panties, pulling them down your legs.

"You're fucking soaked, Y/N. Is this just from sucking me off?" He embarrassed you.

"Y/N!" He snapped when you didn't answer, fed up with your disobedience.

"Yes," you breathed, blinking back fresh tears of anxiety.

"I'll give you something to cry about." He threatened and you bit your lip, knowing it wasn't an empty threat.

"Safeword?" he asked, making sure you were able to communicate with him if it was too much.

"Falcon," you answered obediently and he nodded. He took your wrists in his hands, noticing the way your hands were trembling. He kissed your smooth skin, though his gaze didn't soften.

"On the bed. Now." He pointed, and you bent over the edge of the bed, your ass on display for him. You hid your face in your arms, hiding the embarrassment visible on your cheeks from being so exposed.

A shaky whine escaped as you heard his belt snap, fear prickling up your spine. He watched you squirm on the bed. He knew you hated being smacked with the belt, and he leaned against the wall, watching you nearly lose your mind in anticipation. He was curious to see if you'd continue the bratty behavior, or if this was what would finally cause you to break, and his fingers twitched as he ached to turn your ass pink.

As soon as the tension began to leave your body, and you settled on the mattress, he landed the first blow with the leather on your ass. You screamed both from shock, and the welcome pain that blossomed across your skin.

His dark laughter echoed in your guest bedroom, and chills made your body shudder. You were getting what you wanted, this had been your goal from the beginning. You also knew that you were completely safe, that Bucky loved you dearly, and this was just a bedroom scene, not meant to truly hurt you. Despite both of those facts, the fear was very much real. Bucky was incredibly intimidating, especially when he was mad.

"Four more, alright?"

"Yes, daddy."

Dry sobs burned your throat as he spanked you quickly, leaving pink stripes across your fair skin, but light enough they'd disappear by morning. It was more psychological than physical, and it was causing you to nearly shake with arousal. It was dripping down your legs, and Bucky noticed, adding to the shame of just being spanked. He took a step toward you, squeezing your ass in his large hands, making you whimper in discomfort. He slapped your skin, and you struggled to contain your pained yelps. It wasn’t near as bad as the belt, but the sting spread through your skin as he continued your punishment. 

You sighed in relief when he finally finished, wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling you up so your back was against his chest. He gave your throat a squeeze, making your eyes roll back. He kissed your shoulder before biting down into your smooth skin. You squirmed in his grip, mewling softly. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, looking up and meeting his gaze. 

“I know you are, baby,” He kissed your mouth for the first time, and you melted into his hold, ignoring your soreness. 

“Hands and knees for me, doll.” 

He released his grip on you, lightly tapping your thigh to get you to climb up on the bed. You moved onto the bed, but your arms were unsteady, so you dropped down to your elbows, letting your back arch.

“Can’t hold myself up,” you murmured apologetically, not wanting him to think that you were being bratty. He kissed your bum, and you sighed quietly at the tender action. 

“I want to come, daddy,” you begged, hoping he had softened.

“I’m sure you do.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing that you weren’t going to get what you want. Bucky’s hands wrapped around your hips, holding you steady as he stood behind you. You squirmed as he rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, a choked noise leaving your throat as he brushed your clit. You were on edge, but you knew if you spilled over, he would spank you until you were bleeding.

He noticed the shudder it caused, and his voice came deep and threatening. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“I won’t!” you promised, wanting to be good for him. 

“Better not.” 

He thrusted forward, rolling his hips until he was buried all the way in you, making you yell and grip the sheets in front of you. The stretch burned, your body never quite getting used to his size. Usually he eased into you, but he clearly didn’t care about your pleasure right now. 

He began to snap his hips against yours, using your body to chase his own release. His hands slipped off of your hips and snaked around to your front, going up to your breasts. He squeezed roughly and pinched your nipples, pulling them between his fingers, making your vision spark. You shrieked at the sensation, and you tightened around him. You held back your orgasm, fighting against the urge to release. 

“Your cunt feels so good around me, doll. If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m going to lose my mind,” Bucky murmured, his words getting lost in your mind.

You tightened around him purposely, feeling him twitch before painting your insides with his release. He groaned deeply, continuing with shallow thrusts as he emptied himself into your heat. When he pulled out, he stared at your swollen sex, his release dripping out, and down your thighs. You screamed as he slapped the sensitive area, arching your back. You whimpered out a beg to ease up on you, and he moved you to lay on your back. You were barely there, whimpering out apologies pathetically, and he kissed a line from your belly up to your lips.

“You’re forgiven, doll.” He said, kissing you sweetly.

“Please, I’ll be so good.” You were desperate, throbbing around nothing, and you wanted to release the tension your body held so bad.

Bucky watched you beg, almost inclined to put his head back between your legs.

“Fine.” He sat on the bed, pulling you to straddle his thigh. You looked at him in confusion as he held your hips down.

“You can ride my thigh and get off that way, or you can quit complaining.”

Your eyes widened, and your face burned in humiliation. You hesitated for a moment before giving into your needs, rolling your hips and dragging your core over his thigh. You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face in his shoulder as he quietly mocked you and how desperate you were. Your thighs started to shake, and he bounced his leg, making you come with a scream as you bit down lightly on his shoulder. 

“Daddy, no,” you complained as his hand snaked down to pinch your clit, sending shocks through you.

“Watch your mouth.” He ordered, grabbing your jaw in his free hand, disapproving of your protests. He overstimulated you, turning your pleasure into torture. You struggled to catch your breath as you writhed on his lap, begging him to let you ease up. You swore at him, and he smacked your already stinging core. You yelped at the pain, letting him have his way, too exhausted to protest further. 

You could’ve cried again as he finally eased up, deciding you had adequately paid for your misbehavior. After, he spent the entire evening showering you with attention, showing his soft side and loving on you.

[vicious-vixxxen]

SugarDaddy!Enji X SugarBaby!Male Reader <3

Not entirely sure where this came from, but couldn’t help myself once it started :3 nothing crazy, and kinda short, so apologies for that, but I hope you guys enjoy it! Prompt fills should be out later this month: In the midst of a move, so slow going getting fills, out, but hopefully soon <3 thanks for the patience, and the continued support. Much love to you guys! Enjoy :3  Sugar Daddy!Enji x Sugar Baby!Male Reader

 (Sort of, kind of, it is but also not entirely the focus)

“What would you do without me, dad,” Fuyumi sighed, though her smile was palpable, even if Enji couldn’t see it- as she’d stepped behind him to lint roll his dinner jacket. Enji adjusting his watch, and catching the time, puffing his chest up a bit as he shooed his daughter back, and glanced at himself in the full length mirror once more, briefly. Enji would lie down and accept the sweet, bitter kiss from the grim reaper, before he ever told his daughter just where he’d found his date from. But, and as hard as it was to so much as admit it, Enji did know when to wave the white flag of defeat, and after three hours of trying to pick his own outfit, he’d shuffled off to her room and mumbled the bare minimum about having a date from an app tonight. Fuyumi had freaked out for all of ten minutes, before growing startlingly serious, and rifling through his closet for articles of clothing Enji had no idea were even there. And now...well, he looked more presentable than he had in ages. Granted, his wardrobe consisted of his hero suit ninety nine percent of the time, but still. Bidding Fuyumi goodbye was a whole other ordeal, but soon enough, Enji found himself- or rather, his driver, pulling up along the curb of the restaurant he’d asked you to. Not even a moment to gather himself, or suck in a few lungful's of crisp evening air, before his eyes landed on you. Your dazzling smile so bright, Enji had to keep himself from squinting, as you hurried over, and without so much as a hello first, threw your arms over the hero’s broad shoulders, and brought him down into a tight, warm hug. Enji squeezed back awkwardly, though your cologne was mouthwatering, and the feel of someone wanting to be in his arms almost made the older man dizzy, as he pulled back, and smoothed out the front of his jacket. Just to busy his hands, as you eyed him up, and your smile grew softer. More intimate. “It’s so nice to meet, finally. In person.” You laughed, gesturing for Enji to follow you to the front door, as there was already a man waiting to escort you back to your table. Well, Enji thought. Here goes nothing. 

“You’re nervous,” you pointed out quietly- gently, reaching across the table to lay one of your hands over Enji’s much larger one: meeting the older man's gaze as he stopped jiggling his leg, and focused his full attention on you. “Observant,” Enji huffed, though not unkindly, as he took a deep breath, and reached up with his free hand to tug at the neck of his sweater. Cheeks flush, both from the heat within himself, and his nerves. You were much more...handsome? Pretty? Drop dead gorgeous?- than your profile pictures had given you credit for, and even then you were one of the most beautiful specimens he’d ever laid his eyes on, so that was really saying something. “I try to be,” you laughed, bringing your other hand around to sip at your champagne, before laying your glass-chilled hand over the other covering Enji’s, to clasp them on either side- just holding his hand, and smiling. Awkwardness creeping back up Enji’s neck as his throat worked around the words he couldn’t quite find. “I could talk, if you’d like? And you can interject whenever you’d like. No pressure to, if you’re not ready. I could probably talk enough for the both of us.” You we’re trying to cut the man some slack, bless his big confused heart. Your online chats hadn’t divulged much, though you did get the gist from Enji. Bad relationship with his children. Not too close to anyone of his own age. He was lonely. And so were you. You were also broke as fuck, but all thoughts of monetary value flew out the window the second you hugged the man when you’d arrived. Seen the restaurant he’d asked you to; and the private balcony dinner he’d arranged. Enji was trying so hard, and it made your heart beat a little too fast. Your smile almost too bright.  “That...would be preferable, thank you,” Enji replied gruffly- though he cleared his throat after like he’d done it by accident. It only made you smile wider “Of course. A very considerate daddy you are,” you teased, referencing the website you met on jokingly- or at least, half jokingly- though the way Enji’s blush deepened had you stuttering around your first few sentences- glancing down suddenly as Enji turned his hand palm upward- holding your hands in return, as you laughed, suddenly, and began speaking smoothly. Squeezing the man’s hands in silent thanks, as he listened intently to you rambling on about your life. Where you went to school, what instrument you played, your favorite movies, and books. He really /listened/, grunting every so often to show you he was- and even interjecting with questions every so often; Enji really wanted to know about you. He wanted to listen. You’d never quite had anyone like that before. Not even close friends who cared enough to really listen to you. Your chest felt tight suddenly as you began touching on your most recent life happenings. Pausing slowly, voice getting quiet as you held Enji’s gaze, you lifted the older man’s hand to press a kiss to his palm. Snickering into it as Enji’s flames burst across his face at the contact. “Ah-Ahem. What uh...what’s that for?” He questioned, voice husky as he turned away slightly. Embarrassed at his flames for the first time since he was a pre-teen. “Just thanks, for listening,” you admitted with a shrug, kissing his palm again, even softer this time. Enji turned then, pure honesty in his gaze as he gathered his courage to speak clearly, “I could listen to you speak...for hours, if I’m being honest. You have..a lovely voice.” “Ah,” You nodded, your cheeks just as flushed as the hero’s as you swirled your champagne in its glass gently. Missing completely the way Enji’s face fell, and he withdrew his hands from atop the table, and back into his lap. The rest of the night went pretty much the same, though you noticed Enji seemed slightly more reserved, and gruff than before. Still just as attentive, still nearly mute, just more...withdrawn. Less open then he’d become as you spoke. It wasn’t until the date had come to an end, and he was escorting you out of the restaurant, and to the car he’d called to take you home, did you realize why. “Here you go.” Enji spoke quietly, yet clearly, crowding you in slightly so the valet couldn’t see the wad of cash he was holding out to you. Crisp bills neatly folded into a money clip, engraved with Enji’s initials. “Oh.” You’d almost forgotten by this point that this was sort of part of it. Or...well, it was the whole point, really. Or had been. “That’s….quite a lot of money,” You thought aloud, frowning at the way Enji’s brows drew down tightly, and he thumped the money into your chest gently. “I apologize for the evening. Please, just take it. It’s triple the amount we originally spoke of. Compensation for the poor company I’ve been.” You froze, staring between Enji’s eyes, that wouldn’t meet your own, and the cash being held out to you, Enji’s grip so tight on it his knuckles were white. /Oh/. So that’s what he thought. Earlier in the evening, your reaction to his sincerity, he’d read into it wrong. ….Sweet old man. “Silly daddy,” You sighed, smiling despite the situation- reaching up to tug out one solitary bill from the stack, before pressing Enji’s fist back into his own chest with one hand- the other snaking up and around the man’s neck, to ease him down to your level gently. “I can’t say I’ve ever had a more wonderful time with anyone before in my whole life. You listened, and saw me. And only me. For hours. I don’t think I can properly describe how absolutely wonderful that was. Truly. Silly,” You laughed again, watching the way Enji’s shoulders hunched, and tensed, a myriad of emotions flitting across his face, before he settled on bewilderment it seemed. The tiniest flames danced across his cheeks as you leaned up on your toes, brushing noses briefly, before capturing Enji’s lips in a soft, chaste kiss. Hand carding up and into the soft hair at the nape of Enji’s neck, scraping your nails through his scalp gently as your lips began to move against one another. Unsure, and hesitant, before that quickly melted away, leaving only the deepest desire, and want. A soft, needy noise leaving your mouth, that Enji swallowed up happily. Panting into your face as he pulled away, breath a wash of champagne, and the chocolate cake you’d both had for dessert. “Tip...for your driver,” You breathed, slightly dazed as you fell back into the car, feet firmly on the ground now- tapping your pocket where you’d slid the bill from the stack he’d held out to you at first. “I...should get going. But if I don’t have a text from you with the details of our next date when I get home, i’ll be one very disappointed boy,” You admitted quietly, cupping Enji’s cheek briefly- thumb sliding across his plump bottom lip, before you opened the back door of the car, and slid in. Wishing Enji a goodnight, before the door was shut, and you were being driven off towards home. Enji checked the time briefly as you pulled away, and once more when he finally was able to get his legs working again- nearly an hour had passed, in which he’d tried and failed multiple times to collect himself. Had that really just happened? The feel of his lips twisting up into a smile felt strange, and foreign for the pro hero. And as he walked home, to allow himself a chance to breathe finally, he began to laugh. Cupping his own face, and touching his lips, an incredulous laugh bubbled from deep within him as he threw his head back and allowed it to overtake him. Smiling in a way he hadn’t in...so, so long. Pulling his phone out, he immediately began texting you, checking your schedule for the next night, before suggesting going to a play. A quiet, private balcony just for the two of you. Close seats. Beautiful music. He could watch your reactions under the bright stage lights. It sounded fantastic. A text from Fuyumi chimed into his phone as he was nearly home, and still smiling like a love struck teenager. So? How was it!?-FT Enji sighed heavily, catching himself in a nearby shop window- looking too happy to be real, and recalling your words from earlier. Wonderful.-ET It was wonderful, Fuyumi.-ET

[hangovercurse]

I’d Drop it All for You

Pictures of you and Pete are spread all over the internet, causing a whirlwind of hate to enter your social media.

Request: “Pete content please! anything !!! smut fluff whatever”

Pete x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, depictions of depression and anxiety

A/N: *Insert normal spiel about respecting A.G. and only using her for plot purposes. No harm intended.* Also I wrote most of this after a meeting with my therapist so... enjoy :) (He’s so cute in this gif I wanna kiss his face)

Word Count: 1820

You weren’t one of those people who loved being the center of attention. You knew that being in the spotlight also meant constantly living under a microscope, and you decided a long time ago that that was not for you.

But you were lucky enough to work as an assistant art director at just 24. You were hoping that The King of Staten Island, your newest project, would help get your name out into the professional world. But that wasn’t the only thing to come out of the film.

It happened unexpectedly, you showed up on set the first day, ready to do whatever the art director required of you. You couldn’t help but be slightly distracted by the lead actor and writer, Pete Davidson. He was so kind and funny, and he wasn’t uptight like everyone else.

After a few hours of filming, he came up to you, introducing himself. He said he “wanted to get to know everyone working on the project,” but you didn’t see him introducing himself to anyone else. You two started talking during breaks. Then he started sitting with you at lunch. Then he was asking for your number.

In a matter of weeks he was asking you out to dinner, taking you to a cozy restaurant that you absolutely adored. He walked you home, his hand grazing yours until you intertwined your fingers.

It was all very romantic, so when Pete asked if he could take you on another, you obviously said yes. Flash forward two weeks and he finally got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, even though you were both exclusively seeing each other already.

After filming ended 2 months later, you were still working on the film in post, which meant you had an excuse to stay  in Staten Island with Pete. After about 2 weeks in post, you spent more nights in his bed than your hotel’s.

Nearly 6 months later and you were happier than ever. You were splitting your time between your small apartment in the Bronx and Pete’s basement apartment. Pete introduced you to most of his friends, and you introduced him to yours.

But other than your small circles of friends, you kept your relationship fairly quiet. Pete doesn’t have social media and yours is strictly professional, so there are no pictures of you two together. You weren’t hiding each other, you loved each other, you just had no reason to tell tabloids. And you were perfectly happy with that.

Which made it so much worse when various news sites had pictures of you two holding hands. Had they been anyone else you would’ve thought they were cute, walking along the South Beach oceanside at night.

Pete had been in the SNL studio all day when the pictures were released, while you were in his apartment, trying your best to focus on the photoset in front of you. The production team wanted the film to scream “teen romance,” which basically entails subtle pink undertones and a higher saturation. But you couldn’t quite get the coloring right, probably because you weren’t actually focusing on the colors.

You sighed, looking at the time and realizing that Pete won’t be back until sometime after 2am, which was a whole 5 hours away. You let out a huff, pushing away from the desk and making your way to Pete’s closet and searching for one of his hoodies. They always smelled like him (and weed), so it was a comfort to you.

You crashed onto the bed, finding the phone that you had tossed there a few hours earlier. Turning it on you were surprised by the number of notifications you were getting. You knew the photos had surfaced but you weren’t expecting this.

Your Instagram was blowing up with new follows, likes, and comments. It was kind of exciting at first until you started reading some of the comments.

I mean, we knew he would downgrade from Ari, but this is like… really far down.

This girl really thinks she’s special just bc Pete’s dating her. Hun he could do so much better

Who is she?!? Literally no one.

Someone needs to show her how to dress

That hairstyle is not it honey

Pete Davidson is dating YOU??? He could do sooo much better

Ari was prettier sorry not sorry

The entire comment section on your last post, a picture of you on the set of your latest film, was pretty much the same. There were some nice comments, but a lot of mean ones.

And you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop looking at them. It felt so cliché, but it was like all of your deepest insecurities about being with Pete were thrown out on the table.

You knew that Pete had a fairly large following, and that a lot of people had really strong feelings about him. You had expected that if and when your relationship went public you would have a lot of people watching you, scrutinizing you. But you didn’t care because Pete was worth it.

Now you weren’t so sure. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle people talking bad about you, because you definitely could, even if it hurt. You just weren’t expecting the amount of people comparing you to Ariana or saying that Pete could do so much better.

And it only bothered you so much because you felt it too. Your inner demons loved to remind you that Pete had dated Ariana fucking Grande and now he’s dating you. Anyone could see an obvious downgrade.

You turned your phone off and threw it on the opposite side of the bed, trying to think positive thoughts. “I am in control of my own thoughts and emotions. I am catching my negative thoughts and fixing them.” You murmured your therapist’s mantra to yourself, but it was too late. The thoughts had already taken hold of your mind.

Your eyes started to water as you could feel the heavy feeling in your chest set in. You pulled the hood over your head, pulling the straps to hide as much of your face as possible, and pulling your knees to your chest. You laid like that for a while, tears falling as doubts ran through your head. Once you had effectively exhausted your thoughts, you went numb. Your tears had stopped, but you couldn’t move. This wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it sure wasn’t pleasurable.

There was a sort of buzzing throughout your body, almost like the feeling when your foot falls asleep, but everywhere. It seemed to block out your sound, as you didn’t hear the basement door open. You only knew that Pete was home when he sat beside you on the bed, pulling the hood off your face.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiled at you. You tried your best to fake one back, but you honestly couldn’t find the energy. Pete pulled you so you were sitting up, back pressed against his front. His arms wrapped around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “What’s goin on?” He murmured against your skin.

“Did you see them?” You asked, your voice quiet and hoarse.

Pete let out a sigh, “Yeah, I saw them.” He paused, his hold on you getting tighter, like he was making sure you couldn’t leave. “I’m sorry baby. I know you didn’t want it to be a whole big thing.”

You turned your head to face him, “It’s not that. I really don’t mind that people know. We weren’t trying to hide anything.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I know I just- it was nice having this to ourselves.”

He wanted to hide you. He’s embarrassed of you.

Your inner dialogue never seemed to shut up.

You turned away from Pete, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah.” You whispered.

“What’s wrong, you’re still upset.” He rocked you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. You shrugged in response, not trusting yourself to talk. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

You nodded, leaning further into Pete’s chest. “People found my Instagram.” You murmured, looking down and tracing the arrow tattoo on his hand.

“Whaddya mean? I thought it was public?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

You sighed, wishing you hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, it is. But after all the articles people started following me and shit.”

“I would ask how that’s a problem but I deleted my Instagram so I can’t really talk.” You could tell he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t seem to get out of your haze.

You shook your head, deciding to drop the matter. “It’s not, I’m just being overdramatic.” You sighed, putting on a fake smile and facing him fully. “Wanna watch a movie?” You asked, trying to change the topic.

He gave you the I-know-you’re-bullshitting-me look, which made you look down. “Something’s bothering you, Y/N. And you’re trying to pretend it doesn’t because you think your feelings aren’t valid, but they are.” He tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes that were still trained on the bedsheets below you.

“Where’d you learn that one?” You chuckled half-heartedly.

“Rehab part 2” he smiled, hand coming to your jaw to tilt your head up. “C’mon, talk to me. I wanna help.”

You huffed, moving towards the opposite side of the bed where your phone laid. You opened it, finding your Instagram, and showing him the comments. His eyebrows furrowed as he scrolled through the comments. When he decided he’d had enough he put your phone down, grabbing your waist and lifting you onto his lap so you were essentially straddling him.

He leaned his forehead against your own, your noses touching. “That’s all bullshit, you know that, right?”

You looked down, biting your lip. “Y/N you’re the most amazing, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, okay? I’m in love with you, not anyone else.” Pete’s eyes were searching yours, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“I know.” You sighed, “It’s just hard to be with you and not compare myself to her. And then all these people started to do it too, and they kept saying that you could do so much better and you can. So, I dunno I guess I just kind of spiraled.”

Pete captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss. “Y/N. There is literally no better than you. I can’t do better because you are the best woman I have ever loved. “

You pulled Pete in for another kiss. “Thank you, Pete. I love you.”

“I love you too. If this happens again, I want you to call me. I don’t care what I’m doing, I’d drop it all for you.” You smiled, sitting in the arms of the guy you loved. The thoughts didn’t just magically go away, but for a brief moment in time, you were happy.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Could you repeat the question?

pairing: Taehyung x reader, oc x Yeonjun (TXT)

premise: a joint interview with your group, BTS, and TXT two months after you met your soulmate.

word count: 2k

[2/2] continuation of Can’t Keep My Hands To Myself

requested by anon - a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post! 

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

“Please don’t tell them.”

“Me? Why would I say anything?”

“You...you have that look.”

Yeonjun whirls around to face Taehyung, who just entered the room. “Do I have a look?”

Taehyung winks at you in greeting, something that nearly makes you swoon and your group members snicker. 

“A look?” He frowns for a moment before giving his dongsaeng a pitiful smile. “Oh yeah, you do. Definitely.” Taehyung smiles at Jiwoo, my band member who is busy sending death glares at her soulmate. “He’s gonna spill it.”

Yeonjun jumps up from his seat at the same time Taehyung settles down beside you, placing his arm on the back of the couch and brushing your hair off to the side. It’s enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, which of course he notices. 

Oh, how you’d like to wipe that knowing little smirk off his face right now. 

“I can’t believe this! I’m not going to say a thing-”

“Yeonjun, and I’m saying this with love, if you say a single thing about it, I will personally unplug your refrigerator when you least expect it.”

Your attention is pulled away when you feel Taehyung leaning in to whisper something in your ear. “So, do we know what they’re arguing about?”

You can’t help but giggle. “Nope. Jiwoo won’t say anything.”

“Neither will Yeonjun.”

The smitten couple have been teasingly arguing for the entirety of the morning, leaving the rest of us in complete and utter confusion. 

Oh well, I suppose it’ll help make the broadcast a bit more exciting. 

It’s been two months since Jiwoo and I first *ahem* teleported to our soulmates at the MAMA awards. Or rather, since I landed in Taehyung’s lap and Jiwoo was nearly knocked unconscious when Yeonjun was thrown into her at full force. Of course, Jiwoo claims that it was horribly embarrassing, to which I’m always quick to say that she should feel lucky that at least she didn’t end up in a grown man’s lap. For all to see, no less. 

Ari, our other group member, just rolls her eyes and tells us that beggars can’t be choosers. 

Yeah, whatever that means. 

The past two months have been busy, with hardly enough time to spend with my soulmate. Between the busy schedules and BTS and TXT and our own schedule, we’ve had to settle for late-night FaceTimes and the occasional lunch at the Bighit building. I’ve become really good at sneaking in and out of that building in broad daylight - so far I have yet to be discovered. 

Today, however, is an important one. It’s our first official schedule together as soulmates. Naturally, all three groups have come together for the interview/variety show. 

“Alright, time to head on!” A manager shouts into the room, and suddenly there’s a flurry of movement as we all head toward the door. “I need all the soulmates to stick to their own groups, ok? We don’t want to be causing a riot today.”

Right. With a gloomy expression, Taehyung parts from me to head back to his members. Jiwoo and I glue ourselves to Ari’s side, much to her chagrin. “Ready?”

Both you and Jiwoo respond simultaneously. “Nope.”

Ari just sighs, feigning annoyance. Together, the three of you await your cue as one by one, your groups are introduced. 

TXT goes first, the hosts making a big deal out of swooning over Soobin who now has a cult of his own due to his MC abilities. They make a show of handing the microphone over to him, begging him to take it over from there. He politely declines, while the rest of the boys bicker and chat in the background. 

Then your group is called out, and you find yourself walking out before a huge crowd. You didn’t realize that many people could fit in this building, but here they are. And all of them are here for the same reason: to get a look at the soulmate couples that have newly formed. 

And that have been trending on Twitter and Tumblr for two solid months, breaking all kinds of records. 

As BTS is introduced with an almost reverent tone, you understand why you’ve been trending for so long.

It has a lot to do with one of the men walking out right now, smiling at the crowd and waving, graciously bowing his way across the stage. 

Taehyung wears a gray casual suit which has him looking like he just stepped off a photoshoot. Hair perfectly styled and eyes glowing with adoration for the fans that roar and wave, he commands the entire room with a single raise of his eyebrows. 

Your soulmate, ladies and gentlemen. 

Today is the day where you prove to the rest of the world how much of a perfect match you are for this man. The notion is terrifying. 

“Wow!” The host, a jovial man named Donghyun shouts out, exaggerating how amazed he is by the crowd’s reaction to all three groups sharing the same stage. Indeed, it’s a rare sight. “Ok! Should we get started?”

After a few minutes of more introductions, a few cursory questions (he asks Yeonjun what he’s been up to recently and you’re pretty sure Jiwoo manages to telepathically threaten him, because he chooses the most vague answer imaginable), and instructions on how to begin the next activities, you’re off to the races. 

Painting races, that it. 

Donning a frock and eyeing the empty canvas before you, you glare at your opponent across the way. Taehyung, to his credit, refrains from winking at you. He thinks you’re adorable when you’re flustered, but now’s not the time. 

“Taehyung-ssi!”

Taehyung blinks up at Donghyun. “Yes?”

“Are you going to let your soulmate win?”

The game is simple: paint the listed object with as much detail as possible in a sixty second period. The others will have to guess what it is. 

Taehyung pouts his lips a bit, glancing over at you with a glint in his eye. “I’ll have to see, I think.”

Donghyun chuckles into the mic, turning to face you. “What about you? If Taehyung-ssi falls behind, will you help him win?”

You wiggle your eyebrows at your soulmate, heart soaring when he delivers a boxy grin. “Oh, of course not. I came to compete, not hold hands.”

The crowd bursts out laughing, and someone yells out, “I’ll hold his hand for you!”

You all dissolve into a fit of laughter at that, your cheeks blushing madly. “Yeah, thanks for the offer,” you say between giggles. Readying your paint brush, you wait for the signal. 

You’ve been given the word ‘Iceland’, which you figure shouldn’t be too hard. 

What you failed to account for was the fact that you’re perhaps the worst painter you know. What should look like a globe looks like a basketball and what should be a cube of ice instead looks like nothing more than a cardboard box. 

In the end, you’re pretty sure you laugh more than you paint. Your team members, consisting of a mix from both teams, look utterly confused at the end product. Eventually it’s Jin - who happens to be on Taehyung’s team - that accidentally calls out the answer. 

The rest of the games pass by in a blur of laughter and covert glances toward Taehyung. He always manages to find a way to make you laugh, even though he remains on the other side of the stage for the most part. You don’t miss all of the fans that look at him dreamily, and you can only hope that they’re happy with your overall performance today. 

At the end, you all squeeze onto a couple of couches. Donghyun makes a fuss over allowing the soulmates to sit together, and you can’t hide your smile as a beet-red Yeonjun sidles down to the couch to sit beside Jiwoo, placing his hands in his lap and trying not to do anything that will go viral. 

Taehyung sits on your right, crossing his arms in a way that pulls on his suit jacket enough to expose the outline of his biceps. You catch your eyes wandering, snapping your attention back to the front where Donghyun reads some questions off of a card. 

“I believe that this was the first time soulmates have met while performing at MAMA, is that correct? What were your first thoughts when you suddenly found yourselves face to face with your soulmate?”

The four of you that now have all the attention riding on your shoulders look to each other for help. Finally, with a racing heart, you answer first.

“I think the obvious answer is that I was shocked,” you smile as knowing chuckles ripple through the room. “But I was also really grateful, because Taehyung was so kind and understanding. The staff were very professional and helped us quickly. Overall, I really can’t imagine it having happened in any other way.”

There’s a few ooh’s and aww’s that greet your ears, but you look down at your lap as you blush. Taehyung slightly nudges your knee with his own, and in that simple movement you feel the comfort that he’s trying to give you. 

“I’d actually been talking to Jiminie earlier about soulmates,” Taehyung pipes up. 

“Oh, yeah! That’s right!” Jimin says, giving his friend a slap on the shoulder. “What are the odds?”

Taehyung flashes a shy smile. “I told him that I felt like I was ready. It can be strangely lonely sometimes, and there are times when I just felt like I was missing something. Now, all I have to do is pick up my phone and my missing piece is on the other side, ready to talk with me.”

Now people are really swooning, you included. You dare to peek over at your soulmate, heart nearly melting when you see that his shy smile is paired with pink cheeks. You wish that you could snuggle up to him right now, but that would definitely not end well. Instead, you lightly nudge his knee with your own, returning the little slice of comfort he provided you earlier. 

“And you two?” Dongyun asks after wiping fake tears away from his eyes. 

Yeonjun chews on his bottom lip, Jiwoo too lost in thought to notice that he has that look again. 

“I, er...” Yeonjun begins, squirming a little in his seat. “I was...really happy.”

Donghyun urges Yeonjun to continue. “Of course you were! What about finding Jiwoo made you so happy?”

Jiwoo looks up in horror, but it’s too late. Yeonjun has already opened his mouth and begun to speak. 

“I was so happy because the first thing she said to me was that she thought I was so hot.”

Radio silence. 

And then-

“Oh-ho!! Yeonjunnie you’re so dead!” Hueningkai laughs, and soon everyone follows suit. Even Donghyun has to throw his hand over his mouth to keep himself from snorting with laughter. 

Jiwoo looks at Yeonjun, who completely avoids her gaze as he stares unblinking at the floor. Then, quietly enough for nobody to hear except for you who sits beside her, she whispers, “Say goodbye to all the perishable items in your fridge.”

In the chaos that ensues, Taehyung discreetly traces circles against your arm and mumbles, “Why didn’t you say that to me when we first met?”

You smack his shoulder. “I should be asking you the same thing!”

Just before everything calms down again, Taehyung leans over to grab the abandoned canvas on the ground. Taking the still-wet paint and dipping his finger into it, he draws something out on it. Nudging you to get your attention, he flashes the canvas for you to see, hiding it from the cameras. 

It’s hard to keep a neutral expression as you see his handiwork. It’s just six words, but they’re enough to have your entire face flushed a moment later. 

I think you’re hotter than Yeonjun ;)

Stifling a laugh, you roll your eyes. “I hope you know I’m keeping that,” you mumble. Taehyung grins.

“Great. We’ll get it framed.”

A few days later, you do. It hangs in the front room of your apartment, for all to see. And for Jiwoo to loathe, as it serves as a constant reminder of her embarrassing first words to her soulmate.

Oh well. In the words of Ari, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

masterlist

[gaysimpsstuff]

HI IM THE DOM DEKU ANON (I’ll go by ✨ for now? If that’s okay?) first of all that was SO good holy SHIT. I would LOVE more if you want to write it!!! I loved every single second of it, thank you thank you thank you!!! -✨

AHHHHHHH I LOVE YOU TOOOO!!!

You’re awesome, Sparkle Anon! Take this as a token of my appreciation!

Part One Here

Dominate Deku PT.2; My Hero

Deku x GN! Reader

Genre: smutty smut

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: cursing, semi-public sex, praise, blowjobs, dirty talk, praise, dom deku, breath play, masturbation

Summary: After being saved by Pro Hero Deku, you (his biggest fan), decide to thank him the best way you know how.

Other: I decided to make this one a oneshot because I’m better at those than headcannons. 

NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy (lemme know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist)

Before requesting, please check if requests are open. This was made while requests were still open.

A normal day. That’s what it was supposed to be. You were not supposed to be stuck in the middle of a villain fight. You were not supposed to meet your hero. You were definitely not supposed to do that with him. And you were not supposed to get his number.

But that’s what happened.

Your day started out boring as hell, wake up to your loud-ass alarm, get dressed in a boring ass outfit, eat a boring breakfast, grab a coffee or something to wake you up, and go to work. 

You already knew what was supposed to happen today, and this was not it. You were supposed to stay behind the counter of the coffee shop and take orders. If you were lucky someone would put something funny for their name. Instead, you got an explosion down the street. Immediately, the costumer’s raced out of the building, you and your co-workers following suit.

You located three pro heroes.

Dynamight

Red Riot

Deku

You also noticed a few villains. You realized Dynamight must have been the cause of the explosion. But oh my god- you’re favorite hero, the current number one hero.

Deku.

He was here.

Outside your coffee shop.

Fighting villains.

Best.

Day.

Ever.

On TV, he looked different. Nothing could fully capture that beautiful neon glow around him, or the way his green curls would float upwards and bounce around. And Damn did his undercut look fucking awesome. He looked huge, like he could carry you with his pinky finger. He probably could- no. He definitely could.

Just as you were thinking this, one of the villains grabbed you and yanked you in front of her. You glanced at the other villain, who’d pulled a random civilian in front of him too.

Fuck.

Maybe today wasn’t the best day ever after all.

“Come on heroes! Fight us! Or are you afraid we’ll hurt these innocent people? Back off and we might just let them live!” The villain holding you shouted at the heroes.

There was a moment’s hesitation.

Silence.

Then something wrapped around you and the other civilian, and you were yanked forward, barreling towards the heroes.

Deku.

Did he really move that fast?

Deku stopped himself behind the other two heroes, who immediately ran towards the villains, but you barely even noticed.

Deku had his arm wrapped around you, holding you close. He grinned at both you and the other civilian, a glint in his emerald eyes.

“Don’t you guys worry, we’re here and we’ll keep you safe!” Your heart fluttered at the sound of his catchphrase.

You’re hero is so cool!

He sets the two of you down, but his hand lingers on your waist for a moment, his eyes meeting yours.

You felt your whole body heat up as his hand slipped down, brushing against your backside before he quickly stuffed it into his pocket.

“Dynamight! Red Riot! You guys finished?”

“If you’d been paying attention, Deku, then you would have seen that we’ve already restrained the villains.” Deku’s face flushed a little, and he scratched behind his neck with a chuckle.

“Sorry guys!”

The police arrived a minute later, and the crowd dispersed pretty quickly. You got in the line for an autograph from Deku. You silently hoped that he wouldn’t leave to soon.

You were the last person in line thanks to your earlier flustered behavior. If only you’d gotten over your embarrassment quicker.

Finally, you approached your hero.

“Um- hi Deku,” you stuttered, mentally kicking yourself for acting so shy. “Thank you so much for saving me, I was sure I was gonna get hurt back there!” He grinned down at you (how was he so fucking tall?) and your heart skipped a beat.

“It’s no problem, really. My job is to help people like you.” His smile was so sweet, but for some reason he seemed uncomfortable. Shifting from one foot to the next, glancing at you and away from you as if you were the cause. Were you weirding him out?

“Ah- I’m sorry if I cause you any trouble-“ you started, only to get intuition by the green-haired hero.

“No no no, you didn’t cause me any trouble.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to decipher his behavior. Then you saw it.

Shit.

This is awkward.

W-why was he hard?

Did- did you do that?

An idea popped into your head, a stupid, horny idea. One that probably wouldn’t work. But god did you hope it would work.

“I-if there’s anything I can do to repay you, I want to do it.” He glanced down at you, a look of understanding in his eyes. He seemed to hesitate before shaking his head.

“It’s alright- I can handle myself. I should really be apologizing-“ now it was your turn to interrupt.

“No, no it’s okay. I’d like to help.” He looked down at you, lifting an eyebrow to double check how sure you were. You have him a nod in response and he relaxed, smiling at you.

“Alright then. Dynamight! Red Riot! You two can go ahead without me, I’ve got some business to attend to.”

Dynamight shouted something at him, flipping him off, Red Riot stood in front of him and smiled nervously, waving at Deku.

“Don’t worry about it, man! We’ll finish off the patrol on our own!” The two of them turned the corner. Leaving you. With Deku. Alone. The her turned to look at you, gently placing his hand on your upper arm before taking you with him into an alley, ducking around the corner with you. 

“What’s your name?” he asked, cheeks flushed.

“Y-Y/n L/n.” you responded nervously.

“Y/n...” he murmured your name and you could feel your soul leaving your body. “Y/n are you sure you want to help me with this? You don’t have to and I’m not going to do this if you don’t want to. I could always just take care of it myself and-”

“I really want to help!” you exclaimed. “I’ve been a fan of yours for years and well... I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you attractive.” You felt his hand on your shoulder before you were spun around and pressed up against the wall. You let out a squeak as he pushed on your body lightly, putting you on your knees quickly in front of the hero. 

“Tell me if you want to stop.” his voice had changed, usually it was lighter and carried a sort-of happy-go-lucky tone to it, but now... His voice was deeper, almost a growl, and the look in his eyes made you shudder. You nodded at him quickly, before he undid a small clip near his crotch. It was probably there to help him pee without needing to take off his whole costume, but well... this was a great alternate use.

He pulled out his dick, and you choked. It wasn’t even anywhere near your mouth and you already couldn’t breath. He had to have been eight or nine inches, curving upwards and to the left. There was a long vein on the underside, and a couple smaller veins on the top. It was a shade darker than the rest of his skin, and the tip was very pink. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so goddamn big. Deku must have noticed your reaction, because he let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s the face most people make.” he joked. “Gonna give up on me now?” you shook your head, clenching your legs together. You reached up, slowly wrapping your fingers around his length.

He smirked down at you, reaching down and brushing your hair out of your face. You slowly started to jerk him off, feeling him harden even more in your hand. A droplet of pre slipped out of the slit, dripping off of him. You moved to catch the drop in your mouth. It didn’t have much of a taste, reminded you a bit of cottage cheese maybe? Except not cold.

“Damn~ that was hot,” you looked up at the hero, who was leaning half against the wall. His eyes seemed to have darkened, and he had a smug look on his face that made your stomach flip. “You like it? Hmm? Like this hero’s cock?” you whimpered, nodding. “Why don’t you take on more of it, hm? How’s that sound baby~” 

His voice went straight to your crotch, and you dipped your hands into your pants to touch yourself. You pressed your lips against the tip of his cock, kissing it. You slowly kissed down the underside, all the way to the base. You heard him hiss as you licked a stripe all the way up to his tip, flattening your tongue against him.

His hands wove into your hair, tugging on it lightly. You shudder, opening your mouth and slowly taking the tip in to your waiting cavern. You watch the hero’s expression carefully, how his eyebrows quirk up, how he hisses, how his pearly teeth dig into the soft flesh of his lower lip, how his eyes are half-closed.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for me.” he murmurs. “Taking my cock so well, gonna try an get me to cum? Is that what you want? Want your hero to cum all over you?” you hummed, slowly taking in more of him.

He was so big, you could barely get down halfway, reaching up to stroke the three and a half inches you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You watched as his smug look only grew, his cock twitching in your mouth as you started to bob your head, tongue running along the underside.

His breath hitched, and he tightened his grip on your hair, slowly starting to guide you along his length. You moved your hand away from his dick, putting your arm around the back of his waist, using it to push yourself all the way down on him. Tears bubbled up in your eyes, and you were just barely getting enough air.

God it was so perfect.

You sped up your other hand, masturbating as you sucked off the Number One Hero in an alleyway. 

Your nose was buried in a thick mass of dark green hair, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice from the support of his lower stomach. 

“Fuck, Y/n! Who knew you were so fucking good at this? This is certainly not gonna be a one-time thing~” 

Oh god yes. 

You choked and gagged on his dick as he pulled his hips away from you before snapping them against your face. His balls slapped against your chin with every thrust into your mouth. The tears escaped, tumbling down your heated cheeks, but you made no effort to pull away. 

You could feel your climax approaching, and you looked up at Deku with wide, innocent, eyes, willing him to cum in your mouth. He let out a soft moan at your expression, understanding.

“Get ready, baby, you’re gonna taste me soon~” he growled with need. You relaxed your throat as best you could, closing your eyes and preparing for him. Soon, his hips started to stutter against your face, and you felt something hot and sticky fill your mouth.

You pulled off his dick with a gasp, a few shots of stray cum landing on your face. You coughed a little, swallowing as much as you could and wiping your tears. You barely noticed him crouching down and handing you a tissue to clean your face with. 

“Baby~ you haven’t cum yet have you~” he asked softly. You shook your head.

“S’fine, just wanted to make you feel good.” you told him, and he frowned, slamming his hand against the wall behind you, leaning in close.

“I’m not leaving until you cum.” there it was again, the dominance, his demanding tone, his true wolf-like nature pushing through. You whimpered, pulling your pants down enough for him to see you. He sucked in a breath, leaning close to you and moving his hand towards you.

You put your hands over your mouth when he started to touch you. Fast yet calculated movements, he knew exactly what to do to you to make you come undone. You quickly latched onto him, hips jerking upwards as you came hard on his hand.

You felt his lips against your neck, pressing soft kisses until he reached all the way up to yours. His lips were soft, and tasted like watermelon. You lifted your head feebly to kiss him back, but he was already pulling away. He sucked his fingers and hand clean, keeping eye-contact with you the whole time.

You could feel yourself growing weak under his powerful gaze. When he finished, he wiped his hand off on his pants, tucking his softening dick back into his pants and clipping them shut. He pressed something into your hand, smiling at you.

“You can take care of yourself from here, right? Or do I need to save you again~” he teased. You nodded, muttering that you’d be fine. His smirk softened into a sweet grin, and he stood up. “Call me, I’d like to see you again.” he said over his shoulder, turning the corner and leaving the alley. You lifted your hand to see what he gave you, a crumpled piece of paper with a phone number and the words ‘Izuku Midoriya’ printed next to it.

His phone number. 

Not only had you just sucked his dick, you got his number. You sighed, resting your head against the wall and closing your eyes for a moment. Suddenly, you remembered you still had work, and you stood up, rushing to pull your pants and underwear back on.

So what if today was supposed to be a normal day? 

It didn’t end up being one, and you were so glad for it.

[utopianvoices]

past, present, future → b.chan

synopsis: Your best friend drags you to his high school reunion against your will, and never have you encountered such chaos. Alternatively, you go on the journey of making more friends, and a potential lover.

genre: high school acquaintances to lovers au; fluff, one second of angst

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 14.4k

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, kinda dialogue heavy (oops)

note: i am BACK with this mess of a fic. it took me too long to finish this, and i apologise for any shitty writing :3 thanks to my little babie @curanonemu​ for making sure i finished this and supporting me as usual muAH. new formatting on posts too weeeee (new year, new me fsdhfgs jk no)!! also, synopsis kinda sucks i’m sorry :P hope y’all enjoy! x

i.

You did not want to go for your high school reunion dinner. 

High school is a time for many that is either the best, or worst time of their lives. Forever friends are found there and painstakingly embarrassing memories are made in run down buildings with people you care about. Except, you didn’t have any such attachments. 

Those three years were nothing but a filler for you as you studied, helped out in the library, and hung out with one person you called your best friend. 

And on top of it all, it wasn’t even a high school reunion dinner meant for you.

The night the bomb is dropped on you, Changbin walks into the living room of the apartment you both share just outside the grounds of your university, and goes straight to the kitchen to fix himself a bowl of cereal because cooking and Changbin did not get along well. The apartment was way cheaper than the dorms your school provided, and it definitely did not have any nosy RAs who were just out there to torture students for their own viewing pleasure.

On top of all that, you could live with your best friend and not some random stranger who might very much as well be a psychotic killer. Perhaps, Changbin could have some questionable habits, like talking to himself in a baby voice while looking in the mirror, but nothing that threatened your life. 

You hear Changbin’s phone ringing from the kitchen as you aimlessly flip through the shows available on Netflix, deciding which new show you should watch and commit to, when your best friend’s boisterous laughter fills your ears. Used to the noise, you roll your eyes before increasing the volume of the TV, finally deciding to rewatch Sherlock.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re about to solve the known mystery together with Benedict Cumberbatch when Changbin walks in front of the TV, automatically eliciting a whine from you as you crane your neck left and right to catch a glimpse of the screen. 

“What the fuck, Bin?” You finally yell, frowning at the boy in front of you. Realising that he probably wanted something, considering the fact that he wasn’t moving till you asked him, you switch the TV off and settle back into the sofa, throwing him a death glare. “What do you want from me, pest?”

Something’s definitely amiss when you see Changbin shuffling his feet and looking at the ground, a guilty smile ever-present on his face. 

“Whatever it is, my answer is no,” you say distantly, leaning back into the sofa with crossed arms. “So give it up.”

“Oh c’mon Y/n! At least hear me out?” Changbin cries out loudly, dropping onto his knees with clasped hands. 

Heaving out a sigh, you slowly unfold your arms and lean forward, eyebrows raised as you nod at the poor boy in front of you. “I’ll hear you out. But don’t expect me to say yes.”

“Um...” Changbin starts, eyes darting around the room as he tries to find the right words. “So my high school friends are having a reunion dinner next week and I told them I’d go, but I also said I’d bring you along and they were too happy and so now I think you’ll have to come with me but-”

“Woah woah woah, a high school reunion party? Absolutely not.” 

It’s not like you had anything against his friends. You did have brief interactions with a few of them in high school and you knew they were pretty decent lads, but there was no way you were following Changbin to what was meant to be a friends’ gathering. 

“But why not!” Changbin whines, waddling over to you on his knees. “It’ll be really fun!”

“Yeah, fun for you,” you deadpan, staring at your pitiful best friend who has now resorted to throwing you puppy eyes. “They’re your friends after all, not mine.”

“That’s right. But they could be. Don’t you think it’s time you start finding more friends who are not me?” 

Changbin’s once pitiful eyes held something other than desperation at that moment; they held concern. 

It was true that you had no other friend other than Changbin. You knew lots of people, sure, but you wouldn’t call them your friends. With no friends to your name other than that one, it also wasn’t hard to guess that you never dated too. But all that mattered is that you were fine with it, right?

“You know that I don’t need any other friends. You’re more than enough for me. Truthfully, I don’t think I could deal with another Changbin in my life.” 

Your words incite chuckles from Changbin, but that doesn’t stray him from his original goal. 

“How about this,” he starts, opting to sit cross-legged on the floor because his knees were starting to hurt way too much. “You come to the reunion with me, and the moment you feel uncomfortable, we both can leave no questions asked. Deal?”

As tempting as that sounded, you knew it was not fair to cut Changbin’s precious time with his friends just because you did not want to hang out with new people. “That’s not fair to you.” 

Shaking his head, Changbin stares at you, the fire in his eyes clearly visible, and you know that he had made up his mind. “I don’t care. It’s either you follow me and we can leave whenever, or I don’t go at all.”

There was no turning back now. You knew that in the end, what Changbin wants, he gets. 

You sigh numbly before nodding your head in defeat, dreading the day that was to come where you had to leave the comfort of your apartment. 

With no warning, you’re engulfed in a tight hug by a nuisance chanting “thank you” a million times. You ease into the hug, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a light squeeze, before pulling back to see that he had a smile similar to the one on your face. 

“I guess you’re right about me needing more friends. I can’t be annoying you for the rest of my life, right?”

ii.

You’re once again reminded why you don’t go for social gatherings as you take in the various clothes strewn all over your room. 

“Hey- Woah, what happened here?” Changbin asks, bewildered at the sight in front of him. “It looks like a hurricane hit your room or something.”

“Yes, it’s called Hurricane Y/n Is Screwed,” you reply sarcastically, before sinking down into your bed in defeat. Looking up at your best friend, you decide to give it a shot and put on your most pitiful face. “Do I really have to go?” 

“Yes, you really have to go,” Changbin replies without sparing you another glance, as he sifts through the heap of clothes on your bed. “And get that ugly look off your face, please. It makes me want to barf.” 

Flipping your best friend off, you manoeuvre yourself such that you’re facing Changbin, and look upon him in curiosity. 

After what felt like forever, pieces of clothing are thrown at you, along with a reminder that you had three hours before you had to leave. 

“Three?!” You screech, causing Changbin to wince and cover his ears. “You should’ve told me earlier so that I have more time!” 

“What are you so loud for, you damn pterodactyl? And three hours is more than enough. We’re just going to a cheap restaurant a few blocks away because we’re all broke college students.” 

Huffing at your insolent best friend, you grab the clothes he threw at you and make your way to the bathroom, not bothering to contemplate his decision because you knew he had pretty good taste in fashion. In fact, half the clothes you had in your wardrobe were bought with him as your advisor, so you’re really in no position to criticise his choices.

You stare at your reflection and let out a nervous breath; you weren’t used to meeting new people, and there was no way you were going to be able to handle a hoard of newly turned adults. The last thing you wanted was to cut Changbin’s time short with his friends, and as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you make a promise to yourself that you’ll get through the night by whatever means. Even if it meant hours of torture.

Changbin, with absolutely no urgency, is sitting on the couch watching the fourth Harry Potter movie, when you walk into the living room, makeup half done and still dressed in your stay-at-home clothes. Boys, you think.

“I think I need to know who and how many people will be there,” you finalise, watching Changbin pick up the remote and pausing the movie at exactly when Cedric dies; poor chap. “ So that I can, you know, mentally prepare myself.”

“You really don’t, but okay. There’ll be nine of us, including you. Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix from the dance team, Jeongin and Seungmin from the baseball team, Chan from the swimming team, soccer team, and honours board, and Jisung who was pretty much useless like me.” 

“Wow.” 

“In my defense, you’ve seen all of these dudes at least once,” Changbin says, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, they’re all really nice and fun so you have nothing to worry about.” 

“Says you,” you mutter under your breath, before returning to your room to prepare for your doom.

iii.

The sign of the restaurant flickers periodically as you stand in the middle of the street with Changbin by your side. People brush past you as they hurry to meet their friends and families in the various restaurants lining the street, excitement evident in their steps.

Taking a deep breath, you push open the door. Immediately, a gush of warm air welcomes you, causing you to let out a content sigh.

“Hey Changbin!” A loud voice calls out from behind you, and the both of you turn in your place. The sight in front of you gives you equal amounts of anxiety and fear, as you wonder how you were going to handle the table of one, two, three… seven boys, including the embarrassment standing beside you, who was now busy doing some sort of weird wave in favour of a greeting. 

“Changbin, please,” you plead, burying your face in your hands as you willed for someone to transport you back to your apartment so that you didn’t have to face reality and stand next to your shameless friend. 

Chuckling sheepishly, your best friend finally stops, patting your back before walking towards the table at the back of the restaurant. “Oops sorry. Let’s go meet the rest!” 

Here goes nothing.

Reaching the almost-filled table, your eyes dart from face to face, trying to see if you could remember anyone currently seated in front of you. 

“Guys! This is Y/n, my best friend,”—at this, a few complaints erupt from around the table—”Gosh, fine. My other best friend.” 

Immediately, at least three people shout their greetings your way. 

“Hi Y/n! Nice to meet you!”

“Yo~ Changbin’s told us lots about you.”

“Y/n, sit beside me!” 

Exasperated, your eyes flit around the table, trying your best to smile at all of them (which honestly turns out to look more like a pained grimace). Luckily, there was one seemingly sane person present. 

“Shut up, everyone.” A boy with blue hair and sharp eyes shushes everyone. “Hi Y/n, it’s nice to have you here. I’m Jeongin.” 

At this, the once quiet table is back to chaos as complaints are directed towards Jeongin for sneakily introducing himself first. Taking advantage of the mess, Changbin guides you towards the empty seats and finally settles the both of you down. Now all the seats were filled, except for one empty seat left beside you. 

You’re about to ask Chanbgin about the empty chair, but before you can, he claps his hands, attracting everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone will take turns introducing themselves. Seungmin, you start.”

The sandy haired boy seated on the right of Changbin waves both his hands while bouncing in his seat, reminding you of a puppy. “I’m Seungmin!”

Next is Jeongin, who just gives you a small smile. 

Beside him, you see a blonde haired boy, what is up with the hair colours, who just smiles brightly, eyes shining brightly and freckles visible. “Hello, I’m Felix. It’s great to meet you!” 

Taken aback by the deep voice, which was a total contrast to his cute appearance, you’re unable to hide the shock from your face. This triggers a bout of chuckles from the table; it was probably common for people to display similar reactions when meeting Felix. 

Before pretty boy (that’s what you decided to remember him as) could introduce himself, the black haired boy resembling a squirrel interrupts him. “I’m Jisung!” 

You recognise him as the one who shouted when you and Changbin entered the restaurant, and you’re about to acknowledge him when you’re cut off. 

“Oi Han, it was my turn to introduce myself! Who allowed you to skip the line?” 

“I do what I want,” was Jisung’s response, and pretty boy looked like he was one push away from murder. 

Just as you’re sure that you were about to witness a murder, Changbin chides the two boys and breaks up the petty argument. “Just introduce yourselves without any nonsense, please.” 

“I’m Hyunjin,” pretty boy mutters sulkily, giving Jisung a death stare. “And I can dance better than Jisung.”

“You motherf-”

“And I’m Minho,” the last person introduces himself, successfully cutting off Jisung’s profanity mid-word. “Sorry, don’t mind those two. They’re like Tom and Jerry.” 

Smiling weakly, you muster up the courage to introduce yourself to the four pairs of eyes staring at you. Hyunjin and Jisung were busy having a staredown, while Changbin was eyeing the meat sizzling on the grill. “Hi, I’m Y/n, Changbin’s friend. It’s nice to meet all of you. Thanks for having me here.” 

And just like that, everyone is back to their own conversations, with Changbin piling the perfectly done meat onto his plate. You take in a deep breath and look around the table at the happy faces. 

This isn’t so bad, you thought, a little chaotic, but otherwise entertaining. 

“They’re overwhelming huh?”

Any effort to mask your bewilderment vanishes as you catch the knowing look on Minho’s face. A guilty smile blooms on your face and you nod your head. “Just a little.”

“I get that,” he starts, but soon enough, there’s a content smile on his face that shows his love for his friends. “But at the end of the day, I know that these monkeys will be there for me no matter what, so I guess it makes it all worth it.”

Smiling softly at his words, you almost coo at the light blush dusting Minho’s face as reality catches up to him. 

“Ahem anyway. How’s living with Changbin?” He clears his throat before changing the topic, instinctively putting some meat on your plate before helping himself, earning a grateful smile from you. 

“It’s not too bad,” you start, feeling Changbin’s gaze on you after having overheard Minho’s question. “Except sometimes, he talks to himself in the mirror and it’s pretty scarring.”

“Y/n!” Changbin whines as Minho guffaws beside you, nodding his head to your answer, clearly having witnessed that side of Changbin before. “Wait till Chan comes. At least he’ll support me.” 

At the unfamiliar name, you furrow your brows and the name in the form of a question tumbles out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Chan?”

“He’s not here yet,” Minho addresses your confusion, having heard your little slip up. “He had to oversee the training for the upcoming soccer match, being the captain and all, and apparently he had a tutoring session after. He should be here soon though.”

That explains the empty chair beside you. 

“Oh, he needs to get tutored after training?” You ask, feeling bad for the unknown boy. Having to absorb information after physical activities is torture. You couldn’t even focus after 40 minutes of gym. “That’s rough.”

At your assumption, a cat-like smirk spreads across Minho’s face. “Oh no, darling. He tutors after his training.”

There’s no way you’re to be blamed for the first thought that pops into your head after discovering that said Chan was responsible and smart. You’ve seen people struggling with just one extracurricular, and begging teachers for extra credits because of poor time management. 

So, it’s really not your fault that the first words that enter your head is, that’s hot.

Just then, the bell situated above the door rings, indicating that someone was entering the restaurant. You’re not bothered by it, until Felix’s deep voice fills your ear.

“Chan!”

It’s almost comical how slowly you turn towards the sound, blush threatening to fill your cheeks at your first impression of Chan, without even meeting him. And as Giovanni Torriano has once said:

Talk of the Devil, and he's presently at your elbow.

Your eyes follow the figure of the devilishly breathtaking boy walking towards your table. He’s still dressed in what you assume was his soccer jersey, black hair tousled from the wind and practice. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of that inappropriate thought and opt to stare at the bowl of radish that looked the most interesting to you.

“Hey guys!” Chan smiles widely at the group of friends, as a few of them immediately get up from their seats to greet him with their usual bro hug. He sets his things down beside Minho, and is taking his seat when he spots you. Confusion clear in his eyes, he looks around the table, silently asking for an explanation as to what a stranger was doing at their usual table. 

You realise his staring and try to introduce yourself, but you find yourself unable to form sentences as the reality of who Chan was hits you. 

The star swimmer of your high school’s swimming team, and the top student of every single year. He was the epitome of popular. Everyone knew his name, and apparently he had never missed one day of lessons or training. On top of that, he used to regularly tutor in the library.

“Oh, this is my friend Y/n!” Changbin pipes up, slinging an arm around you. “Same high school as us, and my roommate now.”

At this, the confusion clouding Chan’s hazel eyes clears up, and he turns to face you, extending a hand. “The one who used to carry thick books everywhere and helped out in the library right? I’m Chan!” 

Being the complete opposite of your best friend, you’re sure no one has ever noticed you in the library. You blend in perfectly with the shadows and shelves, and you didn’t usually help the students out, opting to arrange the books in the storeroom—the one small thing you could do to help out the aged librarian who brought you mouth-watering brownies every Thursday. 

The thick books, in your defense, was your attempt at trying to finish the Harry Potter series whenever you had the spare time. You never had to explain yourself because you never expected anyone to notice. Especially not the most popular guy in school who had a million other friends.

But there he was, in all his glory, eyes crinkled into crescents as he waits for you to shake his hand, seemingly remembering you when nobody else did.

A small nudge to your side from Changbin breaks you out of your reverie and you grab his hand, silently noting how soft they were. “Nice to meet you.”

Smiling at you, he gently shakes your hand before turning to the other boys, immediately making jokes and laughing along. 

“What was that about?” Changbin whispers harshly, eyeing you and Chan suspiciously.

“What was what?” 

“Chan remembering you! You’ve never even met before.”

Looking at your best friend, you shrug before reaching out for another piece of meat. “Beats me.”

Changbin opens his mouth to interrogate you more, when he’s successfully cut off by Seungmin. 

“Y/n! Tell us more about yourself! I’m bored of hearing about these idiots.” 

Jeers sound from around the table as you let out a nervous chuckle, aware of how everyone’s attention was on you. “Me?” You ask, pointing to yourself for extra confirmation. 

Yea!” Seungmin replies, nodding vigorously. “What are you doing now, and how was high school for you, and just everything!” 

Noting your hesitation, Changbin is about to step in to save you, but your hand on his thigh stops him. Looking at you curiously, he realises from your expression that you’re finally about to do what he had been nagging at you to do since day one of becoming your friend. 

iv.

‘Is it possible for a stomach to burst from too much laughing?’ is what runs through your head as tears stream down your face from laughing uncontrollably at another joke Jisung was saying. 

“Wait, I remember Changbin telling me that people used to refer to you as Baby Photos when you all played at the school shows,” you ask after you had recovered from your laughing fit, curiosity piquing. “What’s that all about?” 

At the mention of the familiar name, the boys let out groans and Hyunjin starts hitting Jisung. “It’s all Jisung’s fault!” 

“Basically, he somehow got ahold of all our baby photos and submitted it to the administration on behalf of us,” Changbin explains, rolling his eyes at the memory. “So if you see our yearbook, all eight of us have our baby photos instead of the actual photo we were supposed to submit.” 

How is that even possible?!

“We still don’t know how he managed to do that.” Chan answers your unasked question, shaking his head fondly at the ridiculous memory. 

At this, Jisung pipes up. “Everything is possible when you’re charming and handsome. You lot won’t be able to relate!” 

And you finally agree that the beating Jisung gets after was well deserved. 

“Restaurant’s closing in ten!” 

The owner of the restaurant, a nice old lady who had a soft spot for the boys, calls out from the back. She had already let all of you stay past her usually closing time, and even gave you some free side dishes, together with a loving chide about how the boys don’t come and visit her anymore. 

The screech of the chairs fill the place as everyone gets up, stomach and heart full from the meal and company. You smile to yourself, glad that you let yourself be convinced to follow Changbin because you had one of the best days in your life. 

“Did you have fun today?” Your best friend asks with a smug smile, already knowing the answer.

“Shut up,” is all you can say—a clear sign that you were admitting defeat. “It was okay.”

“That wounds me,” someone speaks up from behind you, having heard your conversation with Changbin. You whip around to see Chan clutching his heart and wearing an exaggerated hurt face. “I thought we had a connection.” 

“I-you, no, that’s not-what” you splutter, horrified at the thought of Changbin’s, and now apparently your, friends thinking that you didn’t have a good time with them. There was no way you could let them think as such when they had made you feel so comfortable, and have so much fun. 

Your stuttering and horrified expression does it, and Chan bursts into laughter. “I’m so sorry, it was a joke. But your face!” 

The guilt and regret is replaced with relief and irritation, and you smack his arm out of habit, something you always did to Changbin when he was being a pain in the ass. But as soon as you do it, you’re once again filled with regret because Oh my God it’s only been two hours, you’re not supposed to just smack people.

“Stop overthinking it, idiot,” Chan cuts you off, adding in a low tier insult to make you feel a bit better about your reflexes. “We’re friends now; all of us.” 

Friend to friends. Now that’s an upgrade.

You’re about to say something, when you’re cut off by Changbin screeching unceremoniously as he glances at the time displayed on his lockscreen (it’s a picture of the two of you making ugly faces—he refused to change it).

“Shit, we’re going to miss the last bus that leaves from here!” He almost shouts, grabbing his and your things. “Adios bitchachos!”

A snicker or two echoes through the empty restaurant at Changbin’s farewell, together with requests of bringing you the next time they meet.

“Make sure Y/n comes for the next dinner! Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not!”

Jisung earns himself a string of vulgarities from Changbin for that, as he guffaws and hi-fives Hyunjin. 

You’re barely able to say your farewell to the boys with Changbin dragging you out of the restaurant, but you manage to shout out a few words while waving. “Thank you for today! See you soon!” 

The bus arrives just as you reach the bus stop, and Changbin all but collapses on one of the empty seats from the running you both did. 

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re foul.” You’re staring at your best friend in disgust when he starts questioning you about the dinner, nausea forgotten. 

“So…” he starts, pivoting in his seat to face you, cheek leaning against his hand which rested on the seat in front of him. “For someone who was dead set on not coming, you sure looked like you had lots of fun.” 

Rolling your eyes at his words, you turn to face Changbin. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Me making more friends?”

“Of course, of course~” he drawls, smirk ever-present on his face. “And who do we have to thank for that?” 

“And you ask me why I don’t listen to you or ask you for favours.” Turning your attention back to your phone, you open up Temple Run in hopes of keeping yourself occupied for the bus ride back; but Changbin had other plans. 

Whining, he snatches your phone from your hands and slips it into his pocket. “Y/n! Tell me everything!”

“What do you want to know?!” you ask, exasperated. “You were there literally the whole time.” 

“Yes I know, but I want to know what you think of all my friends!” Changbin claps his hands in excitement, leaning forward in anticipation. “Well, our friends now.” 

You can’t help but sigh as you prepare for the long bus ride ahead—but somehow, you don’t miss the sudden warmth enveloping you as you recalled the past few hours. 

“First of all, Jisung and Hyunjin are hilarious, it’s like…”

v.

Two weeks later, and you’re knee deep in shit. Not literally, of course, but you might as well be. 

It’s the infamous hell month in your university, where every student (regardless of major) has a shit ton of assignments and tests to complete, and the library is open 24 hours for poor souls like yourself. 

It’s two in the morning when you’re working on your second essay of the day. There are crumpled balls of paper all over your desk and surrounding your bin, courtesy of your pathetic aim. 

“You’re cleaning everything up later,” Changbin speaks up from across the dining table you both were sharing to get work done, tapping away on his equipment as he works on some new beat. “I don’t expect every ball to go in, but to miss everything? That’s some serious talent.”

“Shut your mouth, Seo.” Flipping your best friend off, you finally push yourself away from the table, stretching a bit before making your way to the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of ramen in hopes of satiating the beast growling in your stomach.

As you open each shelf, you slowly come to the realisation that you were completely out of snacks and food. Even the single frozen bag of peas and empty ice cream tub stares back at you in pity as you scan the fridge. 

Taking a breath to calm yourself, you slowly turn around to face your unsuspecting, so-called, best friend. Walking towards him, you knock the table a few times to get his attention.

He notices your presence, and removes his headphones to look at you quizzically, his full attention on your blank face.

“When were you going to tell me that you had consumed every single food item we have?”

It’s almost comical how quickly the blood drains from his face, as his eyes dart all around the room, skillfully avoiding you. If it were any other situation, you would’ve definitely laughed while falling onto the floor. But this wasn’t any other situation.

This was war.

And honestly, it would have been a war that you would’ve definitely won—if not for the loud sound your stomach just produced.

Narrowing your eyes at the accused seated a few feet away from you, you walk over to the countertop with your wallet, eyes not leaving Changbin for a second.

“I will deal with you when I am back from the convenience store.”

And with the sight of Changbin gulping imprinted in your mind, you slam your apartment door behind you and make your way grumpily to the 24-hour convenience store located seven minutes away.

vi.

The electronic chime sounds throughout the store as the part-timer throws you a friendly greeting from the counter. “Welcome!” 

Reciprocating with a smile of your own, you take slow steps towards the shelf with the various assorted packets of ramen, and your hand automatically reaches for your favourite one. Just as it comes into contact with the plastic, you can feel yourself salivating and your stomach growls in appreciation. It’s a myth, you think. There’s no way food like carrots and asparagus is what gets students through school. The only saving grace you have during this period is packets of ramen and chocolate milk. Countless numbers of assignments and tests are already torturous enough; healthy, tasteless food on top of that? No, thanks. 

Clutching the ramen packet in your hands like it was the treasure of your life, you walk towards the milk section to complete your meal with your favourite carton of chocolate milk. There was something about the combination of milk that combats the spice from the ramen, and you’re about to drop onto your knees right there and then to worship the people who invented ramen and chocolate milk, when you see the last carton being taken away right in front of your eyes. 

Without any second thoughts, you rush towards the person and grab their arm, already getting ready to pull out the sob story of how you absolutely need the chocolate milk to survive. Surprised by the sudden contact, the man holding the carton whips his head towards you, eyes wide. 

There’s a fleeting sense of familiarity that passes through you when you see the hazel peeking out from above the mask that covered the rest of his face, but you’re too preoccupied to dwell on the thought. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to beg, you’re cut off by an all too familiar voice. 

“Y/n?”

Huh?

You stare at each other for a few seconds before the realisation of who you were holding, no, clinging onto dawns on you. 

“C-Chan?”

In a lively city that thrived at night, there were a thousand other 24-hour convenience stores scattered all around in every corner. It also wasn’t everyday that you decided to go to the convenience store for food, opting to go to the grocery stores instead. So, if you calculated correctly, the chance of you bumping into Chan at 2:30 a.m. at that very particular store should be close to never.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of you, chocolate milk clutched in one hand. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oh I came here to water my plants.” 

Plants? 

You’re more than confused, till you hear the soft snicker that escapes his mouth. Narrowing your eyes at his antics, you decide to bite back with a “Ha ha, very funny.”

“So… Are you planning to hold onto me forever?” Chan teases you, eyes gesturing to your hand that was still clutching onto him, before looking back at you with a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Because I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

With the whole bumping-into-Chan thing that happened, it had completely slipped your mind that you were still holding onto him. You snatch your hand away in horror, eyes widening as you feel the heat creep up your neck. “S-sorry.” And before you could stop yourself, you also continue to spill why you had grabbed his arm in the first place. “I was just craving for chocolate milk, and the one you took was the last carton left.” 

Looking back and forth at you and the carton, you start to feel like an absolute idiot, until he reaches out and pushes the carton into your hands. “You can have it then,” he says, and walks away. “Stay right there, let me grab some ramen and we can have supper together!” 

You stare at the carton for a few seconds, the droplets of water that formed on the outside cool against your fingers. On a normal day, you would have refused the milk vehemently, telling the other person not to worry and to have the last carton. But today wasn’t any other day.

And Chan wasn’t any other person. 

We’re friends, after all, is what echoes in your mind as you look up at the boy walking towards you, two packets of ramen in his hand and a carton of strawberry milk. Smiling at him, you finally express your gratitude for his kind sacrifice. 

“Thanks for this,” you say, waving the carton in front of him. “I don’t think I would have made it through the night without it.” 

Nodding with a smile, he tears his two packets of ramen open and pours in the hot water that was situated at the back of the store, grabbing yours from you in the process. “What brings you here at this hour? I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be craving ramen and chocolate milk in the middle of the night on any other day.”

“You’re right about that,” you reply dejectedly, recalling the big pile of assignments waiting for you back at the apartment. “It’s hell month in school, and I’m drowning in work. On top of that, Changbin exhausted every single food source we have at home!”

Chan does his very best to hold back his laughter at your expression; he knew you were angry, but you looked as threatening as a kitten. And thankfully he succeeds, because he really did not want to be on the receiving end of your wrath. Although, he thinks, you really are not going to be able to do much damage.

“How dare he,” Chan agrees, finally taking a seat beside you, the steam from the ramen warming his face up. “Hey but, if he hadn’t done that we wouldn’t have bumped into each other here.” 

You nod your head in agreement, thinking about how to start a casual conversation, when you are suddenly hit with the realisation that you knew essentially nothing about Chan. You didn’t know what university he went to, what he majored in, and what he was doing in the convenience store that late at night too. 

One question at a time, you decide. 

“What are you doing out this late anyway?” you ask, slurping the noodles and breathing out in relief at the taste of the ramen against your tongue. 

“I come here often,” is what he replies, before taking a sip of his milk. “My uni’s about fifteen minutes from here, and I usually work the best at this time. Being a music production major, there aren’t very strict deadlines, but I’ve still got to get my shit done.” 

Oh. That’s all your questions answered. 

You know the trouble of trying to get questions out, especially for you, who has never really made the effort in going the extra mile in interacting with people. It’s annoying and nerve-wrecking, and probably the biggest reason why you refused making new friends. The whole process was just painful. So, when Chan answers your unasked questions, you feel the hypothetical weight lifting off your shoulder, and you open your mouth to express your gratitude. At least, that’s what you had planned to do. 

“Are you a mind reader?” you blurt out, before immediately clamping your mouth shut and facepalming. “Ugh, sorry. I have a really bad habit of blurting out whatever comes to my mind.” You groan at your inconvenient habit, and Chan pats the top of your hand in hopes of comforting you.

“I just meant to say that I was thinking of asking you those questions and you answered them even before I asked.” Chan looks at you with a smile, intrigued by your personality. You clearly didn’t have any other friends other than Changbin—but you never looked as if you were upset about it. It was also clear that you were content with not interacting with people, but when you did, you were never rude about it and you really did try your best. Never in a million years would he have thought that the student scurrying around the library with tons of books would turn out to be someone like you. 

“At least that means you’re an honest person!” Chan says, beaming at you. “C’mon, learn to look at the brighter side of things.” 

Shrugging your shoulders with a tired smile on your face, you turn back to your ramen, which has now gone soggy due to your little chit-chat with the boy beside you. 

There’s a comfortable silence that hangs between the two of you, until Chan speaks up again. “What’s your major? I realised I never asked.” 

At the mention of school, you pull an automatic stank face before replying. “English Lit with a minor in Philosophy. The worst decision of my life.” 

“And why’s that?”

“I never knew there’d be this much essay writing!” you cry out, throwing your head against the table. The rest of your words come out muffled, but somehow Chan manages to catch it. “I mean, I knew there was going to be lots of essays. But not this much.” 

“In the major’s defense, that’s kind of a dumb move on your part, Y/n.”

“Yes, I know. Please don’t remind me of my idiocy.” You finally sit up, before sadly chewing on your noodles. “At least I have ramen and chocolate milk to keep me going.” 

And as the night went on, both of you continued the conversation back and forth, you learning more about him and him about you. You talk about your assignments, how annoying some of your professors were, and how living with Changbin was. All the times you had to chase him to clean up after himself, or all the times he stayed up with you until ungodly hours just because you had procrastinated too much and was rushing an assignment in the last hour. You also learnt more about Chan; how he was studying music production because that was his dream since he was young, and how he actually roomed with Jisung, who was equally as messy as Changbin. The only difference was that Chan couldn’t be bothered about the mess. 

“Changbin, Jisung, and I actually used to make tracks and post them on Soundcloud,” Chan says, smiling as he recalls the three high schoolers cooped up in his room with the bare minimum equipment that wiped out half their savings. “We even had rapper names.” 

“Ooooo~” you tease, nudging his shoulder as his ears start to turn a bright red. “What was yours?” 

“What’s in the past should stay in the past, Y/n. Let bygones be bygones. No point talking about it now.”

“Awww, c’mon!” You plead, fidgeting in your seat. “Was it something embarrassing like Cheminem, or something?” 

“I can’t help but feel more relaxed when your standards are that low,” Chan says, with some form of relief in his voice. “Uh, mine was CB97.” 

“Don’t tell me…” you mutter, eyes wide as the laughter threatens to escape your lips. “Did you really just use your initials and your birth year? Talk about bare minimum!” 

“Hey! It’s better than Meminen, or Cheminem, or whatever you said earlier.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you decide to probe further. “What were Jisung’s and Changbin’s?” 

Chan stares at you with wide eyes, your mischievous eyes giving away your evil plans. “No. Changbin will kill me.”

“Don’t be a party pooper! I’ll treat you to ramen next time if you tell me.” You try tempting Chan with food, with no hopes that it would work. But somehow, you see his resolve crumbling, and realise that you just needed one final push. 

“I’ll get you chocolate milk and two packets of ramen.” 

At that point, Chan regrets telling you his habit of eating two packets of ramen with chocolate milk almost every night when he stays up. “You shouldn’t have given me the milk then!” is what you said while chiding him, and he just claimed that “you looked like you needed it more than me” while saying that he really wasn’t picky about the flavour of milk. 

So when you tempt him with his cravings, he has no choice but to give in.

Twenty minutes later, you walk into your shared apartment, a mysterious smile playing on your lips as you drop the keys into the little holder by the door. It was made by yours truly during a random pottery workshop you signed up for. The shape was slightly off, and the colour wasn’t bright or vibrant—but it worked and that’s what mattered. 

At the sound of the keys clinking in the holder, Changbin’s head shoots up to gauge your mood from your expression. Surely you would be at least a little less angry after your little run to the convenience store, he thought. 

But instead of seeing a blank expression, or even an angry one, he sees the smile on your face and his heart drops. Why were you smiling? The fact that you were smiling made him feel a hundred times worse, and he had already started saying his prayers.

“So, Changbin…” you start, leaning against one of the chairs at the dining table. You weren’t even angry about the empty shelves anymore, but you just could not pass on the opportunity of teasing your best friend. “Or should I say, SpearB?”

And you’re more than content with the way his face morphs into that of horror, as he grips the edges of the table. “How did you know?” he asks, his voice strained and barely above a whisper; one would think that the whole world had found out about his darkest secret from the way he was reacting. 

Shrugging playfully, you go back to your seat and sort out the papers scattered around the table, grabbing your laptop to start working on your assignment again with a full and happy stomach. “Who knows~”

“Y/n, tell me,” he starts to whine, making his way to you on his roller chair. “No one knows other than the boys-”

And the realisation of who the culprit was hits him.

“It was Chan, right?” he asks, already reaching for his phone to scold the older boy. “You must have met him when you went to the store—he’s always getting ramen there.” Typing furiously on his phone, he pauses to look up and whine again. “I can’t believe you two gossiped about me! And it was me who made you both become friends. The disrespect!” 

Finally the laughter you had been holding in breaks out and floods the living room, the sound bouncing off the walls. “I can’t believe,” you start, trying to catch your breath as you continue laughing. “SpearB! What do you do? Impale people with your sharp flow and rhyme?”

“Just shut up, please,” Changbin pleads, plugging his ears with his fingers. “La la la, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He rolls back to his side of the table and grabs the headphones, shoving it over his head to drown out your laughter. 

Your laugh fest is cut off by your phone vibrating, signalling that you had a new text message. Grabbing it, you tap your phone a few times to open up the messages page. 

chan: can’t believe you outed me to changbin chan: traitor y/n: drama queen y/n: i said nth, he figured it out on his own chan: ఠ_ಠ

Giggling at the emoticon Chan used, you unconsciously lean back in your seat as you search your gallery for an emoticon to reply with, assignments forgotten. 

“Who’re you texting?” Changbin asks, having heard you giggle at your phone. He’s eyeing you suspiciously, and you knew it was better to answer him, because a curious Changbin is a dangerous Changbin, and he’ll probably stomp over and snatch your phone to see who you were texting anyway. “It’s Chan.”

“When did you two exchange numbers?!”

“Earlier, when we met at the convenience store.” 

It was right before the both of you parted ways; when Chan had proposed something that was pretty much impossible to turn down. 

“I had fun today,” he said, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other swung the plastic bag containing some chocolates to add to his secret sweet stash. “You said you’re having hell month, right? Hit me up whenever you need an emergency ramen run.” And with that, he pushed his phone into your hands, signalling for you to do the same. 

Smiling to yourself, you keyed in your number into the phone clutched in your hand, saving yourself as “Y/n”, and before you could regret your decision, you quickly added a smiley after your name and tossed the phone back to Chan. “Here you go.” 

The cool metal is being pressed into your hands, and before you know it, you’ve said your farewell to Chan and were on your way back home. 

“Look at you socialising out of your own will,” Changbin states proudly, wiping an imaginary tear as he gives you a fatherly (or what he thinks is fatherly) smile. “Albeit, at the expense of my shame, but if it means my little Y/n making more friends then why not!” 

“Please stop, you’re an embarrassment to me, yourself, and literally everyone around us,” you deadpan, clearing your side of the table up. It was time to call it a night, because God knows you’re not going to be able to do anymore work. “Besides, it’s really not that big of a deal. I doubt we’ll continue talking after tonight. It’s probably a one-off thing.”

“Hmmm I wouldn’t be too sure,” Changbin muses. “I feel like there’s something that’ll come out of this.”

vii. 

Seo Changbin isn’t a lot of things. 

He isn’t tidy, opting to throw his clothes all around his room instead of folding it; he isn’t patient, always screaming at you to “Hurry your ass!” when he had been waiting barely three minutes; and last but not least, he definitely isn’t punctual. “Changbin is my name, and being late is my game” is something you’ve heard way too often from him that it was a wonder you hadn’t murdered him yet.

Changbin isn’t a lot of things—but what he somehow is, is intuitive when it comes to you.

So when you find yourself back at the convenience store at 12:30 a.m., ramen and chocolate milk in front of you as you laugh over some stupid story Chan was saying, you can’t help but curse at how right your best friend was. 

You were reaching the end of your hell month, which also indicated it being four weeks since you and Chan had developed the routine of pigging out at the convenience store at terrible hours. 

“... and he just fell off the tree!” Chan concludes his story of how Hyunjin fell off a tree in high school, words coming out breathless due to how much the both of you were laughing. “Ah, that brings back memories.”

“I can’t believe I never talked to you guys more then,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “It would’ve been hilarious.”

“Someone was too busy with Voldemort,” Chan teases, pushing his nose down flat in what you could only describe as a Voldemort impression. Laughing, you swat his hand away while rolling your eyes at the boy you’ve grown so fond of in a span of four weeks. “Why’d you never talk to us?” 

Thinking back to high school, you ask yourself. Why didn’t you ever bother talking to them?

“I guess it’s just cause I already had Changbin,” you start, pausing to think back to the past few years. “As much as I complain about him, he’s really one of the greatest best friends anyone could ask for.”

It was true; Changbin was there for you during high school like no one else had been, and for that you were eternally grateful for him.

“So you were scared to take any other chances since you already got the best?” 

People always asked you why you didn’t make more friends in high school. Hell, even your mother kept asking, when other parents struggled to keep their children at home just because they were spending too much time out with friends. But the answer to that question was something you never thought about, and you can’t stop the feeling of shock spreading through your body at what the boy in front of you had just so casually uttered. 

You were scared.

“I-I…” you stutter, eyes wide as you stare at the boy in front of you. Chan can’t help the worry that seeps into his face at his words, and he’s starting to wonder if he said anything wrong. “I’ve never ever thought about it. But, oh my God, that makes so much sense.” 

After years of waving everyone who asked you why you never made any other friends away just because you yourself didn’t have the answer to the question, you’re hit with a huge realisation of just why you didn’t want to find more friends. And it wasn’t even you who figured it out. 

This boy sitting leisurely in front of you, skin pale and soft, with messy black hair framing his face that he never bothered brushing away. This boy, who was as kind as he was hardworking, always willing to help out anyone, even with his own responsibilities. This boy who had been readily there for you at the devil hours for almost every day in the past four weeks, always checking up on you to make sure that you were surviving.

Never in a million years would you have expected someone to figure out something that was locked away so deep inside of your heart, and for it to be Chan, out of everyone. The thought makes your heart race a little, but you decide to blame it on the conversation the both of you were having. It was definitely not because of the boy seated beside you.

“Shocking, huh,” Chan starts, laughing slightly as the worry he had felt earlier replaced with something he could only describe as fondness. “It’s a pity though.” 

You look at him questioningly, and what he says next makes you realise a few things that maybe you were better off not realising. 

“We would’ve been much happier in high school with you there. I would’ve been much happier.” 

As much as you regretted not befriending the other seven boys in high school, you were starting to regret bumping into Chan that very first night even more. If you hadn’t bumped into him, you would’ve never spent so much time with him, never realised how great of a person he was, and lastly, you would’ve never started falling for Bang Chan.

viii.

It’s like déjà vu.

With your exams and assignments completed, you find yourself watching the latest season of Haikyuu when Changbin enters the room, waltzing towards your reclined figure. 

“Y/n~” Changbin starts, poking your shoulder to get your attention. “Whatever your annoying ass needs now, it’s a no,” you say without even turning to look at the boy beside you.

“Oh? Even if it was an invitation to dinner with the boys later tonight?” 

And when your head whips to the side to look at your best friend, you’re so tempted to just wipe that smirk clean off his face, because the bitch knew you would have said yes.

“I fucking hate you,” is what you can mutter, before switching the television and throwing the remote to the side, choosing to ignore Changbin as you walk towards your room to pick an outfit. But you’re forced to stop in your tracks when Changbin casually utters the next few words.

“Chan’s especially excited to see you.”

You’re not sure what Changbin means by that, but there’s no denying the increase in your heart rate at the mention of the dimpled boy. 

“What?” You try your best to sound as nonchalant as you could, hoping that your best friend wouldn’t pick up the slight quiver in your voice. But, of course, he wasn’t your best friend for nothing. 

“I said, your little boyfriend’s excited to see you.” Changbin smirks at your expression, stretching his legs out to rest it on the coffee table in front of your sofa. “And it looks like you’re just as excited.” 

Red travels up your neck and spreads across your face, as you sputter at your best friend’s preposterous words. “W-what are you- I- Huh-”

Realising that your little breakdown wasn’t helping your case at all, you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before speaking to the insolent brat in front of you. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you like him, don’t you?”

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, and the first instinct you have is to play dumb. “O-of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

“I will pretend like I did not hear that pathetic attempt of you trying to act dumb,” Changbin states robotically, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Y/n. It’s obvious. So stop pretending and just fess up. It’ll be easier for the both of us.” 

You had two choices now: Either fess up and prepare yourself for at least a thousand years of teasing, or just completely deny it till your deathbed. 

Clearly, the second option was much more appealing. 

“No, Changbin,” you snap with as much conviction as you could. “I do not have a crush on Chan. He’s just a really good friend.”

The knowing look on his face wavers, and you know that you’re seconds away from success. It’s not that you did not trust your best friend with the information of you having a crush on one of his friends. You just did not want to say it out loud—saying it out loud would mean that you were confirming it, and there will be no going back. And that scared you. 

You were scared of liking someone who was way too perfect, and who probably would never like you back. 

So the best solution was to keep your little crush hidden away in the depths of your heart, and slowly get over it as soon as you could. It was as easy as it could get.

ix.

Apparently, you realise, it wasn’t at all easy to get over a simple crush. 

The smell of meat fills your nostrils as the eight boys chatter loudly over the sound of the sizzling of the food. You’re back at the same restaurant, with the same boys, except it wasn’t exactly the same as the last time. 

This time, you had a raging crush on the boy who insisted on sitting beside you, leg brushing against yours every few seconds as he piles the food on your plate instead of his. 

It definitely didn’t help that every time your hands brushed while reaching out for the side dishes around the table, you pulled your hand back as if you had just been burned, ears immediately heating up. 

“Did you know Chan told Y/n about 3RACHA?” Changbin whines to Jisung, making him stop his actions mid-way, meat hanging from the chopsticks just a few inches away from his mouth. “All I heard the past few weeks was ‘SpearB, help me’, ‘SpearB, go there’. It was torture.”

The table goes silent at the new information Changbin had revealed, and all you can do is smile sheepishly as your friends stare at the both of you. 

“These two have been meeting almost everyday the past few weeks to get ramen at weird timings, and I’m pretty sure Y/n has lots of quality dirt on us now,” Changbin says pointedly, completely ignoring the way your eyes widened because why would he just say that?

It already wasn’t easy keeping Changbin in check with his little fantasies every time you went out to meet Chan, and now it was going to be worse because you just knew that the six other boys were going to question you from their expressions. 

You turn to look at Chan, expecting to see the same ‘busted’ expression on his face, but all you see is a guilty smile, before he opens his mouth to speak. “In my defense, I was bribed.” 

“Yes but, you never told us your 3RACHA names even after we kept begging you for weeks,” Hyunjin speaks up, eyes wide in disbelief. “We had to bribe you with a new game for your console, but you just told Y/n after two packets of ramen and chocolate milk?” 

Your heart rate picks up speed just a fraction after hearing Hyunjin’s words, and you can’t help but feel a little special that Chan was comfortable enough to tell you things he refused to tell others. There’s a small smile playing at your lips as you look at the boy beside you, who was now rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he tried his best to defend himself from the accusations that were now pouring out from all his friends. 

Unbeknownst to you, your own best friend was watching the both of you since the night started, a glint in his eye as he catches the way you threw small glances at his friend, blushing every time your hands brushed or when Chan purposely picked out the meat that was grilled best to put on your plate. 

He also didn’t miss the soft smile playing at Chan’s lips every time you laughed at another stupid joke Jisung cracked, head thrown back slightly as you clutched your stomach, or the way his eyes widened every time you leaned a little too close to him to reach for a side dish. 

Fools, is what he thinks when he eyes his two best friends. Fools in love.

The night goes on, and it’s Changbin who proposes a game of who can finish a bottle of soju the fastest to make things more exciting. You already know how it was going to end when you see the soju bottles crowding the table, all screaming the obvious outcome of the night.

“Rule’s simple. We’ll have two people against each other, and the one that loses has to pay their opponent’s share for tonight’s dinner.” 

You notice Changbin avoiding your eyes as he speaks and distributes the bottle, which could be attributed to the very scary death glare you were throwing right at him. 

Here’s the thing—your alcohol tolerance was shit. And Changbin knew that, making you wonder what he had planned up his sleeve.

“Right, here’s the lineup,” he announces, making it seem as if the lot of you were in some world championship of sorts. “Hyunjin and Jisung”—there’s a loud ‘Die, bitch!’ that resounds from Jisung as they both get ready to win against each other—“Seungmin and Felix, Minho and Jeongin, and Chan and Y/n!” 

You were going to kill that idiot. 

Changbin starts off the game with a recap of the rules, and makes sure that everyone has their own bottle of alcohol. Disaster is the only word flashing in your mind, and you’re on the verge of ditching your friends to return to the comfort of your room. 

“Jisung and Hyunjin first!” Changbin instructs, to which the two boys grab their bottles and have a stare-down with each other. 

“I’m gonna win so hard, your ancestors are gonna feel it.”

“Let’s see you try, pretty boy.” 

On Changbin’s cue, the two boys start gulping down the alcohol, and you visibly cringe at the ghost feeling of the taste on your tongue. 

“Are you okay?” Chan whispers from beside you, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s a stupid game. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” 

There’s a grateful smile on your face as you shake your head, letting the boy know you were okay. “I’m fine. Just worried because my alcohol tolerance isn’t that good, and I don’t want to inconvenience all of you.”

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” Chan mutters softly, staring right into your eyes. The smile slowly drops from your face as your heartbeat echoes in your ears at his words and the way he was looking at you. You so badly wanted to look away, not being used to such eye contact, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes it almost impossible for you to tear your gaze away from his twinkling eyes. 

The sound of a bottle being slammed onto the table snaps you out of your little moment with Chan, and you immediately turn away to look at what was happening at the table, taking deep, cleansing breaths to calm yourself. 

On the other side of the table, you realise that Hyunjin was the one who finished his bottle first, now having the time of his life teasing Jisung, who had about one quarter of the bottle left. 

All the boys, except Chan and Felix, were laughing their asses off—Felix was the only one comforting Jisung, while Chan was staring at the table, an unreadable expression on his face.

“There, there. It’s okay, Sung,” Felix coos, patting Jisung’s hair, as the latter sulks at his loss. 

The next two rounds proceed quickly, with Seungmin and Jeongin emerging as the winners. Everyone stares shell shocked, as Jeongin gulps down the liquid with vigour and speed, and slams his bottle down onto the table with a grin.

“There’s no way! I can’t believe Minho lost to a baby!”

“Just because he’s the youngest doesn’t mean he’s a baby, Changbin.” Seungmin deadpans, swiftly moving the empty bottles to the side of the table. “And how come you’re not participating?”

“Someone needs to bring Y/n back,” Changbin shrugs, passing the bottles to Chan and you with a guilty smile in return to your scowl. “And I’d rather stay sober when taking care of drunk children.”

You turn to pass the bottle to Chan, quickly avoiding his gaze when he looks at you. You’re not confident in your abilities to keep the blush down if he was going to look at you the way he did before. 

“Okay,” Changbin cues, making sure both of you were ready with the bottle caps off. “Ready, set… Go!”

You didn’t mind paying for Chan’s share for dinner, you really didn’t. But if there was something about you that was both your downfall and pride, it was your competitiveness. You were competitive to the point where you tended to disregard the consequences of your actions. 

So, your brain doesn’t register the painful consequences of your actions as you gulp down the bottle of alcohol like your life depended on it. You weren’t the best drinker out there, but you were going to try your very damn best because it was a competition. 

With no expectation of winning, you swallow the last drop of soju and slam the bottle back onto the table, when you realise that everyone was staring at the two of you with their mouths open—specifically at Chan.

Following their gaze, your eyes widen in surprise as you see the boy holding an almost half-full bottle of soju, clearly indicating that you were the winner of your little game. 

It’s like a dam breaks, and suddenly everyone’s shouting at the unexpected outcome. Hyunjin and  Jisung scream while looking back and forth the bottle and Chan, while Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin sit with wide eyes and open mouths, unable to process that Chan just lost to you.

On the other hand, Changbin watches Chan with a smirk, which slowly drops when he realises that Minho, who was sitting beside him, was staring at him with raised eyebrows, clearly asking the question ‘What the fuck just happened?’.

Just as he’s about to pull Changbin to the side to question him, you shoot up from your seat, stumbling around almost immediately because of the sudden bout of dizziness that hit you. You fall back onto your seat as fast you had gotten up, and Chan wraps an arm around you almost instinctively, making sure you didn’t fall off your seat. 

The table is back to having their own conversations a few minutes later, as if they weren't just screaming over your victory, with Hyunjin and Jisung having a rock-paper-scissors tournament between themselves, proposed by Jisung who was still sore about losing to Hyunjin.

Alcohol clouds your mind as your head lols back and forth, with soft giggles spilling from your lips. In your drunken state, you register the arm wrapped around you, and you turn your head to look for the owner of said arm. 

Chan looks at you with the fondest smile as he tries to hold back his own chuckles at how cute your giggles were, at the same time being extremely conscious of the way you fit perfectly around his arms. He thanks his lucky stars that you were drunk as he held you, assuring him that there was no way you were going to hear how fast his heart was beating. 

“Oh?” you drawl, squinting at the boy beside you. “Who might you be?” 

And at that very moment, Chan hopes with all his heart that there is no one else who will get to witness what he was seeing right in front of him. 

There are strands of hair covering your face, cheeks red from the alcohol (and from the close proximity to him, but he doesn’t need to know that) and eyes drooping from the oncoming sleepiness. Yet, to him, you were still the most beautiful in that moment. 

“I’m Chan,” he replies sweetly, hesitating for a moment before adding more to the sentence. “Your friend.”

An exaggerated gasp escapes you as your eyes widen comically. Words tumble from your mouth, with hiccups disrupting your sentences every now and then. “Chan? Bang Chan? From high school? The really, um-" hiccup "-cute boy who tutored in the library? The super popular dude? You’re my-" hiccup "friend?”

There’s a light pink flush dusting his cheeks at your words, but he laughs nonetheless while nodding, finger reaching out to tap your nose. “Yes, I am.” 

Scrunching your nose at the contact, you continue giggling when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts the little exchange you and Chan were having. Chan turns to face his friends, and immediately starts coughing when he realises that they had been watching the whole scene with amused expressions. He awkwardly retracts his arm from around your waist, only for you to get up and stumble over to where Changbin was sitting, arms reaching out towards him while making grabby hands. “Changbinnnn~”

You plop yourself onto his lap, arms encircling his neck as you pull his ear closer to your mouth. Used to your drunk antics, he concedes, knowing that he’ll end up with more damage if he didn’t listen to you when you were drunk. 

When he is close enough, you cup your hands around your mouth and whisper into his ears. At least, you thought you were whispering. 

“You have really cute friends, Changbin.”

The whole table erupts into cheers at your words, and you immediately cover your mouth with a horrified expression. “Did everyone hear that?”

“You weren’t very quiet, darling,” Changbin snorts, pulling you up with him as he stands. “How are all of you getting back?” 

“We’re all crashing at Felix’s place,” Seungmin speaks up, tapping away on his phone. “The uber’s about to arrive… right now.” 

Grabbing their things, everyone except Minho, Chan, Changbin, and you, make their way out of the restaurant, shouting out hurried farewells and promises of ‘I’ll wire the money to you when I get back!’ to Changbin. 

“Okay, Minho and I will go settle the bill,” Changbin says, readjusting his grip on you. “Chan, can you look after Y/n for a bit?”

“Sure,” Chan replies, looping your arm around his neck as his snakes around your waist. “We’ll be out at the front.”

The moment Chan leaves their sight with you by his side, Minho turns to bombard Changbin with all the questions that had been bothering him the whole night.

“What was that?” Minho asks in bewilderment, pointing to the door that Chan and you had exited from. “How on earth did Chan lose that game when he’s the best drinker amongst all of us?!” 

“It’s called being in love,” Changbin scoffs, shaking his head at his two friends. “Disgusting.” 

The distressed look on Minho’s face dissolves, and is replaced by what one could describe as enlightenment. “No fucking way. I was wondering why he kept smiling at them like an idiot. That explains so much! Have they confessed?”

“You think?” Changbin rolls his eyes, knowing that there was no way either of you had the courage to confess first. “The only way either of them will confess is if they are drunk.” 

“But Y/n is dru-” Minho starts in confusion, when he stops mid-sentence, realising what Changbin had just done. “You evil genius.”

“What can I say,” Changbin states proudly, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder. “I wonder what’s going on outside,” he mutters under his breath, staring at the door. 

On the other side of the door, Chan finally succeeds in getting you to sit down with him on a curb, his jacket folded neatly under your bottom to make sure that you were not sitting on the hard cement. “I’m tired,” you whine, head dropping onto the warm shoulder beside you. 

Chan tenses up at the sudden contact, staring at the top of your head, when you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. At the feeling of your cheek against his shoulder, he relaxes, and positions himself such that you didn’t have to strain your neck. 

There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you, until you decide to break it by asking Chan a very obvious question.

“We’re close friends right?” 

You lift your head from Chan’s shoulder, almost whining out loud at the loss of comfort, but you decide that asking him that question was more important. Clearly, drunk you had very different priorities. 

Chan just nods and replies with a soft “Of course”, wondering why you were suddenly asking that question. “Why?”

“Since we’re close friends, can I tell you a secret?” The last few words are spoken in a hushed whisper, as you reach out and grasp Chan’s soft and warm hands. His larger hands clasps yours, as he chuckles at your question. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/n. You’re drunk, and you might regret telling me when you sober up.”

“No!” You almost shout, alarming Chan who looks around to make sure no one heard your exclamation. You continue in a softer tone, to Chan’s relief. “You’re my close friend! So I won’t regret it.” 

And the wide smile you show Chan almost makes him want to kiss you right there and then. Almost. 

“Alright then,” Chan agrees, rubbing circles into the skin on your hand. “Go ahead, tell me your secret.”

Giggling, you use your free hand to beckon him closer, your face moving closer to his at the same time. Just as his ear is close enough to you, you whisper out the words that make his heart stop. 

“I think I like you.” 

He freezes in place, eyes staring at the black tar road ahead of him as his heart hammers against his ribcage because of your nonchalant words. He gulps before slowly turning to face you, the person he had grown to like more than he could ever imagine coming into his view. He takes quick, shallow breaths as he continues to stare at you, unsure of what to say. 

Luckily (or unluckily, for Chan), you decide to continue talking, baring your heart and soul to him. 

“It’s like...” you start, trailing off after your first two words, before finding the right words to continue. “It’s like I was always happy in life, but you made me realise that it was possible for me to be happier when you are there with me.”

And the smile you give Chan, accompanied with the words you had just uttered, makes him want to protect you from the rest of the world. He’s not sure if he loves you, but what he’s sure about is that all he wants to do is hug you and never let go, to be there for you every minute, every second. And he thinks that’s enough. 

That’s enough reason to hold onto you and never let go.

Opening his mouth, Chan is about to reply to your drunk confession, when the sound of soft snores fill his ears. 

Leaning against the light pole that was situated very conveniently behind you, you had fallen asleep in the split second Chan had taken to make his move. Your chest rises and falls with every breath you take, and Chan can’t help but breath out a laugh at your timing. 

There’s always tomorrow, he thinks.

x.

There’s white noise playing in your ear as you stare up at your ceiling.

Changbin is seated at the edge of your bed saying something important, you assume. You aren’t listening; your brain cells have decided to go on a strike and replay the scene from yesterday on loop. 

I think I like you.

You want to scream. You want to scream and murder the boy sitting beside you so bad. After all, it was his fault that you ingested that goddamn devil liquid that made you spill more than your guts. 

It was a wonder that you were able to find a friend as precious as Chan, and there you lay in despair, all thoughts of facing Chan again slowly slipping away from your fingertips. There was absolutely no way you were going to be able to see him after the stunt you pulled yesterday. 

“Y/n, are you listening?!”

“No.” 

A hand wraps around your arm and you feel yourself being pulled up, coming face-to-face with your distressed best friend. “Stop being stubborn. Calm down and listen to what I have to say.”

And that’s when you snap.

“Stubborn!?” you shriek, clutching the ends of your hair. “I just confessed to your friend, Seo Changbin. I was drunk, and I confessed my very large and real crush to the person I am crushing on. I have ruined any chance at friendship with him, so don’t tell me to stop being stubborn and to calm down!”

Taking a deep breath, Changbin pulls you towards him, both his hands resting against your cheeks. “Listen here. Stop being a wuss. Yes, you confessed when you were drunk. Yes, it’s embarrassing as fuck. But get over it. You know Chan. Is he the kind of asshole who drops friendship over small things like rejection?” 

There’s a pout playing at your lips as you shake your head, partly due to the way Changbin was squishing your cheeks, and the other half because you knew he was right. 

“But I still don’t want to face him yet,” you whine, pushing his hands away from your face and diving back into your covers. “I just want to wallow in self pity, and hopefully waste away on this bed so that I’ll never have to face anyone ever again.”

Changbin knows that there was no convincing you otherwise, so he settles for sighing and getting up from your bed. 

“Don’t stay in bed for too long. I’ll order us food for later.”

Muttering something under your breath, you roll over and bury your face into your pillow, sighing as you think about the boy whose smile gave you more warmth than the sun could ever provide.

You’re in the midst of imagining how different today would’ve been if you hadn’t opened your dumb mouth when your phone rings and cuts off your thoughts. Reaching out for it, your mouth runs dry when you see the name displayed on your screen.

“Chan :)”

Your finger presses the decline button and your phone clatters against your bedside table as you decide that you are not ready to talk to Chan yet. And you’re not sure if you’ll ever be ready to talk to him, let alone face him. 

A minute after declining the call, there’s a series of knocks on your door, and you shout out a “Go away!”, not wanting to hear anything related to Chan and how you need to stop being a coward. But as the knocking continues, getting louder as time passes, you start getting annoying and realise you have no choice but to open the door.

“What the fuck do you want, Chang-”

You cut yourself off as you take in the person standing in front of you with wide eyes, looking as handsome as ever even with the furious look painted on his face. 

The silence is thick with tension, and you can’t help but avert your eyes, choosing to look at anything but the boy in front of you. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” Chan asks, voice quiet and flat. “I’ve been calling and texting you all morning.” 

“Um, I-” you start, not knowing how to answer his question. You imagined your day going various ways, but this definitely wasn’t in your plans. “Did Changbin call you?”

“I asked,” he starts, walking towards you. You take a few steps a back, and continue walking backwards until your hands come into contact with your dresser. You were trapped. “Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?”

You blink rapidly, not used to this closed-off version of Chan. The usual warmth and softness in his eyes were missing, and instead all you saw was disappointment and anger. You open your mouth to speak, but it wasn’t easy to get the words out. 

“Was it funny messing with me?” Chan continues, not breaking eye contact with you once. “To just get my hopes up and disappear like it all meant nothing?” 

“W-what?” 

“How was it so easy for you to just start ignoring me?” 

“No I-”

“Is that all I mean to you?” And instead of the disappointment and anger, you see pure, unfiltered hurt, and that was enough for your walls to come crashing down. Tears well up in your eyes as you look at the boy in front of you, and it’s like a dam breaks. 

“I’m sorry.” Sobs wreck your body as you wipe the tears that don’t seem to stop. “I-I’m so fucking sorry, Chan. I was scared.”

“Scared because you just said that in the spur of moment and you don’t actually mean it?”

“No, I was scared because I like you too fucking much!”

There’s a pregnant silence between the two of you, and you continue staring at the floor, vision blur with stubborn tears that refuse to fall. And that’s when you hear it.

A chuckle. 

It’s soft, and you would’ve missed it if not for the pin drop silence in the room. 

You slowly lift your head up to confirm if you actually heard what you heard, or if you were hallucinating, when you see it. 

Chan was smiling. 

“Can’t believe it worked.” 

What on earth did that mean?

“W-what do you mean?” you ask, sniffing softly. 

“This was Changbin’s idea. For the record, I was against it.” Chan’s hands come up to rest on your cheeks, his thumb wiping away the tears on your cheeks as he smiles softly at you. “I mean, of course I was hurt and worried. But I just wanted to come over and talk it over like a normal person.”

His smile widens as one hand continues cupping your face, while the other reaches to tuck the one stray strand of hair behind your ear. “He said you’ll never admit things unless I, uh, scared you a little.

You stare at Chan as the gears work in your head, putting the pieces of information. The moment the last piece clicks in place, you stare in shock at the boy standing in front of you with a sheepish smile.

“What the fuck?!” you yell, equal parts of relief and anger taking over your mind. “I fucking hate you!”

And with that you storm off towards your door, Chan chasing after you with apologies spilling from his mouth. But the both of you knew that you weren’t actually upset, which can be seen by the giggles accompanying every apology.

Just as you’re about to leave your room, you’re pulled back into warm arms, and you fight every urge to melt right into his embrace. His arms wrap around your frame tightly, but gently. You feel his strong heartbeat against your back, and it’s enough to make you shiver, goosebumps erupting all over your skin. 

“Do you hate me?” Chan asks, chin resting on your shoulder as you feel his breath tickle your neck. 

“Yes.”

“Really?” Chan asks in amusement, lips against your ears and voice just above a whisper. “That’s a pity then. Because I like you too fucking much too.” 

He whispers the last part of the sentence, making your knees go weak and your heartbeat pick up its pace as it usually does whenever the boy who stole your heart was involved. 

You turn around in his arms to face him, sighing contentedly at how things ended up turning out.  “I’m really sorry about the ghosting.”

“It’s okay, love,” Chan assures you, the pet name inducing butterflies in your stomach. “I would’ve been embarrassed too, if I had confessed to you when I was drunk.”

“I would’ve loved to see that.” You whine at the unfortunate circumstance of you confessing instead of Chan. “I probably looked like an idiot while confessing.”

“Since I’m your boyfriend, can I tell you a secret?” Chan teases, repeating what you said the night before with a little twist. Smacking his arm lightly for the jab, you nod with a laugh, ignoring the way your face heats up when he refers to himself as your boyfriend.  

“I really wanted to kiss you when you were confessing.” There’s mirth in Chan’s eyes as he gazes at you the same way he did back at the restaurant. The only difference was that you knew he liked you back. And you had never been happier. 

“Go for it.”

And that’s all the confirmation that Chan needs to lean down and press his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss, as your hands rest on his chest, appreciating the strong beat his heart was playing. 

You part a few seconds later, eyes still closed as a smile plays on both your lips, before you’re pulled for another kiss, this one more forceful than the one before. His lips press against yours harder, and his arms pull you closer—as close as you could be. You respond with equal fervor, pouring every emotion you have into the kiss, when you’re interrupted by a loud cough. 

“I would appreciate it if I didn’t have to bleach my eyes every time I see the two of you.”

Oh. 

It completely slipped your mind that Changbin was just a few steps away from your room, and you want to crawl under your bed and befriend the monster there when you see the haughty smile on your best friend’s face. 

“I think a thanks is in order.”

Removing yourself from Chan’s arms, you walk over to Changbin, who smiles wider when he realises you are walking towards him. Opening his arms to welcome you in for a hug, he can’t help but shriek when you start punching him everywhere possible.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?!”

“That’s what you get for coming up with stupid ideas to get me to talk!” you snap at your best friend with words that carry no real bite. “Were you that desperate?”

“Clearly!” Changbin replies, exasperated. “It was getting depressing. He wouldn’t stop calling me because he was worried, and you were being a stubborn bitch!” 

At his words, there’s a tinge of guilt that pinches at you when you realise the trouble you had put your best friend through. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say with a pout, burying your face into Changbin’s shoulder. “And thank you.”

“Yes yes, you’re welcome,” Changbin says with a soft smile. He wouldn’t admit it just yet, but seeing his best friend who meant the world to him end up with someone who just as much deserved nothing but the best made him eternally grateful. “Now go smooch your boyfriend. We don’t want him becoming too jealous of the attention you’re giving me.”

“Oh, shut up,” is what Changbin gets in return, as Chan intertwines his hand with yours. Just as Changbin walks out of sight back to his room, Chan turns to you with the biggest smile.

“Now then, shall we go on a date to celebrate our first day?”

“Absolutely.”

And as you and Chan sit on the beach that evening, surrounded by sand and accompanied by the sound of the waves and the soft breeze with a orange hue enveloping you, you think:

Life had never been sweeter.

[space-helen]

Heartbeat

Words: 2586

Pairing: Fox Mulder x Reader

A/N: I hope this is ok!! I really enjoyed writing this :)

Request:  Do you think you could do a Mulder x Reader where the reader has diagnosed anxiety, and the only thing that helps her in panic attacks is listening to recordings of calming heartbeats to the point where she’s almost in love with the sound? And one of the creature’s abilities is to distract people by making hallucinations of their biggest weaknesses, and so in the middle of conflict it makes her listen to Mulder’s heartbeat, making her flustered, and she has to abruptly admit her feelings towards him and her fascination with hearts afterwards or while everything is happening? Bonus points if he or Scully find out she has a bunch of heartbeat ASMR in her search history, and they bring it up in conversation before the actual conflict, making her flustered before anything actually happens. (I also want to clarify, I’m not requesting an NSFW fic since I don’t know how you feel about it, I want it to be purely cutesy and romantic.) - Anon

______________________

The sounds of heartbeats played through the headphones as you relaxed backwards in your chair. You closed your eyes and focussed on the soothing pattern. Even if there was no regular pattern to the heartbeats you’d find them.

You breathed in through your nose and held your breath for a couple of seconds before letting it out. Today had been extremely stressful and your anxiety had been through the roof leading to a panic attack. You’d excused yourself from the situation and had come straight here.

Scully entered your shared office to see you behind your desk, going to her own she put down a file “You look relaxed.” she commented and when she had no response from you she turned to your desk. “Y/N?”

Again no response, the sounds playing through the headphones had consumed your mind. 

“Y/N?” she gently put a hand on your shoulder which had you opening your eyes quickly with a start and scrambling to pull the headphones off.

“Dana.” you could feel the embarrassment rise in you. “I’m so sorry I was just listening to a tape and I guess I had the volume up high?”

“Well you either seemed totally engrossed or bored with it. Either way you were relaxed and that’s all that matters. You gave us a little scare earlier, I’m sorry I couldn’t excuse myself sooner” she apologised.

“It’s ok.” You reassured. “Today has been stressful. All those people-” you started to recount the event.

“Y/N, Y/N please don’t worry about it. It’s the end of our shift anyway you should go home.”

“Are you sure?”

“More than. Go on, I’ll be here a little while longer until Mulder comes back.”

“I don’t mind waiting for him too.”

“No. Really don’t worry. We’ll call you if it’s important, you need a break.”

You smiled “If you insist.” Standing up you moved to the coat stand to grab your bag and coat. “Thank you.”

Dana watched you leave the office and sat back and relaxed for a second before deciding to open the file in front of her. An hour soon passed before she was startled out of her workflow by the phone ringing.

Picking it up quickly she pressed the phone to her ear “Dana Scully how may I help?”

“Dana. It’s Y/N. Can you do me a huge favour?” your voice came from the other side of the line.

“Sure what is it?”

“I was supposed to return that tape I was listening to to the library tonight. Would you be able to? I’m so sorry I would have done it myself but I totally forgot and just remembered now.”

“Yeah sure. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

“Uh.” you hesitated and went quiet “Actually” you paused again “Nevermind, ignore me it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? If I’m out I don’t mind.”

There was a silence “Can you book me out a tape with heartbeat sounds? Anything will do.”

“Sure. Is that all?”

“Yeah that’s it. Thank you Dana.”

“No problem. Get some rest Y/N I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a lovely night.”

The phone call had ended and Dana had to admit she was slightly confused by your request. Standing up she moved over to your desk and picked up the cassette player. Curiosity took over and she was soon pressing the play button and bringing the headphones up to her ear to try and get a hint of what you were listening to.

The sound of heartbeats filled her ears and she quirked an eyebrow. She put the played and headphones back down before ejecting the tape and putting it back in it’s case.

Picking it up she returned to her desk and slipped it in her bag as footsteps approached her office. She turned to see Mulder approaching.

“How’d it go?”

He flopped into an empty seat in the office “We have something big on our hands, and not like we’ve seen before.”

“How urgent?”

“We’ll need to start first thing. For now though get some rest.”

Scully nodded “I will but you have to promise you will too.”

He put his hands up “I will.” he pushed himself to a standing position as he walked with Scully out of the building “How was Y/N today?” he questioned.

Scully smiled and quirked and quirked an eyebrow, she knew how much he liked her “She’s good. Had a bit of a wobble earlier but I think she’s ok. It happens to the best of us.”

“As long as she’s ok.”

“Yeah she is. Actually, I have to go and run an errand for her so I’ll catch you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.” he replied with a smile before parting.

Dana was soon arriving at the Library, she found the heartbeat tapes and looked through them and their descriptions. She noticed your name on many of the checkout lists and picked one that your name wasn’t present on.

She quickly signed back in your old tape and out the new, slipping it into her bag and she continued home.

You’d had a pretty decent night's sleep and were now entering the office. Putting your bag down on your desk you turned to take off your jacket, not realising someone else was in the room. 

“Do I not get a good morning?”

You turned in shock towards Mulder’s voice, he was now rounding his desk to perch on the edge. “I didn’t even realise. I’m so sorry.” you hung up your jacket and gave him a smile “Good Morning Mulder.”

“How was your evening?”

You perched on the edge of your own desk near Mulder “It was good. Dana sent me home and I just had something to eat and went to bed honestly. I was pretty tired. What about yours? How was yesterday?”

He kicked your foot gently with his own and spoke with a smile “I’m glad you had a nice evening. Mine was good and I pretty much did the same. Yesterday was ok, we do have something big on our hands though.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned “Is it really big or are you just saying that? You have a tendency to over-exaggerate sometimes.” you teased

He grabbed a balled-up piece of paper from his desk and lightly chucked it at you “I’ve never exaggerated in my life.

You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a smug look.

“Ok maybe I have but I promise you this one is big.” He emphasised the word with his hands.

Dana heard laughter coming from the office and wasn’t surprised at all to see the two of you together in there. “Morning.” she greeted.

Mulder pushed himself off his desk “We should get a move on.” he gestured to the clock and grabbed his keys “I’ll meet you both by the car?”

“Sure.” you agreed. Standing up you went to grab your jacket again. Regretting even taking it off in the first place, if you’d known you’d been going out you wouldn’t have bothered.

“I managed to get you a new tape,” Dana said pulling it out of her bag and offering it to you.

You looked at her in shock briefly, you’d totally forgotten that you’d asked her to get you a new one, you must have been really tired when you’d called her. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” you could feel the embarrassment rise in you as you took the tape from her and slipped it into the top drawer of your desk. 

“I noticed you borrow heartbeat sounds a lot from the library. Practically every tape has been taken out by you at least once.” she said lightly with cheer in her voice.

“Yeah. It’s nothing really.”

“I’m just interested.”

“I think we should really get going.” You were getting nervous and your words were falling out. Adjusting your coat you left the office and headed towards the car. Dana knew exactly when to drop a topic and knew she’d probably pushed a little bit too far but she was soon following you.

The drive to the location didn’t take long. Picturesque scenery had stretched out around you as Mulder drove. The three of you practically fell out of the vehicle to be greeted by a farmhouse.

You began to walk towards the property when you felt Mulder gently grasp your wrist “There’s one thing you should both know.” he let go and the three of you formed a mini circle. “it apparently likes to project your biggest weaknesses when confronted, it uses them to get away and distract you. Just be careful.”

His eyes locked with yours and you nodded. Mulder was the one to lead the group into the house and made some hand gestures to suggest splitting up.

You slowly walked through the house, your footsteps echoing on the floorboards. The house was run down and abandoned but the light streaming through the windows gave it some life. It was abandoned but certainly not empty.

A creak in the next room caught your attention, slowly creeping into the room you laid your eyes immediately on the culprit. They were incredibly tall and had a rugged appearance but were backing themselves into a corner.

“Hi. I’ve heard that you’ve been causing some problems,” you spoke as you approached carefully. “That’s ok though, we can help you. You might be confused but if you just come with me and my colleagues.”

Your foot landed on a particularly loud floorboard and the person took an abrupt step towards you before slamming themselves back into the wall. “It’s ok. It’s ok it was just the floorboard.”

They started to shake their head violently before stopping and looking you dead in the eye. “Please” you pleaded.

You started to hear a heartbeat and brushed it off as your own, thinking you were getting nervous. “If you’d just come with me.” you took another step closer and the heartbeat got louder and very present in your ears. 

You took another step forward and it was soon rushing away from you and knocking over some of the last pieces of furniture in the house.

You kept your distance but turned with them. “Please just don’t be scared.”

The heartbeat was getting louder and you could hear your name being called and footsteps running up the stairs. Soon the heartbeat was so loud you couldn’t hear much else.

“Y/N?” Mulder came into the room and saw the ‘Monster’ but his eyes quickly found you and he could quickly see how uncomfortable you were. “What is it?” 

The man’s heart spiked in concern and the heartbeat that you could hear mirrored this. As he came closer it became unbearable. You knew what was happening and put out your arm to keep him away from you “Keep your distance.”’

The noise was pounding through your head. Usually, you found it comforting and you suppose there was comfort in the sounds but the amplification of them made them difficult. It was truly turning your biggest weakness into something unpleasant.

“What is it?” Mulder tried to take a step towards you.

Looking at the man you could see the concern in his eyes and the heartbeat became irregular, all you could do was shake your head and step away. “My weakness it’s-”

He wanted to help and his feet were instinctively moving towards you.

“Stop.” you shouted.

The man stopped in his tracks as you walked away “I can’t” you could feel yourself getting emotional, heat rising in your face and eyes getting wet. “Just deal with it.” you called.

“You need to tell me what you’re weakness is.” Mulder spoke.

“It’s… It’s you. Your heartbeat.” You reversed yourself into a corner.

Mulder looked between you and the creature. “And it gets worse the closer I get?”

You nodded and tried to ignore the heartbeat but it was extremely difficult.

Mulder started to approach the monster, there was a screech in your head and the heartbeat amplified more as if the monster was taking it out on you. You backed into a wall and slid down it, hands over your ears trying to gain some relief.

Mulder turned when he heard you sliding down the wall and realised how much you were being affected. Backing up he stood in the corner of the room. The heartbeats amplification lessened and you removed your hands but your eyes were reddened and threatening tears.

“Look. Just stop what you’re doing and come with us. We won’t hurt you, we’ll help you understand what’s happening.”

They took a step into the room. “That’s it. Just come with me to the car and we’ll get you somewhere where they can look after you.” Mulder coaxed

You began to push yourself up off of the floor when you heard a scuffle. Dana had come in through another door and crept up on them and injected them swiftly with a sedative which had them falling to the floor.

Mulder was at your side, putting an arm on the small of your back “It’s gone right?” 

You nodded “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologise I can’t even imagine.”

“Thank you Dana.” you smiled 

“He won’t be out for long, we should get someone to come collect him.”

Mulder nodded “Do you have any contacts?”

Scully nodded and was soon leaving to arrange a pick up

You moved to be beside Mulder “I think I have to explain what happened.”

“You don’t.” 

“I do.” the man moved to perch himself on the old dusty desk and you sat next to him “I use heartbeats to overcome anxiety and … well I’m pretty much in love with the sound. I think it chose your heartbeat to amplify because I think I like you Mulder. What happened there basically confirms it.” you let out a small laugh.

“If we’re putting all our cards on the table here.” he looked at you and you turned to him “I have many weaknesses including losing the ones I love and it used that and also used you. When I was walking through the house I saw bodies on the floor and most of them were yours. I kept going because I knew this he hadn’t physically killed anyone yet but when I saw you in pain and couldn’t have me near you? That really hurt.”

You nodded and looked at your hands “So what we’re both saying here is that we have feelings for each other.”

“I guess so.” he let out a breath “Will you let me take you for dinner tonight?”

You nodded “That’d be nice. I think we deserve it.”

“We do.” he smiled and stood up “I think we should probably get out of here before he wakes up.”

“Yeah, we should.” The two of you walked side by side as you left the property to meet Dana by the car, Mulder couldn’t wipe the smirk off of his face.

“They’re on their way to come get him.” She turned to face Mulder properly “What’s got into you?” Scully questioned

Mulder just shrugged and walked over to the driver's side of the car and slid inside. Scully rolled her eyes “Looks like we’re leaving.” She opened the passenger’s side door as you got into the back.

As Scully’s contacts pulled up Mulder began to pull away. He briefly made eye contact with you in the rear-view mirror and smiled and you flashed him a smile of your own.

Tag List: (open)

Fox Mulder:

[lxngbottom]

Can we get a part 2 to pretty flower? my soul depends on it

Pretty Flower | N.L. (Part 2)

in which neville finds himself being absolutely attached to the reader after their time together.

warnings: nsfw, light clit play, mentions of sex, but nev being adorable

my soul depends on this too don’t worry

—

ever since that night with neville, everything seemed to be blurring together and changing for you. it had only been a couple of weeks, and you made no attempt to even speak to him. you were so embarrassed at what happened, and even more ashamed at the fact that you enjoyed it. after neville pleaded with you to stay, you just walked out on him, giving him no rhyme or reason.

after everything, neville felt so guilty. did he over step? oh god... what if you didn’t really want that to happen? what if he was too invasive? he wasn’t too sure, but it made him burn with sadness every time he saw you, hiding your face from him in the halls.

you definitely weren’t angry with him, you just were too shy. you felt like you had committed some sort of unforgivable act.

when you told ginny, she almost flipped the whole table over in the great hall. she wasn’t shocked at the fact that it had happened, as she assumed that neville had always fancied you, but all at the same time... you had actually agreed to it. you were no longer “innocent”. and that on its own was what got to ginny. maybe the ginger was just... baffled?

“down there?” hermione asked, skimming the row of seats in the quidditch pitch. you nodded you head as people filled in the rows.

you were at a quidditch game, more than ready to support ginny in her first real match of the year. hermione and luna had escorted you, as you were terrified to get in trouble for not sitting in your house placement. when you admitted that fact, hermione just giggled and said, “and they say i’m afraid to break the rules...”

as you three settled into the stands, you saw a familiar figure walking in your direction. your body tensed, and you quickly turned your head hoping that he wouldn’t notice you.

but of course, he did notice you. he always noticed you.

“you guys saving these seats for anyone else?” neville asked politely. hermione shook her head, and he adjusted his scarf as he glanced over at you, just simply waiting for you to look back. but unfortunately, you couldn’t.

you were too ashamed.

—

the quidditch match had gone great. gryffindor had taken a victory, and for some god awful reason, you had agreed to let hermione to sneak you into the gryffindor common room to celebrate.

unusual things had happened as people cheered ron on, including lavendar brown practically forcing her tongue down the ginger’s throat. this elicited a terrible reaction from hermione, and you watched as she exited the common room with teary eyes, harry following behind her. you wanted to go check on her, but honestly, you knew that harry could probably make her feel better than you could. after all, you weren’t great with handling people’s emotions.

for merlin’s sake, you couldn’t even figure out your own emotions.

here you were now, awkwardly standing in the front as students cheered lavendar and ron on for snogging. luckily, they exited soon, probably trying to find some privacy you assumed.

you knew how that went.

you gulped as the whole time you could feel neville’s lingering presence beside you, and you could hear the sound of his voice every time seamus spoke a word to him beside you.

“want me to make you feel good with my fingers?”

“wanna taste yourself, doll? you taste so good...”

“i can’t wait to ruin you, bunny...”

the statements came back in flashbacks every single time you heard his voice. it made your hands shake, and your thighs press together.

“y/n?”

the voice snapped you back to reality, and you looked over to see seamus with furrowed eyebrows looking over at you,

“are you alright?”

you nodded your head awkwardly, feeling neville’s chest slightly pressing up against your back from how packed it was in the common room at the moment.

“yes... um—sorry... what did you say?”

oh god. this was so embarrassing.

“i asked if you placed your bet on weasley, today... if you didn’t, you’re probably regretting that now, huh?” he teased, shooting a playful grin your way. you laughed awkwardly, as you could still feel neville right behind you.

then, you heard dean and ginny called seamus’s name, and he shot them a questioning look.

“oi! leave y/n alone, finnigan!” ginny demanded, walking over towards you, “dean needs a word with you, seamus...”

he rolled his eyes and walked over to his best friend, and patted your shoulder as she returned to the boys.

you were now alone again, and people started to spread out in the common room, chatter of triumph still occurring. but, that feeling behind you still hadn’t faded.

“meet me in my dorm...” you heard in your ear, and you jumped slightly from the voice. he sounded so... angelic. “bunny...”

your thighs clenched from the nickname, and the fact that you could feel neville’s breath against your neck. but you didn’t dare to look back, even when his finger grazed the back of your thigh slightly. and suddenly, he was gone.

for a moment, you panicked thinking about what you should do. you still felt utterly embarrassed due to what happened just a couple weeks prior, but, you couldn’t ignore that familiar fluttery sensation in your stomach as you thought about it.

fuck it.

you waited for a few minutes before walking away, and ginny shot you a wink as you went towards the boy’s dormitory.

“just stay calm... it’s fine—it’s just neville...” you kept telling yourself as you walked up the stairs, also hoping that no one was following you.

the trip to the dorm was unfortunately much shorter than you hoped it would be, and you trembled as you knocked on the door. neville opened it automatically, grabbing your arm and pulling you inside. you yelped at this, and he slammed the door behind you. he let go of you, and you awkwardly stood in the middle of the room.

he loomed over your figure as he approached slowly, looking you up and down.

“hi, petal...” he whispered, sending a shock through your spine,

“hi...” you replied shyly, gulping a bit. he couldn’t help but smile hearing your fragile voice again, as he had missed the simple sound of it these past two weeks.

he noticed your nervousness, and let his fingertip graze across your cheek in an attempt to soothe you, “i’ve missed you...” he cooed, “you left with no reason, darling. i’ve been worried. you haven’t spoken to me, either...”

you felt guilty at his words, but even more guilty for the reasoning.

“s-s-sorry...” you stuttered out, already knowing that he was about to ask you why, “e-embarrassed...”

embarrassed? why?

“why are you embarrassed, love?”

you didn’t know if you should exactly tell him, but you knew he deserved some sort of explanation. you could tell that he was pleading for one just by the look in his eyes.

“what—what we did...”

he frowned a bit at your reply,

“why is that embarrassing?”

you shrugged your shoulders, honestly not understanding the shame.

“it—it was bad...” you muttered, but noticed the shift in neville’s facial features, “not—not bad like that... just—i—well... i don’t know...”

he couldn’t help but to let out a small chuckle from you innocence, as it was somehow still in tact.

“well... is there anything i could do to make you feel less embarrassed? cause—there’s no reason to be, petal. you did—amazing.” he paused before he continued, letting his hand trail down your hip, rubbing small circles into it. “there’s nothing to be ashamed of, petal.”

you looked up at him finally, your sparkling, shy eyes burning into his. your cheeks were on fire from his touch, and you knew that he knew that he had an affect on him.

“i-i-i’m sorry... i’ve just been scared to—bring it up, i suppose. d-d-don’t want to—embarrass you in front of your friends...”

neville didn’t even respond, he simply placed a small kiss on your forehead, and he sent you a small smile.

“you could never do that, petal... you’re too sweet.”

his words made you somehow blush even more, and it was getting to the point where you broke out in a sweat from how heated you were.

“but... i couldn’t help but notice that you were clenching those pretty little thighs of yours together in the common room, earlier...” now, his eyes were dark once more, that sweet boy gone within an instant, “what were you thinking about, bunny?” that’s when those same fingers that rested on your hips came trailing down, and were going up your skirt, making your breath hitch.

“y-y-you...” you responded sheepishly, only wanting to be honest with him. he chuckled, and finally, he pressed his finger up against your clothed bundle of nerves.

you gasped as he did so, “bunny... you’re soaked... how long have you been like this?” he asked teasingly, but the tone in his voice came off as if he was just pitying you.

“i-i’ve been thinking about—you... a lot... ever since—you know...” he hummed in response, letting you know that he wanted you to keep speaking, “i—i tried to—t-t-touch myself the other day... but—i don’t know. it felt... weird...”

even after everything, you were still so innocent. it drove neville absolutely mad.

“petal... you should’ve just came to me. you know i’ll take care of you.” he stated with a smirk etched across his face. his fingers kept rubbing small circles into your panties, making your breath turn shaky and uneven. “do you know how much i’ve missed you?”

you whimpered as moved your panties aside, and ran his finger through your slit,

“please...”

“please what, bunny?”

you were tired of the teasing. you had missed him so fucking much, and you just wanted him to make you feel good again. plus, you simply missed just being around him.

“touch me again. please.”

he kissed your lips softly, but still only continued to tease your pussy with his fingers.

“be patient, petal. i want you to be mine before i make you feel good again...” he admitted, stroking your cheek with his free hand. “would you want that?”

you looked up at him, and could see the pure honestly and adoration in his green eyes. you had never had a boyfriend before, but you didn’t even have to give it a second thought before you nodded your head.

he sent you a genuine smile,

“good. now you’re mine and i can make you feel good whenever you want...”

[spencersawkward]

i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

[linominho0o]

Chapter 2 word count: 1286

“So, what are you gonna do with the power?” Felix asked once independent work time began. “I mean, it seems like a pretty cool thing, being able to bloom flowers. It looked like an effect from a movie or something.”

Chan was watching how Felix moved his hands with a strange affection. He had always assumed Felix was serious, but seeing him bubbly and antsy and constantly talking was a nice change from his usual demeanor.

“Yeah,” Chan said absentmindedly, trying his best to not smile too widely. He collected himself and then responded to Felix’s question. “Yeah, I don’t really know. It’s not like I have much use for it.”

“Well, maybe you should see if anyone else has a superpower.”

“Superpower is giving it too much credit. And I also don’t really want to embarrass myself by doing that,” Chan spoke choppily, and interspersed a few giggles into his speaking, a complete juxtaposition to the always-working, steady aura he gave off most of the time. “I don’t even think it’s worth bringing up, to be honest.”

“Well, it would be a shame if you never got to use it.” Felix seemed pretty insistent on Chan using it for something.

“I guess so.”

Daehwi and Jisung always sat together during lunch, and even though Daehwi and Chan were friends, he had never talked to Jisung before. In the spirit of the friendship that had started with Felix earlier that day, he dragged Felix over to their table for lunch.

“Hey!” Daehwi tapped the space in front of him, gesturing the two to sit down. “Pleasure seeing you here, Chan.”

“It’s been such a long time,” Chan joked back. “You’ve changed so much.”

Jisung and Felix just watched the two of them go back and forth for a bit, looking at each other and back at them in the “I guess my friend is like this, huh” kind of way.

“So, you’re always around this kid but you’ve never introduced us!” Chan said, nodding to Jisung. He was quite scrawny, but nonetheless offended at being called a kid. He didn’t say anything though.

“You two are in the same class,” Daehwi sarcastically rolled his eyes and added. “The whole school’s been introduced to him whether they wanted to be or not.”

The whole table laughed, including Jisung and Felix.

“No, but seriously, this is Jisung Han. He’s a singer, as I’m sure you’re aware, but unfortunately he’s able to be the little shit he is ‘cuz he’s so talented.” Daehwi ruffled Jisung’s hair and continued. “The class clown of the year. I’m sad I’m graduating a year before all of you.”

“Oh, no need to get sappy on us. It’s only, like, the fourth day of school.” Jisung chimed in finally. His voice had a familiar ring from all the times Felix and Chan had heard it in class, but hearing it in an actual conversation was somehow different. “You can cry on our shoulders when you’re 18 and balding.”

“Just because you’re a scrawny little “I skipped a grade” kid doesn’t mean you can treat me like an old man!”

Felix laughed, which caught both of their attentions. It seemed like Felix’s reputation as the king of the social throne had preceded him.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard this one speak.” Daehwi pointed to the small blond boy sitting next to Chan. “I’ve just seen his social media on everyone’s phone, even the seniors’.”

“Well, there’s a good reason for that,” Chan defended, half jokingly but half seriously. “It’s a skill like any other.”

“Well, blondie?”

“I dunno.” He said, and instantly his voice struck the senior and his junior. “I guess, it’s just cool that people follow me. A little weird, but mostly cool.”

“Huh, well you’re very different than what I expected.” was the only thing Daehwi could do to intercept the growing silence.

“Yeah, you’re not the only one.” Felix replied, almost sadly. “But I get it. I put myself out there very… loudly? I just enjoy the dancing and the fashion, but I think my personality’s more similar to the kids at this school than to the people that want to be my friends online.”

“That must be weird,” Jisung chimed in again. “To have all these people watching you that haven’t ever seen you in person, doing regular people things…”

“I try not to think about it.” But the speed of his response told the table he definitely has thought about it a lot. “It’s too much if you think about it for too long.”

“Well anyways,” Chan broke up the growing tension. “Lunch is almost over, but I want to show something to you guys. I already showed it to Felix this morning.”

“Oh? Are we headed to the bathroom?” Daehwi already started dragging Jisung along with him, grabbing his garbage to throw away.

“Indeed.” Chan dragged Felix out with him, making sure to pick up both of their bags.

---

“So you’re telling me,” The four of them were huddled in the accessible stall, just barely able to fit in if they squished each other. “That this just appeared? With no explanation? And now you’re able to control plants?”

“Well, yeah?” Chan looked at Daehwi as if to say “do you think I’d really do this to myself?” He got the message.

“What are you gonna do with it?” Jisung mirrored Felix’s question and anticipation almost one for one. “Are you gonna try and find where it came from?”

“I think I’m just gonna leave it be,” Chan smiled at how similar Jisung and Felix were before sighing and continuing. “There’s not much I can do with this, can I?”

“Well, we’ll just have to keep an eye on it.” Daehwi was watching Chan’s hand very carefully. “It looks like it might have an effect on your hand. Look, it’s turning dry and red.”

All four of them looked down at the hand that Chan had been using, which was, as he pointed out, starting to crack and getting red on his pale skin.

“Eugh… well, I guess I’ll stop using it then. If one dandelion and a blade of grass is enough to make my skin crack then I’d rather just not use it.” Chan rubbed his hand gently to calm himself from the shock of not noticing this.

“What if you trained it-”

“I was thinking the same thing! What if it’s like an endurance skill?”

"And then you can fight crime with it-"

"And reign supreme over the school and the world!"

“You two,” Daehwi lightly dropped one fist each on Felix and Jisung’s heads. “What if it isn’t? What if it just continues to eat away at his hand? You can’t risk something like that.”

“Why not? It’s not like we’re old and withering like you.” Jisung said that and then ran out of the stall, which the other three discovered he had been subtly unlocking so he could run when he made the joke.

Daehwi ran after him, shouting nonsense back.

“Those two are…” Felix said absentmindedly with a smile on his face, his eyes lit up with amusement, especially after hearing Jisung cackle and shout "I didn't mean it!" It seems he didn't make it very far.

“A handful.” Chan smiled to himself, trying not to steal too many glances at Felix. His smile was a treasure to him.

They both opened the bathroom door to find Jisung pinned to the ground, arms pinned and stomach being dug into by his senior. He kept shouting his apologies over loud laugher to no avail. Only the sound of the bell distracted Daehwi enough from punishing him to let him run away.

"Yeah..." Felix said, a little taken aback as Daehwi brushed his uniform off and walked away like nothing happened. "Definitely a handful."

[tom-holland-parker]

Begin Again

Summary: 8 months after you broke up with Peter, you finally agree to meet up with him, but you’re still unsure if he deserves a second chance

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Warning: none

Word count: 1409

Masterlist

Notes: Wow another fanfic inspired by a Taylor swift song (did you honestly expect something different coming from me). Anyway this is Part 2 to “The Moment I Knew” which you can read here. Also shout out to @hommyy-tommy for asking if there's gonna be a part two because once they asked about it I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Side note: If you’re ever in The West Village in Manhattan I 100% recommend eating at Bus Stop Café, they have THE BEST bacon egg and cheese and don’t even get me started on their orange juice. Plus the people who work there are SUPER NICE. I pretty much spend every Saturday in the summer there and it’s really worth it.

You took a deep breath as you looked in the mirror. You couldn’t help but second guess your outfit as you adjusted your dress. “Maybe it’s too much” You shook your head, “I’ll wear sneakers instead” 

“What’s wrong with the shoes I picked out?” Wanda asked, watching as you moved back and forth from your closet to your mirror. “He hates it when I wear heels”, you shook your head again in frustration as you looked through the piles of sneakers you had, “He knows I’m clumsy so he gets scared I’m going to break my bones if I wear them” 

“Since when do you care about what he thinks?” Nat asked as you put on your black vans. You didn’t really know how to answer that question. It had been 8 months since you even talked to Peter. You ignored him for the rest of the school year and spent the summer vacationing through Europe so you didn’t have to see his face. You both ended up at the same college but lucky enough you had different majors and hardly ever saw each other. When you received that phone call last week you nearly threw your phone out the window. You couldn’t stop repeating that conversation in your head. 

“Don’t hang up” He said as soon as you picked up. You took a deep breath, “What do you want?” 

He sighed in relief, “I know you probably hate me right now but-” he paused trying to find the right words. You paced back and forth in your room trying to relieve the sudden anxiety that had built up inside you. “I wanna see you, I wanna try and explain, maybe make things better between us” 

You remained silent trying to process what he was saying. “Hello?” he asked, disappointment filled his voice. “I’m still here” you whispered, “Fine, next Wednesday, Bus Stop Café, how’s 5?”

“Yeah 5 is great” You could practically hear his smile through the phone, “I’ll see you then, bye” 

“I don’t know Nat” You sat on your bed, rubbing your temples in hope that it’ll relieve the headache forming in your head, “I just thought if I didn’t see his face, the problem would go away” You felt Wanda rub your back as you pulled you in for a hug, “Sweetie, sometimes you just need to face things head on”

You sighed, “I don’t think I can do this” 

“You got this kid” Nat said as she crouched down in front of you, patting your leg, “On the plus side you can always kick his ass and he won’t stop you”. You chuckled as you checked your phone for the time, 4:20, “I need to be in leave now if I'm going to make it to Manhattan on time”

///

You’d always been the type of person to take everything as a sign, maybe that’s why you became extra nervous when you noticed the rain outside. Maybe it was the universe telling you this was a bad idea. Happy dropped you off earlier than you expected but you didn’t mind, it gave you time to prepare for what you were going to say. “I’ll call you when we’re finished” You waved goodbye as you walked into the warm café. 

“Still using Happy?” You jumped when you heard Peter’s voice coming from the table next to you. You stared at him for a second, the fact that he was early took you by surprise. If you were being honest you expected him to be late. He stood up, pulling out the chair for you as you walked towards him. “If I didn’t he’d be out of a job” You smiled awkwardly as you sat down, “besides getting my own car would require me being able to pass a drivers test”

“Well you always were the bad driver”, Peter smiled as he sat down, his fingers fiddling with the straws, “I ordered your usual. I hope that’s okay”

You nodded your head looking around the room. You weren’t sure why you had chosen here, it was the place you and Peter had your first date. Maybe after talking to him for the first time in a while your brain subconsciously chose the place where you first fell in love with him. Funny enough it was in the same booth.

“So how’s school?” You asked, ignoring the thick tension that was growing between the both of you. “Oh schools great, engineering is kicking my ass but it’s fun, How are design classes?”

You shrugged wondering how he knew what classes you were taking, “They’re good I hate my professor but it is what it is”

“Alright we got one large plate of fries, one bacon egg and cheese with extra ketchup, one grilled cheese with avocado and tomato” the short waiter places the plates on the table, “and two large cups of freshly squeezed orange juice. Let me know if you guys need anything else"

"Thank you" you both said as the waiter walked away. You sipped on your drink as awkward silence filled the room. The fact that you were the only ones at the café didn't help. Maybe you should've chosen another day, at least then you'd have some background noise to distract you.

"So how was your Christmas?" Peter asked as he took a bite out of his sandwich. "It was fun. Finally convinced dad to buy everyone matching pajamas" you chuckled, remembering how annoyed your father was at your constant begging. "And you? Did May force you to watch love actually again?"

He rolled his eyes, "yes and it's still as boring as I remember". You laughed, "I could say the same about star wars"

He gasped sarcastically, "I see you still have terrible taste in movies"

"I'm just saying" you smiled, "all those movies and not one of them are good". He rolled his eyes, "you haven’t even seen all of them"

"That's because I've seen enough bad ones to know there isn't a good one" You laughed, watching as he rolled his eyes. You always loved to annoy him with your, in his words, terrible opinions. 

He smiled reaching across the table to grab your hand, “I missed your laugh”. You pulled away, looking down at your sandwich, not sure how to respond to him. Peter took a deep breath watching as you stuffed your mouth to avoid the conversation, “Look I’m sorry if I could go back and change it all I would”

“But you can’t” Your foot tapped on the ground nervously. He let out a heavy sigh, “I called you because I wanted a chance to explain myself”

“Well-” you sipped your juice, “Explain” 

“I let everything take over my life, The suit, the responsibilities. I was blinded by everything that I forgot the important people in life and I didn’t realize how much I was pushing everyone away until I lost the person who meant the most to me. Those 8 months were hell for me because i didn’t have you” 

“For months I thought you didn’t love me anymore”, You bit your lip, looking down to avoid eye contact. “No it’s not like that” Peter reached for you hand again, “I loved you, I still love you” 

You looked up, watching as his face turned pink with embarrassment. “Peter-” Your voice was barely above a whisper, “I can’t do this”. You stood up quickly, leaving 20 dollars on the table before rushing out the café. 

“y/n wait” Peter shouted chasing after you, “Just let me make it up to you”. You shook your head not bothering to look back at him. It wasn’t hard for him to catch up to you, you cursed yourself for being a slow runner. He grabbed your elbow gently pulling you to face him.

“Just give me a second chance” he said with pleading eyes. You stared at him for a second debating what to do. If you were being honest with yourself, having Peter back in your life was something you really wanted but you just had a hard time admitting it. You let out a deep breath as you rolled your eyes, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Don't think because we’re back together that I’m not mad at you” You whispered as you pulled away, “You still have to make it up to me”. 

He smiled giving you another kiss, “I think I can handle that”