#i am very repetitive but. SHRUGS.

[nnight-dances]

REPETITION / RARE LOVE

pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content

tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting

warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.

WHAT TO EXPECT

it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)

OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.

SEQUEL OUT NOW!

“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.

“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”

you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”

mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”

“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.

you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”

“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”

you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”

you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”

“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”

“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”

you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”

“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”

“i don't want an answer.”

“…”

"because i'm going to move on from him!"

"..."

“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”

“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”

“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.

—

yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”

you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”

“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”

“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”

yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”

you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”

“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”

“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”

you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.

“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”

“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.

“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”

you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”

“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”

“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”

jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”

he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”

—

“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”

you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”

“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”

you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”

five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.

he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.

“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”

“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”

“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”

you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”

time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”

“zuha, hi! did you—”

“yep, i got your lip gloss.”

you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”

mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”

kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”

“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”

“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”

“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”

“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”

“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”

mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”

“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”

“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.

“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”

“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”

mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”

you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”

“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.

“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”

kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”

jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”

“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.

swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—

you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”

he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”

you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”

you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”

“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”

“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”

“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”

you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”

the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.

as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”

mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”

“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”

he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”

“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”

he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”

—

an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.

the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.

big gyu: u look good

big gyu: kinda basic tho

you: yea i thought so too

you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.

candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.

however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.

you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”

you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.

“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”

you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”

“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”

jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”

you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”

“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”

“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.

big gyu: niceee thats hot

big gyu: u should get this dress

big gyu: pls

big gyu: pls

you: …girl why are u begging me

big gyu: because.

big gyu: you’re getting this dress right

you: no i’d die of overheating in it

big gyu: and it’d be worht it

you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...

you: wtv this one's rejected.

you: i still have another dress to try

you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.

“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”

you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”

“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”

“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”

mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”

“ugh, alright, give me five.”

in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.

“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”

you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”

“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”

“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”

his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”

you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.

“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”

jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.

“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”

“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”

you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”

he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.

as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.

entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.

you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.

you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”

“can i talk to you for a sec?”

you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”

“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”

“but, the others—”

“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”

out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.

you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”

you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”

“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”

you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.

you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”

you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”

sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”

you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.

the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.

sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.

—

the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.

you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.

his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.

“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”

you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”

mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”

you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”

mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”

“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”

he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”

“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”

she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”

you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.

“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"

“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”

he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”

you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”

“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”

“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”

“who’d be the father then?”

your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.

“did something happen between you two?”

“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”

mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”

you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”

“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”

“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.

you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”

after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.

“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”

“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”

“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”

“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”

“don’t be like that, y/n.”

“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”

mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)

“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”

“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”

“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”

mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"

“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”

he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”

you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”

“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”

“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”

he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”

you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”

“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”

“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”

“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”

“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”

“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”

“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.

mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”

you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”

—

“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”

“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”

hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”

the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?

hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”

hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”

“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”

he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”

you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”

“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.

“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”

hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”

“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”

“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”

you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.

he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”

you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”

ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.

it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.

that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.

but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.

“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”

“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”

he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.

“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.

“you’re right. routine is good for people.”

“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”

“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.

“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”

he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”

“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”

“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”

your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”

“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.

“do you ever think we should be more?”

mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”

“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”

it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.

if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.

“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.

you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”

mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”

“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”

“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”

it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.

“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”

this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”

“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”

you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”

“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”

mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.

you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)

he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.

“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.

as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.

his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.

so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”

you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.

he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.

“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.

“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.

he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."

—

mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.

it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.

he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.

it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.

the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.

space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”

mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.

“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”

“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.

maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”

jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”

“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.

“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.

the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.

or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—

you. you’re here.

almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.

when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.

mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.

he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.

“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”

mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.

“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.

you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”

jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.

but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”

the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.

that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.

you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.

“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.

you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.

you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”

he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”

you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”

“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.

“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”

when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.

mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”

but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.

“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”

“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.

you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.

but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”

when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”

and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.

but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.

you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.

“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.

“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”

“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.

jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”

“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”

“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”

“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”

you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.

suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.

your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.

you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.

he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”

you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”

you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.

his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”

mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”

of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.

so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.

that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.

you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”

ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.

back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”

“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”

“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”

“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”

you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”

“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.

“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”

you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”

mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”

you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”

with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”

you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”

suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.

you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.

anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!

[spaghettixdemon]

J Stands for more words than one PT.1

“While introducing his new girlfriend to the team, JJ is automatically confronted with her feelings for Spencer when they begin to get in the way of things"

DISCLAIMER You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Minors do not interact. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read it.

Warnings: Drinking/Drunkenness, P in V, getting freaky in a car, fighting, slight mentions of death, Jealousy??

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

This was originally in my Google Doc but I seem to have lost access to it :( SO I am re-writing it! (I will definitely add more chapters bc omg this is long)

—————————————————————————————————

"Alright anndd finally done!" Emily turned to JJ, clapping her hands together and beaming. Today was a paperwork day, and everyone had been working until the late hours. "These reports are killing me...I've been on the same one the majority of the day..." JJ spoke to Emily with a sigh and a slight smirk playing on her lips. Yes, JJ had been stuck on the same case most of the day, but it wasn't just the amount of work, no. That wasn't the only reason her day was moving so slowly.

Right across from her desk, in perfect view, was Spencer Reid- their little resident genius. His legs were crossed in his office chair, his curly hair fell in front of his eyes, and his long, slender fingers traced down the written report, scanning every word and spreading it within seconds effortlessly. JJ had always been close with Spencer- because of their tight-knit team, their ages, and of course, the butterflies she would get around him. They were the two closets in age at the BAU, so maybe that was part of the reasoning behind her crush, but honestly, she just thought he was very attractive.

So earlier today, when Spencer was talking on his phone nonstop, JJ was confused. Spencer was not a fan of technology, thinking back on how it took Spencer literal years to finally sign up for an email address. So, whatever was keeping Spencer on speed dial on the other line clearly didn't bother him too much. JJ would sneak glances towards her coworker hourly, taking in his body language and how he seemed to be head over heels. He would fidget and spin in his office chair as someone talked to him, he had a faint blush on his cheeks, and a smile plastered on his face. In all actuality, she'd never seen Spencer look so dopey- maybe he truly was just happy right now, but the emotions on his face surprised her.

"Hey lover-boy, what's going on over here?" JJ shot her head down, burying her face in her work. It was Derek who popped the question already on JJ's mind. Derek crossed his arms and leaned against Spencer's desk as Spencer looked up at Derek. Rolling his eyes and hanging up the phone, Spencer set the phone down on his desk. "Was that a girl on the other end of the line? I don't think I've ever seen you so happy to pick up a call at work." Both men laughed as Spencer grew a little quiet, sheepishly shrugging. "I mean- yeah, actually, you're right for once." Spencer laughed as an expression of excitement and shock plastered onto Derek's. "Wow really?" He laughed, a little in disbelief "Congrats man! That's awesome!"

JJ watched as the two guys hugged and discussed Spencer's new girlfriend. Weirdly, JJ felt a pang in her chest of embarrassment...or more like frustration. Why? She wasn't sure. JJ could read anyone within minutes, but she could never read her own emotions that well.

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

Days had passed, and work was pretty much back to normal. Normal meaning JJ wasn't constantly hearing about Spencer's new girlfriend, who he adored so much. It was cute, yeah, and she did feel happy for the man and his newfound love, but it would get pretty repetitive after a while. Derek and Penelope, in particular, would not let up on the subject. It was cute when Penelope giggled and twirled her hair when asking about this girl, but the way Spencer would drop information on her so easily was frustrating.

Penelope beamed, ecstatic over all this new news. Then, looking at Derek, she gasped and clapped her hands together. "You should bring her here! We could all meet her it would be so nice..!" Spencer looked a little uneasy. The few times his relationship did start getting this serious, work would interfere and often kill the relationship. Though, Derek backed up Penelope and agreed it would be fun.

"I don't know guys...That might be a little intense..." JJ heard this and thought over the idea in her head. Meeting the girl Spencer was so enamored by might be interesting...to say the least. She looked up and smiled at the three talking. "No Spence you should totally bring her in! I want to meet this girl!" Spencer gave JJ a hesitant look, visibly thinking over the interaction in his head. He slowly smiled and rolled his eyes, looking at the three before him. "Ok Ok..I'll bring up the idea and if she's cool with it, I'll bring her here next Friday"

Penelope and Derek cheered while JJ sat there, smiling quietly. She clapped her hands together and sighed "Amazing! I can't wait".

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

The week that followed that conversation wasn't a pleasant one. The team had traveled out of state to work on a pretty gruesome case- Spencer, in particular, had a rough time during the case. He should be used to the horrible feelings that came with the job, but it was never really easy dealing with death so often.

The team had thankfully made it back to base Friday, and everyone was exhausted. They spent the day quietly filling out paperwork and trying to unwind as they worked into the early hours of the night. Around 7pm, Spencer got a call. JJ noticed this in particular because of how eager he was to answer the phone. A small smile appeared on his face, and the faint blush was back. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, hanging up the call with a simple goodbye.

Spencer looked around at his friends as the smile on his face grew. "My Girlfriend is apparently downstairs in the lobby! ...I was thinking of bringing her up is everyone ok with that?" The office was suddenly filled with energy again, and everyone seemed to wake up. JJ in particular, shot her head up and looked at Spencer, a little shocked. She had completely forgotten this would be happening...She made eye contact with Spencer and looked a little hesitant as she spoke up. "um...yeah that would be great..!"

"Yes, PLEASE bring her up! I need some fun to distract me from all this work." Penelope popped her head out of her office as she spoke to Spencer. Spencer looked a little confused by what JJ had said but smiled and nodded anyway. He slowly made his way towards the elevator, a bit of pep in his step.

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

Everyone in the office had quickly wrapped up what they had been working on and made their way to the office cubicles to meet this girl Spencer was so into. Penelope pulled up a chair next to JJ and beamed. "Are you excited to meet her?" JJ...still felt very conflicted. Just earlier that week, when they had been solving the case, She was staying in the hotel room next to Spencer's. She thought about how she ran into him shirtless and wearing sweatpants. He apologized and made his way inside his room, but she felt so conflicted.

She wasn't upset that he was shirtless...definitely not...but something about getting caught off guard like that made her blush. She remembered the feeble nerd she used to work with. He was in his mid-twenties and looked so new to the BAU world. Now, the man she saw earlier that week and today was a bit different. He had toughened up more and was a bit more muscular- not to a Derek level, but he definitely wasn't feeble anymore.

"Something like that" JJ mumbled to Penelope, a faint blush on her face. Penelope was about to question JJ, just as an elevator 'dinging' noise saved her. Everyone's attention was on the elevator and who was inside.

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

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Family Matters

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Thor Odinson

Summary: your new husband's brother surprises you with a visit.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The doorbell rings again and you barrel so quickly down the stairs, you nearly topple off the bottom step. You catch your breath and grab the post at the bottom of the banister to steady yourself. It’s a splendid house but you told Loki it’s too big for just the two of you. He didn’t like that so you didn’t mention it again, even though it feels empty with how much he’s not around. 

You let those worries slake off of you and hurry to the door. It could be another surprise! Loki hates leaving you for so long so he tries to fill the void with gifts. Sometimes, they make you feel better, other times, you’re just sad. You’d rather have him there. 

It’s not a courier but a familiar face. Your brother-in-law. It’s official as of one month ago. You’re family. 

“Oh, hi,” you deflate, trying not to show your disappointment. You’re not upset it’s him, you just hate being the one to say, “Loki’s not in.” 

Thor smiles. He’s rarely unhappy. “Ah, that’s unfortunate. Where is off to, then?” 

“Work,” you grumble the repetitive explanation. “Important project or something.” 

“Important enough to leave you alone?” He wonders. 

“I... guess,” you try not to mope. Loki says it make you look childish. 

“Well, I am much in the same boat. Alone,” he laughs hollowly. 

“Oh, yes, I... how are you doing?” You ask. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for coming to the wedding. Really, I know it must’ve been difficult.” 

“I couldn’t miss my brother’s special day,” he shakes his head. “It was a day for love. Wasn’t your fault mine decided to leave...” 

Your heart breaks for him. The day you were married, Frigga told you what happened. A hug fight right after your rehearsal dinner. Jane left before the morning. Despite all that, Thor didn’t show a hint of grief at the wedding. 

“It’s too bad. I liked Jane.” 

“Needless to say, I did too,” he smiles thinly. “Well, I hope I didn’t disturb you very much. I suppose I could come calling tomorrow and hope my brother isn’t too busy for the likes of me.” 

Your heart rents for him. Here you are, a new marriage, a husband to long for, and he lost his girlfriend of five years. You don’t have much else going on, it would be nice to have someone there. 

“Did you wanna hang around for a bit?” You ask. “Not much going on but... this place is eerie when you’re all alone.” 

“Hm, did Loki say when he would return? Wouldn’t mind waiting around a bit,” he suggests. 

“I hope soon but he didn’t say,” you shrug. “Yesterday he wasn’t home until midnight.” 

“Midnight? He would make you wait so long? A lovely young wife like you?” He scoffs. “Well, that is just terrible. I will not commit the same crime as my brother. I’d love to come in.” 

“Alright,” you smile. “I... we could put something on? I was going to watch the new season of the true crime show.” 

“Ha,” he enters as you step back to let you through. “That wouldn’t help being alone, would it?” 

“I guess not,” you giggle. “We could watch something else. A comedy. I’ve been rewatching Friends. For the hundredth time.” 

“Whatever you like,” he slips his shoes off and puts them on the mat. “The only words a woman like you needs to hear, eh?” 

You laugh again, “do you want snacks? I got some caramel corn and gummy bears.” 

“My brother let you bring those in his house?” He wonders. 

“It’s our house,” you face him with a pout as you stand in the broad archway to the front room. 

“Yes, you are correct. My apologies,” he follows. “You know, he only hates those sugary treats because he is weak to them. Be sure to hide them well or you might find some missing.” 

“No, he never wants any,” you continue into the front room. 

“So he wants you to believe,” Thor counters. 

“How about drinks? We got a bunch of wine from the wedding. Some scotch?” 

“I only really indulge in lager and I'm not of the mood for it,” he assures. “I could help with the snacks.” 

“No, no, sit,” you grab the remote and hold it out to him. “Find something to watch. I’m so indecisive I just flick through the menu for an hour.” 

“I will do my best,” he accepts it. His hand dwarfs you own as his fingers brush across yours. Loki’s hands are long, but not as thick. 

You push your shoulders up and spin around to flit off to the kitchen. You scurry away and slide into the kitchen. You go to the cupboard and take down the bag of caramel corn. You pour some in a bowl then grab the package of gummy bears and a box of cream cookies. 

As you come back to the living room, Thor leans forward to set the down the remote. You put the treats on the glass table and sit on the other end of the couch. You only realise then how awkward it is. You’ve never really been alone with him. 

“Thank you. So sweet of you to have me,” he says as he twines his fingers together. “I feel as if everyone has been avoiding me since Jane. I fear I might be a bit... melancholy.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you glance at the TV as it plays an intro to a show you don’t know, “well, how can anyone blame you? You’re going through so much.” 

“I’m an adult, these things happen,” he says. 

“Sure, they do, but I mean, it still hurts. It’s not easy,” you insist. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.” 

“Ugh,” he puts his elbows on his legs and cradles his head. “I don’t mean to bring my dark cloud in here.” He rubs his temple. “Truly, I think I’ve been trying to outrun it but... what else can I think of with only an empty home to go to?” 

“Oh, Thor,” you sidle closer on the cushions. You gently touch his arm. His bicep is a lot bigger against your hand. “It’s okay. You can’t hold it in forever. It's good to feel these things. Once you get through that, you can move on and I’m sure you’ll find the right one.” 

He sniffles and you flinch. He quakes against your touch and your chest knots. You never imagined him crying. Especially not a man his size. You don’t know what else to do but comfort him. You rub his shoulder and he huddles over further and wipes his face. 

His long blond locks conceal his tears as he mops his sadness away with his knuckles. You hum and get even closer, your hand trailing up his back. 

“Thor, I'm sorry. It feels so cruel, I know. Especially the timing of it--” 

He startles you as he leans against you. You let out an ‘oop’ as he turns to embrace you, curling his shoulders and hunching to put his head on your shoulder. You have no choice but to let him. 

“Oh, it’s been awful,” he snivels. “I’ve been so lonely.” 

“Shhh, let it out, that’s okay,” you rub his back and stare at the wall. You certainly didn’t expect the night to go like this. 

He holds you tight as he cries against you, his body heaving. You know Loki isn’t the best for these sorts of things so you’re happy at least he trusts you enough to listen. That’s about as much as you can do. 

“You won’t believe how cruel she was,” Thor rasps. “She just yelled and yelled. She shoved me and—she just kept accusing me.” 

“Accusing you? Of what?” 

He’s quiet for a moment. He lifts his head to look at you, his arm across your back. “Of wanting another.” 

“Oh?” You blink in surprise. 

“I told her no, no, I did not, but she kept saying “I see it! I see it in your face!” And I swore to her, no, no,” He wipes his face with his other hand, “but now I’m afraid she might have been right.” 

“She... who?” You frown. 

His arm wraps around you, his fingers dipping into your side and in a moment, the couch shifts beneath you. You cannot resist as surprise paralyses you. Thor lifts you easily onto his lap, turning you and sliding you to sit on his thighs. 

“Woah, uh, whaat--” You press your hand to his chest. “Please, Thor, you’re emotional--” 

“She was right, kitten, you are so soft, so gentle, and I could not look away. She caught me--” 

“No, no, you can’t-- Loki--” 

“Loki leaves you alone. He would rather work than stay and adore his precious wife,” He cups your chin and forces you to look at him. “He would abandon you...” he leans in as his eyes fall to your lips, “and leave you unkissed.” 

You try to pull back but you’re trapped in his embrace. He squeezes you close and crushes his lips to yours. You squeal and struggle against him, finally turning your head so his mouth smears across your cheek. 

“Untouched,” his hand trails down your neck and you clasp onto two of his fingers, straining to keep him from going lower. “Unloved--” 

“Thor, stop, let me go--” 

He leans over so your back is on the cushion, his arm beneath you as your legs are folded up over his. He is on his side next to you. His large hand comes back to frame your face and he squeezes to keep you from squirming. You tug as his shirt and whine. 

“Thor, please, stop. We can forget--” 

“I can’t forget,” he growls and nuzzles your nose. You whimper and push against his chest again. He is stone, he is unmoving, and you know you cannot stop him. “I will never forget how you feel against me, kitten.” 

[angelyuji]

OKAY SO this one has been cooking in my noggin for a while. you’re dating ford and he lets bill possess him but bill fucking hates you and wants to destroy everything about the relationship so he makes ford do some noncon to you if ykwim 👀💦

RICYTP_O)(+*_&)*Y&T THIS IS SO HNNGGG

tw // noncon, somno, implied billford, bill cipher sucks, ford pines fluff at the beginning thoo

bill most defintely did not get the appeal about you. ford is sooo obsessed with you and he loves egging his bad behavior on, but at the same time, he didn't get why ford likes you so much.

you giggle, sitting on ford's lap, watching him journal his findings. "why write that in invisible ink? it seems pretty important."

he kisses your shoulder, "to keep important information out of the wrong hands." you hum in understanding. the two of you sit in silence, letting your hearts beat together.

"i don't get it." you had just left and bill had decided that it was the right time to question ford.

ford continued working as bill sat on his shoulder, "get what."

"them! your little," he waves his hands. "toy? plaything?"

"partner." ford interjects, annoyed. "they're my partner. i don't take kindly to anyone calling (y/n) names."

bill raises his hands in mock surrender, "fine. fine. i just don't see what you see, sixer." he shrugs.

"(y/n) is.... someone who understands me. they're patient, kind, open, and loyal to a fault." he laughs a little to himself and bill frowns, feeling a surge of jealousy. ford's voice was full of love, every word he speaks of you felt honest and true.

"whatever you say, fordsy. a warm hole is a warm hole" bill shrugs and disappears before ford can retort.

ford is gonna spend all night thinking of ways to convince bill about you and urethra🤓! he's got it!!

"would you like to meet them?" ford moves his queen, looking up to see bill's eye wide in surprise.

"you sure you want to introduce me to your "partner", my muse?" bill mocks, but ford only smiles, continuing the chess match. silence fills the room, but bill's interest in you won, "how would we do this?"

they'll decide to let bill posses ford and meet you, not tell you about bill of course. ford didn't want you to freak out and leave him and bill was happy to play along with ford's lies.

repetitive knocks wake you up from your sleep. you look over to your alarm clock, blearily reading 1:22 AM. "what the hell." you mumble, rubbing your eyes. the knocks don't stop and you're forced out of bed. you look through the peephole and see a very familiar face.

"gooooood morning, cutie!" his voice was loud, echoing through the empty street. you shush him and pull him inside.

"stanford, it's 2 in the morning. what're you doing here." you fight a yawn, trying to sound stern.

"baby, come on, is it a crime to want to see my angel?" he takes a seat at your dining table, looking around your home like it's brand new.

you raise an eyebrow at the new nicknames, "are you okay? you're acting... weird." ford grins, abnormally.

"i think you're just tired." he waves off your concern, "let me stay over, baby. we'll have some fun." his grin stretches across his face, unnaturally. he stalks towards you and you slowly back away.

"ford, i think you should go." your voice wavers as you point to the door.

"noooo, i don't think so." his arm snaps out, grabbing you by the throat. you choke, digging your nails into his hand, "this is the thing sixer was impressed by? you?!?" he laughs, loud and manic. "a weak, useless, human." he spits, anger coursing through bill's mind.

hes soooo sillyyy. you're gonna end up passing out from the lack of airrr and then his original goal was to kill you, but... i mean a warm hole is a warm hole.

you could feel yourself getting stretched, legs held above and pressed against your chest. you hear a familar voice grunting above you. "h-hurts..." you moan, eyes slowly opening. ford's wide smile comes into view.

"sixer was right, you're realll open." he grinds against you. you feel tears stream down your face. he grins, bending over and dragging his tongue up your face. he licked up your tears, giggling. "you'll never forget this face ever again."

afterwards, you're laying there unconscious and bill's like.... damn.... you're kinda fun :))) he gets ford now

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (05/10)

The Challenge

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: new sensations envelop you when you are with Aemond, especially when you learn more details about his relationship with Alys and an unexpected news fills you with nerves.

word count: 6.6k

previous part • series masterlist

new chapter finally!

probably won't be as exciting as the other chapters, however...there is something here going on and I want you guys to figure it out in the comments and we'll see if you are catching what I am👀

the next chapter will be full of drama, believe me, so expect it to come very soon as I'm focusing on finishing writing this story without making new ones and considering I have no more fics pending, just this one🤗

now yes beautiful people, enjoy!

warnings: cursing, language, mentions of cheating.

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen

The sound of birds in the distance reaches your ears.

Today the sky is cloudy, with no chance of rain, the temperature is pleasant and you are thankful that there are no intense sun rays burning your skin when you are outdoors.

You find yourself immersed in your physics homework, sitting on the bleachers of the sports field, where you can only hear the sound of the birds and also faintly the sound of the soccer team training.

You sit in tranquility, undisturbed and unobserved by anyone, when suddenly the sound of footsteps stepping on the metal bleachers pulls you out of your concentration.

You look up and see Aemond approaching, a small smile on his face. You return his greeting with a shy smile and make a small space beside you for him to take a seat.

Aemond plops down nonchalantly next to you, letting out a sigh, then curiously observes what you're doing on your lap.

"What are you doing?"

You deliberately ignore his question and instead, take a loose leaf you had tucked away among your folder, pick it up and hold it out to him, with a gentle yet expectant look.

Aemond takes it and frowns, reading what you've written on it, only getting more confused.

'Pride and Prejudice' by Jane Austen.

'Romeo and Juliet' by William Shakespeare.

"And what is this?"

"Have you already forgotten my conditions of the contract?" you tell him amused, "For every party I go with you to, you have to read one of my favorite books or watch one of my favorite movies or shows," you remind him, "So now, you have to pick one of these two of my favorite books."

Aemond rolls his eye with amusement.

"And why exactly do I have to pick one of these two? Don't they seem... repetitive and so usual?"

"That's what people always say, obviously they know these books by the title and their authors, but how many people actually read these books?" you look at him with your tone full of expectation, "I'm sure you haven't read either of them."

He shrugs indifferently, with his nonchalant air.

"So? There are movies," he says confused, "I haven't seen them either, but I know how they both end. In the end they both get married," he points to the title of 'Pride and Prejudice', "And here they both die together and their families stop being rivals," he points to 'Romeo and Juliet'.

You let out a small chuckle at his witty response, but you are not intimidated.

"Yes but there are a lot of things that in the movies they don't show, so... what will be your choice, Mr. Aemond?"

He lets out a laugh.

"Well, we'll see how this 'Romeo and Juliet' is," he decides.

"Perfect."

And when he least expects it, from your backpack you take the book, handing it to him with your clear satisfaction and he still confused but amused examines the book in his hands.

"Good, then give me the other one at once, because there's a new party on Saturday," he tells you, completely grabbing your attention.

You open your eyes wide and stare at him in disbelief and surprise.

"What? So soon?" you ask with clear irritation and disappointment in your look and tone.

"Why are you so disappointed? After all you come out on top too since I'm going to read two of your shitty boring books," he says as he raises them slightly in the air.

"My books aren't shitty and they aren't boring!" you exclaim indignantly giving him a gentle tap on the shoulder, "And it's okay, I just didn't think it would be so soon."

"We'll just go for a little while. Then we can both go get some dinner and I'll drop you off at your house early. Sound good?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

And as soon as you say that, you also hand him the second book with a good forced look, making Aemond laugh and take that book too.

"As much as I like seeing you with a wrinkled nose, take it off or it's going to stay that way," he says amused, crinkling it between his fingers briefly, making you laugh and you immediately move his hand away from your face.

Then he says goodbye to you, before getting up and heading off to his next class. And also not before telling you that he'll see you at lunch.

And as you watch him walk away, you tell yourself that these little interactions are part of pretending, since after all, the guys on the soccer team can see them clearly from this distance.

However, that slight fear returns to yourself that things may get more complicated than you expect.

Fortunately, the rest of the week goes smoothly, the teachers seem to be in a good mood and the homework is not heavy.

And you clearly continue to pretend along with Aemond.

Both he and you continue to act as usual, he is attentive and affectionate when you are together in full view of everyone at school. His gestures and looks full of complicity make you feel special, but at the same time remind you that it's all part of a game.

You also keep your word with Helaena, taking time to sit together for lunch at break time and occasionally Alysanne joins in as well, where you gradually start telling her about Cregan.

Until the day of the party arrives.

You tell your dad that you're going to a birthday celebration for a class friend, nothing big and everything quiet.

Then you opt for a pair of black pants, low-heeled ankle boots, a strappy blouse in a vibrant shade of cherry and a jacket to complement the outfit. And once you look in the mirror, you feel ready, although the nerves begin to settle in your stomach.

And of course, Aemond arrives promptly at your house.

His relaxed expression and smile greet you before you even get into the car. And driving to the party, the atmosphere is comfortable and calm.

And when you both arrive at the house where the party is, it's not a big, loud party like the previous one. But the atmosphere is full of energy, there is music, people dancing, drinks and cigarettes.

And you together with Aemond follow the same procedure to pretend to be a couple in love.

This time, you both decide to be more present with Aemond's friends. You sit between Trevor and Aemond, who immediately puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him, starting to make conversation with his friends.

And as always, he makes sure you're always included, just like during lunch in the cafeteria.

And while everyone is talking, the guys and Aemond make you laugh, feeling more and more comfortable with them. And as the night goes on, you realize how natural it feels to be next to Aemond, as if you fit perfectly into his world, at least for tonight.

When he at your side looks at you attentively and with some curiosity.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you nod nonchalantly, "Why?"

"Just asking," he shrugs, then lifts his hand and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, "Can I get you something to drink?"

You shake your head.

"I don't want to drink beer or anything like that."

"Then a soda? Or water?"

You let out a small laugh.

"Okay, soda's fine."

"Alright. I'll be back soon," he says then leaves a soft kiss on your forehead and gets up to head towards the kitchen.

He leaves for a moment and you are left talking to his friends, who are a lot of fun and in fact, because of them and Aemond, you begin to understand lacrosse as such, since that's all they talk about, besides their nonsense.

And also about some of the girls they like.

And also in that small moment that Aemond leaves, as you briefly observe the party around you, you see Alys with her group of friends in another corner.

You just casually watch them, you don't plan to give them any attention, but just as your eyes watch Alys, she watches you back.

And you are struck by how she says something to her friends with a smirk of superiority without taking her eyes off you and then everyone in her group watches you and laughs too.

You snort as you look away, as if you really care.

Aemond returns with your soda and only a glass of beer for himself, resuming conversation with both you and his friends, having a good time together.

Time passes and you feel the need to go to the bathroom, so you leave your now empty glass on the small table in the center.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," you announce, catching his attention, starting to stretch a bit to get up.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asks you thoughtfully, "I mean, wait for you outside."

"No need, don't worry. I'll be back soon," you assure him, standing up.

"Okay," he nods at you with a small smile.

With a nod, you walk away towards the second floor bathroom, where you'll mostly take a moment to recharge your batteries before heading back to the party.

Luckily the bathroom is empty and you do everything you need to do without pressure.

Then you take a deep breath, allow yourself a brief moment of calm before returning to the party, wash your hands and mentally go over how you should behave around Aemond in front of everyone.

As you exit the bathroom, just down the hall, you notice Alys' presence in the area near the stairs.

You think about just ignoring her and walking past her, but when her eyes watch you, as if she is waiting for you, a mischievous smile curves her lips and she turns fully towards you, giving you her full attention.

"What do we have here," she mutters sarcastically, moving towards you while holding a red plastic cup in her hand.

You watch her completely unconcerned and walk past her, as you don't plan on dealing with her right now or ever.

"How does it feel to be Aemond's new pet?" she asks with a mocking laugh, planting herself in front of you, stopping your steps, "Or did you just think you could replace me so easily?"

Your heart begins to pound in your chest, but you stand your ground, reminding yourself that you will not let his words affect you, as his expression is filled with disdain.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you reply calmly, trying not to give her the pleasure of seeing you affected by her comments.

She glares at you, before a sly smile spreads across her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says with false sympathy, "I really thought you knew."

You frown.

"He's always done this, ever since we started dating," she says, "When we'd break up, he'd date the first girl in front of him as a pathetic attempt to replace me and make me jealous, so you're not the first and won't be the last, sweetie," she tells you with a fake pout, feigning pity for you.

You fix your gaze on Alys, feeling a mixture of anger and frustration coursing through your body. Who does she think she is to talk to you like that?

"I don't need your false sympathy," you reply with determination, your voice resonating louder than you expected, "What Aemond and I have has nothing to do with you."

Alys rolls her eyes in exasperation, as if your words are irrelevant to her.

"Oh, please," she replies dismissively, "Don't lie to yourself. He's always been like that, he's just looking to distract himself and you're just the last in line," she points out to you irrelevantly, "When we broke up, he was crying like a baby for me, begging me to get back together."

Your heart clenches at her words, with a surge of emotions surging through your chest.

For a moment, doubt takes hold of you.

Did Aemond really do that? Was he so affected by their breakup?

You tell yourself that maybe if he hadn't, he would never have asked you to do this. But this was mostly so that Alys would stop making a fool of him at school by cheating on him, not to get his attention and make her jealous... right?

"I'm not surprised you don't know," she continues to tell you dismissively, "But do you really think he loves you? Please," she snorts derisively, "He'll dump you in a few weeks when I give him the slightest hope because he's still crazy about me," she says superiorly, "Look at you and look at me. I know what he's into and that's definitely not you, especially you."

You try to ignore the stinging pain and keep your composure, clenching your jaw.

"I don't care what happened between you," you reply bravely, even if your voice shakes a little, "Ours is different."

She lets out a mocking laugh.

"Oh you poor little thing, you're so naive."

"If that's all, thank you so much for that vital information for my life," you tell her just as mockingly, walking past her, determined to leave her behind.

But just as you pass by her side, Alys moves along with you and purposefully slams your shoulder and arm with brutality, causing the beer in her hand to spill in a dull motion onto your chest and clothes.

The cold, sticky liquid slides down your blouse and pants, leaving you drenched and shocked by the suddenness of the moment.

You feel the liquid soak through your clothes and a shiver runs down your back. And you look down, watching in disbelief as the drink spreads through your clothes.

Then you look back at Alys, who has a mocking, amused look on her face.

"Oh, gosh, how clumsy of me," Alys scoffs, her tone of voice full of fake concern, "I'm really sorry, it was an accident."

You take a deep breath to contain your frustration, but her words spark a small spark of anger inside you. How can she be so brazen?

"An accident?" you repeat, disbelief in your voice as you stare at her with a frown.

Alys just smiles mischievously, enjoying your discomfort and what she just did to you.

"Enjoy the party, honey. But first, maybe you should clean yourself up," she says before turning away, leaving you soaking wet and clearly feeling very proud.

You don't even know what to do, feeling this way leaves you paralyzed for a moment, until you finally make your way back to the bathroom.

At the sink you further wet your clothes with water, which looks worse, but at least you won't stink of beer.

Drops of beer also splashed into your hair, so you wipe that off as well, feeling the humiliation wash over you and you don't even know exactly why.

But you do.

You look down at your ruined booties too, soaked from the front with beer and water.

The skin on your chest and collarbone feels chuckling from the beer, so you wipe it off too, when suddenly, there's a knock on the door.

"One moment!" you exclaim grumpily, still cleaning yourself.

"Y/N?"

You hear Aemond's worried voice outside.

"Fuck," you curse in a whisper.

"Are you okay?"

You bite the inside of your cheek and let out a long breath, already having the idea that you won't be able to hide this from him.

You were only supposed to come to the bathroom and you've already been late, of course he must have sensed something was wrong and come looking for you.

You leave the wet towel in the sink and open the door, where Aemond instantly notices you and opens his eye wide, seeing your clothes and some of your soaked hair.

"What happened?" he asks worriedly, moving quickly towards you, examining you.

You struggle to keep your composure, but can't, a bad mood overcomes you and you make your displeasure clear.

"Alys threw her drink on me," you finally say, stepping aside to let him go into the bathroom with you, reaching back for the damp towel to clean your skin.

Surprise crosses your face before it morphs into an expression of restrained fury and disbelief.

"What?"

You hiss, looking in the mirror at yourself as you wipe your sticky skin.

"Did she say something to you?" he asks, his voice serious but full of concern.

You let out a gesture of disbelief.

"She said things many things," you say seriously, not watching him for a moment, trying to dry your hair with the towel.

Aemond frowns, clearly annoyed.

He walks over to you and takes the towel from your hands, stopping your attempt to dry your hair. His gaze meets yours through the mirror, searching for answers.

"What things did dhe say?"

You sigh, feeling the weight of the situation on your shoulders.

"It doesn't matter, she just said bullshit," you reply evasively, looking away.

Aemond watches your face, urgently wanting you to look him in the eye, but you don't, you avoid his gaze and are obviously annoyed with the situation, which he doesn't blame you for.

He's annoyed too, because he knew he should have been near you to protect you if Alys is in the same place as the two of you.

He sighs in frustration, feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, watching your soaked clothes and how you continue to clean yourself.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs sincerely, his voice full of regret, "You shouldn't have gone through this. She's totally out of her mind."

You remain silent for a moment, fighting the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. As he looks at you with anguish and regret for not protecting you from Alys' comments and actions.

"It's not your fault," you finally say in a serious voice, still not looking at him, then set the damp towel down on the sink and inhale softly, "Can you take me home?"

Aemond nods, feeling guilty.

"Sure," he murmurs, "But first... you can put on my jacket," he says as he starts to take it off, "I'll be waiting outside."

He takes it off and gently hands it to you, his hand brushing against yours with a gesture of tenderness.

"Thanks," you murmur.

He exits the bathroom, closes the door and you remove your blouse and soaked jacket, leaving your bra down and immediately wrap his jacket around you, zipping it up almost to your throat.

With your clothes in your hands, you walk out of the bathroom and Aemond watches you silently, attentive and concerned, with a sadness and frustration in his eye that he can't hide.

He hates your distance.

A few moments ago the two of you were having a good time and now that Alys has done this... he hates that you are apart from him.

You both return to the party and Aemond doesn't even say goodbye to his friends, thinking he'll text them later, grabbing your shoulder and walking out of the house with you.

Together, you walk to his car in silence, where he doesn't dare to say a single word to you and you don't really want to talk either.

And all the way to your house, that nagging feeling doesn't leave your system.

But is it specifically because Alys spilled her drink on you or is it the interesting information she shared with you about Aemond?

You don't.

But you do.

Aemond tried to talk to you about what happened but you wouldn't let him.

You feel it's something you shouldn't make a big deal about. After all, he and you are not really 'dating'. So before he dropped you off at your house, you just reassured him that everything was fine and nothing more.

Now it's your father who drops you off at school on this day and you head towards your locker, immersed for a moment in thought.

You carelessly take your backpack off your shoulders to open it at the same time you open your locker, but as you do so, a polaroid falls to the floor.

You frown and bend down to pick it up, confused, since it's not yours.

And as you look at it, your heart begins to beat too hard in your chest as you see a picture of Aemond and Alys as if at a school dance or a party, both of them hugging.

But that's not what catches your attention, what does is seeing how there's is a picture of your face overlaid over where Alys' face should be, indicating just that, her replacement, a second place or temporary substitute.

But the thing about you and Aemond is not real.

So... why are you so affected by something you know isn't real?

It's a question that haunts your mind as you struggle to maintain your composure, beginning to tremble and feel your breathing heavy.

You swallow hard and press your lips together, when just then, you hear it...the giggles.

You raise your gaze and in the distance, you see Alys with her friends watching in your direction and laughing, clearly mocking you.

Although your relationship with Aemond is fake, the pain you feel at this moment is real.

And before you can react, Aemond's voice is suddenly heard.

"Hey, I was—

You turn your head towards him instantly and your eyes meet his, but his words hang in the air the moment he sees what you hold in your hands.

His soft expression slowly transforms from confusion to fury as he sees the picture. His whole face hardens completely and he purses his lips.

And sure enough, it's a matter of him realizing what's happening, as he hears Alys and her friends' laughter and looks in their direction, hardening his gaze even more.

"Aemond—

You try to speak but he instantly walks over to where Alys is standing without saying a word to you, taking the picture from your hands.

Your heart beats harder, opening your eyes wide and you want to walk towards him, to stop him, but somehow, you are paralyzed and you don't know exactly why.

Tension begins to feel in the air and you feel like your heart will burst out of your chest at any moment.

Aemond arrives in front of Alys with a determined look, his jaw tense and his fists clenched at his side. Instead of shouting, however, his voice is firm and controlled.

"From now on, I don't ever want to see you keep bothering my girlfriend with your fucking little girl pranks again, do you understand me?" he says angrily to then throw the photo at her.

The photo hits her face lightly and Alys looks up at him, surprised by the sudden intensity of his voice and his movements.

Instead of showing fear, however, her face hardens with an expression of disdain and disbelief.

"Oh, look who thinks he's the hero," she replies with her cynical smile, trying to hide her discomfort behind her façade of superiority, "I didn't know you had to protect your little girlfriend, Aemond. And come on, we were just joking."

Aemond clenches his fists, his jaw tense with frustration. But he continues to maintain his composure, his eye fixed on hers with determination.

"Oh yeah? You were just joking?" he repeats, "And the party thing on Saturday was a fucking joke too?"

Her face tenses slightly at the mention of the party, her smile fading momentarily before her regains his composure.

"That was an accident—

"Yeah, right. Everything to you is an accident, something you didn't meant to do, something that got out of hand. How could I not know about that, right? It's always the same fucking story with you."

She purses her lips.

"Who the fuck do you think you are to talk to me like that—

"Leave me and my girlfriend alone," he tells her slowly and clearly, "I'm not going to tell you again and I don't want to know that you're doing your shitty jokes again," he warns her, making it clear with his tone that he's not willing to tolerate her childish games anymore.

Alys recoils slightly at the annoyance and determination in his voice, her confidence waning slightly.

And before she can say anything else, Aemond turns and walks back along with you.

The students around you are still fully attentive to the confrontation, shocked and delighted by the drama, while you watch Aemond in awe of the way he has defended you.

"Come on," he murmurs to you in a softer, gentler way, closing your locker door and taking your hand, leading you with him away from the watchful eyes.

After what happened, he takes you with him to a nearby empty classroom and once inside, he gently closes the door behind him and turns to look at you, his expression attentive and full of concern.

He doesn't say anything right away and you just bite the inside of your cheek and lower your gaze, not knowing exactly what to say or what to do.

Until he exhales deeply, releasing the tension built up in his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice soft and comforting as he watches you intently.

You nod slightly, though your hands still tremble slightly.

"I'm fine," you reply, trying to sound unconcerned.

He sighs, tearing his gaze away from yours for a moment.

"I'm so sorry. I-I didn't... I didn't expect something like this to happen. And she..." he runs a hand across his forehead in frustration, "It's not fair for you to be dealing with this."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Aemond," you tell him softly and sincerely, "But thank you for standing up for me."

He sighs.

"And you don't have to thank me, Y/N. It was the least I could do. But I promise you this is the last time something like this happens."

"You can't control what Alys does or doesn't do."

He exhales again.

"I know, but we never agreed that you would go through these bad times in the contract."

"Hey," you take a step towards him, your gaze soft as you see the frustration and worry on his face, starting to get upset, "Aemond," you call his name in a calm manner, "It's okay. I'm fine. Yes, the party thing and today was difficult but..." you shrug, "I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle."

Still the worry doesn't leave his face.

"Are you sure? At the party you were upset and I don't blame you, but I don't want this to affect between us. You were distant and now...

His words float in the air and you try to place a small, comforting smile in his direction, though it appears more of a grimace.

"We're fine," you assure him softly.

His gaze reflects a mixture of relief, watching you without another word, then briefly glancing around.

And then an idea seems to cross his mind and he watches you again, attentive.

"What do you say we skip this first class?"

"What?" you immediately inquire.

"I know you don't like skipping classes but just one missed class isn't going to hurt you."

You frown.

"And what do you want to do?"

He shrugs.

"Just talk."

You bite your lower lip, hesitant.

But it's only enough to see the look on Aemond's face and his posture, utterly determined and solely waiting for you, that you finally let out a resigned sigh and nod.

Soon the two of you are sitting in the bleachers, with almost no one around, just the cheerleading squad training in the corner of the huge soccer and lacrosse field.

The atmosphere is quiet and you like that, just like the last time you were here and he chose the book of 'Romeo and Juliet' to read.

And once both of you are silent, just looking around and feeling each other's presence, Aemond decides to speak.

"What did Alys say to you at that party?"

He dares in asking, his gaze searching yours with a mixture of curiosity and concern, while you remain silent for a moment, not expecting that he would try to bring up the subject again.

And inevitably Alys' words echo in your mind, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

And you don't understand why.

You don't understand why you feel this unpleasant sensation when you remember her words.

"Well, she wasn't very nice..." you're silent for a moment, "Actually she wasn't at all but..." you lick your lips and avert your gaze from him, focusing on the lacrosse field, "She called me... your new pet, a new pathetic attempt to replace her."

He frowns, his gaze hardening as he hears your words, incredulous and annoyed. And he doesn't need to say anything, his face speaks for itself.

"She said you did that all the time when you both broke up... you know," you clear your throat, "Going out with other girls to make her jealous so she'd come back to you. That I was just a distraction and that pretty soon you'd drop me the moment she gave you the slightest hope of getting back together."

His lips tighten into a line, closing his eye for a moment and shaking his head, still intent on your words. And you prepare to say the next thing more softly and tactfully.

"She also said that you cried to her and begged her to come back this last time you both broke up."

He snorts, more incredulous than ever.

"Of course she said that."

And before he can speak further, you feel the need to clarify your behavior a bit.

"I always acted with her as if we were a real couple," you clarify, "I wasn't bothered by what she said," what a fucking lie, "What bothered me was her talking to me that way and throwing her drink on me."

"No, no, it's okay, I understand that," he assures you instantly, in a soft voice, "But everything she said to you is not true."

You watch him with your parted lips, slightly surprised and beginning to feel your heart knot.

"It isn't?"

"No," he says more firmly, incredulous, "It's true that I begged her to get back together, but that was a while ago, practically in the beginning of our relationship when it was fun for her to break up and come back," he explains to you, serious and honest with his words, "I was crazy about her, I even grew to love her and gave her all of me. But I was just a fucking child experiencing his first love... and that wasn't enough for her."

His confession takes your breath away for a moment, revealing a vulnerability you didn't expect, watching his serious and frustrated face clearly from what happened at the party and an hour ago at your locker.

You have no idea what to say, not wanting to minimize his feelings from that time nor now by saying the wrong thing.

"It's also not true that I was dating other girls to make her jealous to get her to come back to me, I-I..." he shakes his head, "I've never been like that. And you're certainly no distraction or... my new pet," he says with distaste.

You let out a long breath.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, "She said it in a way that made me believe her. I don't know what I was thinking," you say sincerely, "And I'm also sorry she made you feel that way," you mumble, feeling a lump in your throat.

"Don't worry, it's okay," he says softly, with a bitter little smile and his gaze lowered.

He shakes his head regretfully, as if he's remembering a past he'd rather forget and you feel guilty.

"It's just..." he starts to say, "Why would I want to go back to her if she cheated on me?" he asks incredulously, "She was the one who cried and begged to get back together this last time. And you know why? Because I found her fucking that guy in her car after she told me she was feeling sick and didn't feel like seeing me or going out with me."

Fuck.

His words echo in your mind, bringing with them a wave of sadness and empathy, definitely not expecting to hear that.

You never knew how it was that Alys cheated on Aemond, it only began to be said that it was with a college guy, but it was never said under what circumstances exactly she cheated on him.

You feel a sharp pang in your chest and suddenly feel outraged at what he had to endure, that she betrayed his trust in that horrible way.

How could she do that to him?

You don't have a heart made of stone to put a person through that.

You feel grateful that he shared this with you. It just shows you the level of trust you both have built. And you take a moment before you speak, trying to find the right words.

And the first thing you do is raise your hand and place it on top of his.

"I'm so sorry," you say softly, sincerely, "I'm so sorry you went through that. You didn't deserve it."

"You don't have to apologize, Y/N," he replies gently, accepting your touch, "None of it was your fault."

Then he sighs and you realize there's a weight to his words, a pain he's carried with him for some time.

"It's just... "he continues speaking, his voice heavy with mixed emotions, "Even if this thing between the two of us was real, why do this? Why tell these lies and want to hurt you with her cruel words and actions? Why won't she let me move on?"

You press your lips together and your heart clenches as you listen to his anguish.

"Maybe she's still in love with you," you mutter, trying to find a reason, "In her own twisted way."

He shakes his head, incredulous.

"This isn't love. It wasn't before and it isn't now. She just wants to have me eating out of the palm of her hand, like always."

His words are blunt and make you feel even more helpless about the situation.

And there's really nothing you can do, you can only be here for him, listen to him, support him in whatever he needs and be... his friend, like you've really been all this time, putting aside your facade of a girlfriend in love.

Right?

He lets out another sigh, this time heavier than the previous ones, and then leans against the metal of the bleachers behind you, leaning back.

You think he will let go of your hand, but he pulls you along with him, both of you close, shoulder to shoulder, both of you suddenly falling silent, saying nothing more, just staring at the horizon.

Until he speaks again.

"I don't want to think about it anymore," he says as he watches you and you look back at him almost instantly, feeling his thumb gently caress the back of your hand, sending a kind of electricity through your body.

And you propose the first thing that comes to mind.

"Do you want to listen to music until the next class starts?" you say in a soft voice and he nods immediately.

You take your headphones from your backpack, your phone and settle back down next to him, handing him an earphone and then you play your Spotify playlist with the songs you keep listening to lately.

You don't even know if he also likes the same style of music as you, but he doesn't complain or say anything to you the moment you start playing The 1997, Harry Styles, The Weeknd, Chase Atlantic, Cigarettes After Sex and Lana del Rey.

Until he closes his eyes and suddenly uses you as a pillow, dropping his head on your shoulder, immediately this catching your attention and feeling a strange sensation in your lower stomach.

Despite being surprised and feeling confused for a moment, you do absolutely nothing to push him away and after a moment of hesitation, you slowly drop your head on top of his as well.

He doesn't open his eye or say anything to you, he just settles in better and then you both get very still, continuing to listen to music.

And you can't help but wonder; are the two of you even pretending now?

You honestly don't know.

"We have a problem."

That's the first thing Aemond says to you on a Tuesday morning when he stops by to drive you to school.

Immediately this catches your attention and you look at him slightly concerned, closing the passenger seat door to the side of you and watch him completely attentively.

"What's wrong?"

"My mom knows about you."

Shit.

Your whole body tenses and you watch him with your eyes wide open in surprise.

"And of course, she wants to meet you."

Oh shit.

"B-but...

You try to speak, not finding the right words watching him confused, not understanding anything and Aemond helps you with that as soon as he sees your completely disbelieving and surprised face.

"Aegon told her," he lets you know, "The fucking cunt talked out of turn and before he knew it, I'd already told her everything."

Oh God.

"And what did she tell you?" you ask, feeling a knot in your stomach.

"She wants you to go to dinner Friday night."

He tells you in a soft voice and looking just as worried as you do, still trying to convey calm.

"I told her I'd talk to you about it, but..." he lets out a resigned sigh, "I know her. And she won't leave me alone until she meets you. She's really nice, I swear, she's the sweetest person and... I know we agreed not to involve families but I had nothing to do with this."

Your mind is spinning as you finish processing the information, feeling an unexpected uneasiness and anxiety.

The mere thought of meeting Aemond's mom already makes you feel nauseous from the same nerves. However, you empathize with him, as this wasn't something he planned and it was by third parties who think he and you are actually dating.

But still, you feel incredibly nervous and the day hasn't even come close.

"I get it," you mumble, trying to hide your nervousness, licking your lips, then looking at him hesitantly, "You want me to?"

Aemond averts his gaze from you, running a hand over his face, not knowing exactly what to say to you, as you wait for his thoughtful response.

Until he lets out a long breath and moves a little closer towards you, placing his hand on top of yours.

"I know this is a lot to ask, especially after we agreed not to do this," he tells you softly, "And my mother is insistent, I do want you to meet her, but... if you don't want to do it, it's totally fine with me," he assures you, "The least I want to do is pressure you into doing something you're not comfortable with."

His words comfort you a little, but you still feel the nervousness wash over you, as well as feel a slight pang of guilt.

You bite your lower lip, struggling with your own emotions and thoughts.

"It's just that I feel remorseful that I'm going to meet her and she's going to meet me when this isn't real," you say in a sad, worried tone.

"I know," he says with compression, holding his hand tighter with yours, "Me too but you won't have to do this again. I'll take care of it, I promise."

You let out a long breath you too, lowering your gaze to the clasped hands in your lap as you feel Aemond's attentive and concerned gaze on you.

"All right," you finally reply, "If it's important to you and your mother, I'll handle it."

"Are you sure? You can tell me no and I'll understand."

"No, don't worry," you assure him, "I will."

He smiles softly at you with gratitude, but also with a hint of concern in his eye.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it."

And despite your own misgivings, you return the small smile.

"It's okay, really. I just... need a little time to think."

Aemond nods, understanding.

"Sure."

general taglist:

[valardohaeriss]

Picture you (1) - C.S

Hello! As promised, I am starting this modern au.

Yes all of my works are named after songs.

warnings: none?

Pairing: Modern au! Cregan Stark x Reader

enjoy!!!!

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

It wasn't that Cregan wasn't smart, it's that this class was hard. Unfortunately, he needed to pass this class to be deemed a senior. He was ready to be out of university, he's been here for far too long. You can only study environmental science for too long. What else was there for him to learn? He was at the point where everything was starting to feel repetitive.

Cregan found his seat somewhere towards the back, the man was tall. If he even tried to sit in the front, nobody would be able to see over his stature. Students started shuffling through and Cregan paid no attention until his thoughts were interrupted by a question. "Is anyone sitting here?" you asked grabbing the chair.

He looked up and shook his head. "no, it's all yours." You took the seat and grabbed everything you needed. Pens, notebooks, ETC.... Cregan felt so underprepared next to you. He had nothing but his usual pencil and composition notebook. It got him through four years already, it never failed him. He was on the simpler side of studying and school work, but compared to you, he had nothing.

"Do you always bring this much to class? How does this work for you?" he asked you. You shrugged. You didn't know why you needed so much, but it made you feel completed and organized. "I think it makes me feel organized. But truth be told, I probably don't need it. I think it's just the structure that feels good about it." you rambled on. You realized you were rambling and quickly trailed off into silence.

He was honestly taking a mental note. Anything to help him stay organized would probably help him. "So what do you study?" He asked. You didn't know why he was holding such conversation with you, but you weren't complaining. He seemed nice. You told him your major and that you too were due to graduate soon.

Class went on and your professor was very monotone. You peeked out of the corner of your eye to see Cregan starting to zone out. You nudged him with your elbow and pointed to the professor with your pen. "Sorry." he whispered. He then realized, he was lost in the lecture. What were you guys even discussing? It was too late though, class was being dismissed.

You started to pack your things and threw your bag over your shoulder. "Hey, I hate to ask you this, but you wouldn't mind like refreshing me on what we talked about today? You can't help but to fall asleep at the sound of his voice." He didn't know where you were walking, he just followed. "Yeah that's fine, I mean how do you want the notes? Email, text, shared?" you offered all of the options.

You saw his eyebrows furrow and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I was actually wondering if you could like verbally tell me what we spoke about and I can then write the notes? I'm just an auditory learner." he explained. An auditory learner who fell asleep at the sound of the professor's voice. What an interesting conundrum, however you agreed.

"What's a good time for you? and where?" you ask. "Tonight? just so I can keep it fresh on the brain? I don't want to fall too far behind. And either my place or yours, wherever is comfortable for you?" He suggested. It sounded like an okay plan, except for one thing...you didn't know each other's names.

You reached your hand out to shake his and smiled "I realized that we didn't know each others names. Before I invited you to my home, I figured we should know who each other is. I'm y/n." you introduced yourself. He smiled and shook your hand in return. "Cregan, right, so, here's my contact information just in case things change. But just let me know. I'll see you later, yeah?" He reassured himself after introductions. You confirmed and went about your way for the day.

-------

7:30 rolled around and you heard a knock at your door. You wore some casual clothes, not really caring what you looked like in the comfort of your own home. You opened the door to find Cregan at the door with his backpack and some food. "I hope you like curry." he says as you let him in. He had his hair pulled back all the way, save a couple of strands in the front. You hadn't seen all of his face like this, he may have been a stranger, but you weren't complaining.

"are you a eat on the couch person or at the table person?" he asks aimlessly holding food and books in his hands. "The couch is fine. Mi casa es tu casa." he furrowed his brows and then it hit him. You wondered what his grade was in Spanish... or if he took another language. You grabbed some utensils and plates for the food and your phone. "So where shall we begin?" you ask prompting the studies, but you couldn't even get an answer by how much Cregan stuffed his face.

You stifled a giggle and watched the tv and ate as Cregan did. Obviously finishing much faster than you, he washed his face and hands and returned back to the couch. "Sorry, I was starved." He said and subconsciously rubbed his belly. You shrugged it off and set the rest of your food to the side. "You're fine, eat, your brain needs it. Actually it's good you brought food, certain foods are brain food."

"Is curry brain food?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged not knowing, but you did let him know that peppermint and salmon was a great option too.

Hours went by and you actually got to see how smart he actually was. He was engaged in the studying, questioning every other topic almost. Organizing his notes like you showed him. He didn't really need you, he just needed organization. He started to pack up his things and you went to your room for a second. Coming back with a notebook separated by sections, you handed it to him. "it's good to have things separated by subject. You'll need this."

He smiled taking it from you and putting it into his own bag. "Hey, thanks for tonight. I really needed it. I'll see you in class." He said before leaving. It felt good to help someone, something told you you'd be seeing him more often.

----

Weeks went by, you always sat in your normal seat next to Cregan, also to make sure that he was paying attention as well. In class, your phone kept vibrating, text after text came through. Cregan couldn't help but avert his attention to the text on your phone "who are you taking to formal?" he smirked and looked at you from the side of his eyes. "Who are you taking to formal?" he asks as your class dismissed?

"hmm? oh nobody, I'm probably not even going to go. Baela keeps asking me because Jace is going. You guys are friends too, right?" it was true, he and Jace had known each other and we're pretty close. "Yeah, but he and Baela are going. So, who's the guy you're going with?" he asks.

lie, just lie

You didn't want to tell him that you had grown feelings for him over these weeks. You didn't want to tell him that it was him that you wished would ask you. So you wouldn't.

"He doesn't feel the same way, so, it's fine. I'll just stay home." Cregan halted you. "no way, you feel this way about him...then we're gonna help him see you at this formal. I'll be your wingman." he offered with a proud smile.

What mess did you just get yourself into?

[monster-disaster]

Request for a Grotesque? (Gargoyle is the popular name, but not the correct name).

It’s been a long time since I’ve read a lot of your stories, so please forgive me if I’m repetitive with plots you’ve already done.

Can you make him have DILF energy? Not an actual man with kids or an ex, just a man who’s good with kids, and is on the older side of course. I’m in desperate need of a very affectionate and gentle lover who just wants to overwhelmingly dote and take care of his future wifey. Is being someone’s baby girl too much to ask? T^T I can’t really handle super dominant and aggressive lover types. Like being ridiculously sweet, indulgent, intelligent, and manipulative is such a better archetype to get the girl. Bro don’t hit me in the bedroom. I’m delicate and bruise super easily.

Male x Female reader, if that’s not too much to ask :)

Thanks love!

Gods, I really need a boyfriend like that right now. I hope you will like it! :)

gargoyle/grotesque x Reader Warnings: smut

There is a slight pain at the back of your head. It throbs in sync with your pulse, making you scowl at the screen. The document stares back at you with bright, white lights. The long rows of black text become blurry for a second, and you need to close your eyes to stop yourself from tearing up. "Did you drink enough water?"

The sudden voice makes you jump with a startled gasp. In the process, you push yourself away from your desk, and you need to grab onto the wooden edge. Your eyes snap open, staring at the entrance of your office. "Garog," you say his name, watching him approach you. He is still in his work clothes with a paper bag in his hand. The scent of your favorite takeout fills your nostrils when he puts it on the table in favor of focusing on you. "Did you drink enough water?" He asks again, slipping his thick fingers to the back of your neck, drawing small circles on your tense muscles. A relieved breath leaves your lips at the feeling. You hum. "You can't solve everything with water," you tell him. Garog chuckles, reaching into the bag to put a bottle of water in front of you. "Are you sure about it?" "Thank you," you reply, reaching out for the bottle. You know the gargoyle won't leave you alone until you drink at least a few sips. He massages your neck and shoulders the whole time while you do so. "And eat too," he says after a while, stepping away to grab a chair and put it next to you. The thing creaks under his weight. "It's still warm." "I thought you were at home," you tell him while he is busy with the plastic containers. He shrugs. "I was," he says. "Then I called you twice, and when you didn't answer, I thought you had a rough day." "Did you call?" You ask, wanting to reach for your phone, but Gargog stops you with a gentle smile. "I'm sorry." "It's fine, love," he says. "As I said, I knew you had a busy day." Silence settles between you two while you openly stare at him. He is broad with sharp edges and gray sideburns. His nose is crooked, and you can barely see the color of his eyes when he smiles at you. The grayish shade of his skin seems lighter under the office lights. "Do you need anything else?" He asks. "No," you reply, a bit dreamily. "Sometimes I just forget how lucky I am." He grins at you before leaning down to kiss your lips. It's short and chaste. "I am the lucky one."

You could argue with him but decide against it.

For a while, both of you say nothing and just enjoy the calmness of your office while eating. Every bite and sip of water reminds you that eating and drinking weren't in your priorities today.

You glance at Garog from the corner of your eye. Damn, you really are lucky.

"I can throw them out," you tell Garog after your late dinner when he stands up to clean up your desk. "I want to make some coffee anyway." He frowns at you. "You shouldn't drink coffee this late." With a tired sigh, you lean back on your chair, massaging the side of your head in circles. "You still hurt, huh?" He asks, coming back to your side to rake his fingers through your hair. Your eyes fall shut immediately. "It will be fine," you tell him. "It's not that bad anymore, thanks to you." "My poor baby," he coos, and you laugh at his tone. "But lucky you, I know how we can get rid of it." "Water? Sleep?" You guess, still enjoying his caresses with closed eyes. "Those too," Garog agrees with something in his voice that makes you look up at him. He towers over you with wide shoulders and his wings that peek out from behind him. Your fingertips tingle with the urge to touch them. "But later. Now, I have something else in my mind." You know the heated glint in his eyes too well. He doesn't even have to say or do anything, and your body reacts immediately. "Here?" You ask him, shocked. "What if someone comes in?" You glance at the closed door a few meters away. Garog scoffs at your worry, pulling on your chair to separate you from your desk. "Nobody is here anymore, Y/N," he replies. "You are the only one still working." "Oh." He is right. "Do you trust me?" You almost frown, hearing his question. "Of course." "Then let me have my dessert, love." Something warm and giddy lits in your stomach as you laugh. "It was horrible." "It was not," he grins, getting rid of your pants and panties with one swift motion. "Are you really laughing at me?" He asks, amused. "No," you lie. "At least not for long," Garog grins at you wolfishly, settling on his knees between your legs. Whatever you wanted to say a few moments ago is long forgotten.

His hands are firm but gentle on your legs as he slides them up to your inner thighs, opening you up even more in front of his hungry eyes. "You are already wet," he states, running his thumb over your pussy, gathering your slickness on the tip of his finger. Your stomach flutters with excitement and anticipation. The muscles of your thighs almost hurt in the wide spread you keep them to give enough space for the gargoyle. "Garog," you breath out his name, impatient.

Your hectic day and the bright light of your laptop are forgotten. The only thing that still exists in your world right now is Garog, kneeling and leaning closer to your center. His breath fans over your slit, making you clench around nothing. And you don't have to wait for long to feel his tongue swipe over your wetness. "Fuck!" You groan, letting your head fall against the headrest of your chair. Your nails dig into the leather. He grunts something you don't understand, but to be honest, you don't even care. The rumble of his words surges through your body, searing over your nerves and veins. Your back arches when his tongue runs along your slit, flicking your clit repeatedly until you are a panting mess. Your fingers rake through his hair, keeping him against your pussy. "Oh!" Garog's lips close around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth with fever. You feel like a raw nerve, ready to burst. "Don't!' You cry, tightening your hold on his hair when he moves lower to bully your aching hole. "Please!" He hums again in answer, smiling into your pussy for a moment before returning to your clit. Electricity pumps your blood down to your center, and you writhe under him while pleasure builds in your belly. "There!" You mewl into the quiet office, filled with your moans. "Please! Garog!" His tongue rolls around your clit, taking it into his mouth again for a few last sucks to chase you to your orgasm. Your body trembles and shakes. Your hips twitch and push against his warm mouth while he drinks up your juices, humming and groaning with satisfaction. Waves of ecstasy crash through you, and white-hot circles dance in front of your closed eyes. "My girl," Garog hums, petting your thighs. His palms are warm on your skin, massaging your flesh and bringing you back to real life. "Take your time."

When you finally calm down after a few minutes, you feel tired but happy. Your eyelids are heavy, and Garog can't help but smile at your slugged form. "Can you come home with me?" He asks softly, glancing at your laptop. "And maybe we could stay at home tomorrow?" You hum, nodding. "But I need my laptop." "Of course, love," he says. "I put everything away while you get dressed." "I love you," you tell him, and he smiles.

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Three: Return of the Kink

Day 12: Hands Under the Table (Public)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Sniper x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Sniper have some fun in a conveniently isolated area of a bar

Tags: Public, dirty talk, fingering, denial, dom/sub, bars, beer (no intoxication), volume control

Word Count: 2.2k

The Masterlist

You gripped a bottle of beer in your hand, letting the condensation soak your palm. Cracking open the cap, you grimaced as it bubbled and dripped down the side before taking a tentative sip. Yup, just as disgusting as the last time you had tried beer. Why you felt the need to force yourself to adapt to this taste, you would never know.

Truthfully, it was probably for the same reason you agreed to come along to this bar in the first place- comradery. You wished your team could get a bit more imaginative with their post-victory celebrations. At the very least, they could buy some drinks and keep them back at the base, where you could at least have the convenience of retiring to your room when things became overwhelming.

Scanning the bar, your eyes fell on Sniper, who had been keeping a booth to himself for most of the night. A bowl of chips in the center of the table remained untouched, and his hat was pulled low over his eyes, as if he simply wanted to fall asleep and be woken up when this was over. Sensing a possible kindred spirit, you approached him.

“I’m surprised you agreed to come,” you said, looking down at Sniper, now seeing that he was also nursing a beer. You wondered if he actually liked the stuff or if he was just faking it like you. Maybe everyone was faking it. Maybe beer was just a grand conspiracy.

Sniper scoffed. “Well, I was practically dragged out of my van to join in.” He nodded towards Scout, who was currently trying to chat up various girls on the small dance floor. It figured that the runner would be the one to pry Sniper out of his self imposed isolation. He was one of the only mercs stubborn and persistent enough to do so. You watched him strut over to the blaring jukebox, leaning against it as if it made him seem cool. You wondered how long it would take for him to put

at least five repetitions of the same Tom Jones song into that thing.

You really didn’t want to be negative. It was a nice bar, nicer than the kind you would usually go to. There was even a small stage for live music, although it was currently empty. After such a long streak of wins, the team had decided to splurge a bit. Yet, you ultimately couldn’t seem to get into the spirit of things.

“I take it you’re having about as much fun as I am?” you asked, your voice oozing sarcasm.

Honestly, you did not enjoy going out. Bars of any kind tended to be loud, crowded, and chaotic. You would much rather celebrate with a night in and some greasy take out. Spy wouldn’t be having that though, with his greater than thou attitude towards American food. Although, based on the way he was sequestered in his own personal corner as well, it seemed this wasn’t very much to his taste either.

“At least most of us seem to be enjoying themselves,” you sighed. Although, as you and Sniper looked out over the crowd, it became clear that some individuals may have been enjoying themselves a bit too much.

Demoman probably wouldn’t be much of an issue. You were almost certain that he was immune to hangovers at this point. The others were another story though. You had a feeling that the few sober ones among you would have to guide them back to the base by the end of the night, and help nurse them back to health in the morning. Why the Medigun wasn’t effective on hangovers, you would never know.

You tried to match Sniper’s laid back demeanor, casually sipping your own beer. However, you couldn’t hide the cringe on your face as you swallowed it down.

“Darling,” Sniper chuckled, watching you try and fail to ignore the taste of cheap booze. “If you don’t like it, why are you drinking it?”

You shrugged, giving a defeated sigh. “I guess I thought if I got drunk enough, this night would seem more entertaining.” You swirled the contents of the beer bottle, only a third empty. “But with how long it’s been taking me to force down sips of this cheap shit, I’m probably not even buzzed.”

Sniper chuckled. You set the bottle down beside him, admitting defeat. He took a swig from it only to find that the drink had long since gone flat. “I might have a way to make the evening more enjoyable, if you’d like,” he suggested, returning to nursing his own beer.

“I’m not dancing,” you quickly said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sniper said, glancing towards the dance floor where Scout was once again trying to seduce girls with his rendition of some kind of indescribable dance- like a cross between the Charleston and a baby giraffe trying to walk for the first time. You were almost envious of his alcohol fueled confidence. “Just have a seat next to me, doll.”

He patted the booth beside him. You were confused, but also intrigued, sitting down and sidling up next to him with a playful smirk. He quickly reciprocated with an arm draped over your shoulders, pulling you close. You were a bit embarrassed by the school girl-like giggle that escaped you as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Sniper’s lips grazed your ear, making you shiver, only for his next words to make you freeze up. “Don’t make a scene.”

“Wh-” You couldn’t even get a full word out before Sniper’s free hand reached over, unbuttoning your fly and slipping his hand into your pants. You bit your lip to keep yourself from gasping. “Oh my God, Sniper!” you whispered harshly. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked as he began to move his fingers, still over your underwear. Even so, it still sent jolts of pleasure through you that made your thighs quiver slightly. “We’ve discussed this, doll. Remember how hot it made you, the thought of me working you over with my fingers in the corner of a crowded room?”

Recalling the conversation made you blush. “Yeah, I remember,” you whispered, thinking back to the night you and Sniper had swapped fantasies over pillow talk. “I just didn’t expect it to be happening now.”

“Well, I believe a key part of that little fantasy was the element of surprise,” Sniper said. “You didn’t want to know when I might spring it on you.” He paused suddenly, his smirk wavering. “Of course, if you aren’t up for this now, we can stop-”

“No, no! I am!” You cringed, lowering your voice and glancing around to make sure no one had noticed your outburst. It appeared that the din of the crowd had effectively drowned you out. “That is, I am very much up for this.”

Sniper nodded, turning his gaze away from you. He sipped his beer, holding the bottle with his free hand while the one down your pants began to rub ever so slowly. Your face flushed scarlet and you bit your lower lip to keep any noises from escaping. Your adrenaline was running high, heightening every sensation. Even being touched through your underwear like this felt incredible.

“Please,” you stammered. “Keep going.”

“Of course, darling.”

Your underwear was pulled to the side, and you shuddered as you felt Sniper's fingers drag along your cunt, coating the digits with your arousal. It didn’t take much effort for him to work a couple fingers into you within a few minutes. You hooked a leg over his thigh, trying to spread your legs in a way that wasn’t too conspicuous. He allowed it, rubbing his free hand over your thigh for a moment. His palm was cold from the chill of the beer, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.

The hum of the crowd seemed to fade into the background as Sniper began to pump his fingers faster. He kept switching it up, swapping between thrusting into you and circling your clit, keeping you on your toes, yet always bringing you closer and closer to the edge until the sensation of building, tightening pleasure was at the forefront of your mind, eclipsing everything else.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak. You didn’t even trust yourself to look out into the crowded bar, fearing that something in your expression would give you away. Still, you had to try to say something, to warn Sniper that you were close.

“Mundy,” you whimpered. “I’m going to-”

“Not yet.”

Your body immediately stiffened. “No, no, no! Don’t be mean, Mundy! I can’t- oh fuck!” Your plea for mercy dissolved on your lips. You kept a white knuckled grip on the table in front of you, scowling down at it like it had personally offended you. It was all you could do to keep your eyes from rolling back.

“Darling, keep it together,” Sniper whispered, although through clenched teeth, it sounded more akin to a growl. “Or else I’ll have to punish you later.”

You frowned, barely keeping the moan out of your voice as you responded with a tense and curt “Fine.”

“And I'll Ignore your attitude, just this once.”

Damn it, he always needed to have the last word. You clamped a hand over your mouth, gluing your eyes to the table. Sniper’s fingers curled inside you, stroking gently and rhythmically. It was all you could do to keep yourself from arching back against the booth.

Sniper downed the rest of his beer. Glancing down, he saw the way your thighs were trembling, even though you were seated. It was quite an alluring sight, and Sniper couldn’t help but get enraptured in it, imagining being inside you, pinning you down somewhere private, and making all those pretty sounds spill freely from your lips. He shook his head, putting those thoughts out of his mind for now, lest he be forced to hold his own hat suspiciously in front of his crotch for the rest of the night.

“You’re pulsing around my fingers. You’re so close you can taste it, aren’t you?” He whispered. You nodded, barely looking up at him, a whimper just barely escaping past your hand. “You’re about to come in front of all these people who don’t have a clue what’s going on right under their noses.” Sniper pressed his fingers firmly against your sweet spot, making you jolt.

“Mundy,” you groaned his name softly, leaning against him. To anyone who glanced over, it would look like you had just overindulged on alcohol. Your flushed face only served to sell the facade even more. It was the perfect cover, really. Still, you would rather not get caught, even though the risk thrilled you in its own unique way. “Mundy, please!”

“It’s alright, doll. You can come, as long as you think you can stay quiet.”

His permission was like a trigger being pulled. Trying not to writhe as your orgasm ripped through you was a struggle, but you managed, hunching over the table and resting your forehead on the cool hard wood. Keeping quiet was a bit more difficult, but luckily the music was loud and the bar denizens were even louder, so the few moans that escaped you went unnoticed.

You stayed with your head on the table for a while, panting, letting out a soft groan when Sniper withdrew his fingers. He was stone faced, simply looking out over the bar as if nothing had transpired. It was only when you sat up that he glanced over at you, giving you a smirk that made your heart flutter. Between the ambient light of the bar and the post orgasmic haze, he looked handsome as hell. You wanted to lean up and kiss him before you could say something embarrassingly sappy.

Sniper broke the silence before you could. “I have a feeling the rest of the team isn’t going to be in any shape to walk back to base tonight.” He nodded towards the dancefloor, where you were certain at least half of your fellow mercenaries were currently making asses of themselves. However, you couldn’t be bothered to look. You didn’t want to tear your gaze away from Sniper. “How about we head back and grab my van so that they can have a ride? Hell, there might even be just enough time to give you a little reward for being such a good girl.”

An enthusiastic grin spread across your face. “I would like that,” you said, standing up quickly. A bit too quickly, apparently, as you staggered within your first step. Thankfully Sniper was at your side in an instant, linking your arms together to keep you steady. He had half a mind to scoop you up and simply carry you out of the bar.

As he guided you towards the exit on shaky legs, he caught the eyes of another patron. They were supporting the weight of their own very intoxicated partner, who was singing- or rather, shouting- the lyrics to whatever song played from the jukebox unintelligibly as they stumbled along. They gave the two of you a sympathetic look, and Sniper suppressed the smirk that threatened to creep onto his face. If only they knew.

[allophonicmess]

Uncanny Touch

Masterlist

You didn't get the chance to get acquainted with the new version of the doctor. So it's comes as a surprise when he suddenly wants the seduce you on a space ship at the end of the universe.

14th Doctor x reader + fake doctor x reader

Timelord!wife reader

Established relationship

1.5K Words

Angst

A little bit smutty

Written based on this request by @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 on my tumblr:

"Hello! I was wondering if you could do something angsty where Y/n prefers the fake Doctor over the real one? "

After the unconventional landing, the sudden disappearance of the Tardis, you finally arrived in the ship's cockpit. You let out a sigh of relief. Finally, some sense of control. Cockpits were good; you were trained on a Tardis type-60 but knew enough about other ships and transport systems to make an educated guess. "Okay, you two take a look at the other corridors.", you told them, sliding into the pilot's chair. You took a look at the pedals and screens in front of you. Was it built with a dual-slot engine? No, there would have to be a physical instrument to initiate ignition. Abduction core? Possibly, guessing from the symbols, there was a cooling system on the ship.

The Doctor and Donna had taken a step towards the cockpit's glass front, wondering about the edge of the universe. It was a strange concept: being at the end of everything. The thought made you shiver.

"Doctor." You called, making him step away from the glass and turn to you. "It looks like it utilizes cooler breaks. Could you go and look for any kind of cooling system?" You asked, still trying to figure out any of the written symbols.

You hadn't been able to figure out anything more than the basic number system that the Doctor had been able to translate.

"Any indication for power resources?" The Doctor leaned in next to you to take a look at the controls; he flipped through some of the slides and notifications that popped up on the screen. His hip was pressed against your knee; he didn't notice as he was too focused. But you did. You felt how warm his skin was. His heat slowly seeped into your leg, and you suddenly felt warmth rush to your face. You hadn't really touched, not in an intimate way.

But there had been no time to do so as you just popped up during the situation with the Meep. There was no time for rekindling, and you would have to wait a little longer judging the situation. "Um, no," You said softly. This position gave you the chance to finally take a better look at him.

He hummed, sliding back out between you and the screen. But not without letting his hand glide over your leg with just enough pressure to show you that his touch was deliberate. You sat up a little more straight, your eyes following his hand up to his arm and up to his face. He was looking at you with a kind smile. You huffed, reciprocating the playful sentiment. He let go, calling for Donna to follow him on his search for the ship's energy source and water system.

You stayed in the pilot's seat, trying to figure out possible syntax structures for the language you were presented with. It looked like nothing you had seen before. You were very familiar with circular writing systems, but this? Mysterious.

"Energy systems are controlled with base plate repetition filaments, Love." He informed you as he passed you on the corridor. "Ah, nice. And you gave Donna the pesky task of reenergizing them?" You asked, vaguely looking in his direction as he moved swiftly towards the other side of the cockpit. "Someone had to do it." He shrugged. He kept moving into the other room, his voice becoming muffled by the metal walls separating you. "And you had instructed me to look for a water system, no? Repetition filaments mean water spindles, so that's where I am going to solve my riddle of the day," He told you, his voice becoming smaller as he moved further into the room.

You huffed a laugh, once again focusing on the task at hand. You squinted your eyes, trying to find reoccurring elements in the symbols. Was there a word order? Did they even use words or was this a different kind of language. They may be phonemic creatures and somehow managed to create a written language.

"Whoa-"You gasped when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind. You realized it was the Doctor's.

You caught your breath, adrenaline rising in you from the sudden contact. You turned your head to look at him, but the seat's height made it impossible to look behind it.

"Are you done already?" You asked, genuinely surprised at his speed at work. He just hummed, his hands losing their pressure to slowly glide over your torso. You gasped softly at the intimate touch over your chest and belly. Was 14 going to be a touchy incarnation? Wandering hands and flirty interactions?

"I missed you." He said lowly, letting go of you, only to appear on your left. His hand was outstretched, asking you silently to take it. You studied his face for a moment. He had removed his glasses, and his dark eyes watched you with a strange energy behind them. You haven't seen him like this before. You glanced at his hand for a moment before accepting his invitation. He grinned, pulling you up quickly.

He was more substantial than you remembered, using a good amount of strength to pull you right into his chest. His grin widened, keeping you there, pressed into his front. It was new, unexpected. He had always been very levelheaded on past journeys and travels. But you couldn't get yourself to mind it very much. Not with the sudden rush you felt. He had always been romantic but never this… physically approaching.

"Hello, you." He chuckled, watching you hungrily. His right hand moved up to your chin, holding it in a firm grasp. You let out a breath, not noticing you held it. His thumb moved to your lower lip, pressing down on it and letting his finger glide over it.

"Doctor-"You gasped softly. You really wanted to tell him that you appreciated the new physical contact and were also looking forward to exploring his new form, but now, stuck with Donna on an empty ship and without a Tardis, wasn't the right moment to do so. Yet the mix of surprise and attraction made it impossible to say more than that. He chucked at your weak interjection. Letting go of your lip and letting it bounce back into place.

"Always humouring me." He whispered, grinning again, eyes moving to your lips and back up to meet your eyes. He pulled you forward to meet you in a passionate kiss, the hand on your cheek moved to your neck to hold you in place.

You gasped into the kiss when he slowly walked you backwards, turning you around so that he stood with his back to the chair.

"Taste so good." He growled, allowing you to catch your breath before letting himself fall into the pilot's chair. His left arm was still wrapped around you, making you follow his movement. You practically fell into his lap; you had enough sense not to stumble completely and sit down on his lap. Each leg was placed over his thigh as your knees bumped against the small armrests of the chair. He looked down at your position.

"Yes-"He groaned, pushing you closer with a hand against your lower back. His long fingers graced your ass, and suddenly, you didn't care so much about being stuck on a lost spaceship.

"My good girl." He hummed, going in for another kiss. He squeezed your side, nimble fingers moving under your shirt. He pulled down the neckline of your shirt, humming against your pulse.

"I've waited so long to finally have you again." The Doctor started kissing your pulse, moving towards your neck. You closed your eyes, intoxicated by him. His stubble rubbed deliciously against your skin, making you gasp.

"Doctor, we shouldn't…" But then his fingers hand found a way under your shirt. They were a bit cold, creating goosebumps as they danced over your back with gentle pressure.

"Mhm, and yet you enjoy it. You little rule-breaker." He sucked on that delicious spot where your jaw connected to your skull. His fingers had reached the claps of your bra. He kneaded the skin underneath them before unhooking them one by one. You knew that something was off. That the Doctor would never approach you like this, despite his playful and sometime unpredictable nature. But you realised with shock that you didn't care about that. Because this version of him gave you what you longed for.

"Donna?!"

"My little deserter." He pulled you closer to let his lips wander over your clavicle to go lower.

"What?" You opened your eyes, wondering if you were just hearing things. Did he just call you-

"You should have followed those orders, hmm?" He licked your neck, his hands moving to your front, just waiting to touch your-

"Donna, Love, are you there? Donna-"

Your eyes met. His emotions shifted quickly from confused to intrigued, triggered by that look of bliss and arousal on your face. But in the end, he just looked terrified as he noticed the familiar arms and white sleeves peeking out from underneath your shirt. Accustomed fingers massaging your flesh. And then that grin. He never knew he could look so terrorizing, grinning back at himself.

With you, gasping on the lap of the other him.

[unhetalia]

it’s the body headcanon anon again!

this one is a doozy. i apologize.

First, i read ur post about fatphobia like a ravenous animal. wonderful. trying not to let me be derailed. fists gripping the table cloth teeth clenched shaking. Second i took a health & wellness course like 2 years ago & this has been sitting in my notes app since. Half of this doesn’t even make sense to me anymore. & I think some of the data is outdated, like ik there’s more research into mechanical damage now. im lazy. Shrug.

I LOVE the idea that America is only mildly toned. Not really muscular, not overtly chubby, but certainly soft around the edges. I’m going to blab now.

I don’t think Ame is biologically capable of building much muscle. He's not incapable, but it would be significantly more difficult. Ame is naturally super strong; weight doesn’t seem to affect him, & when it does, it’s very minimal. Being unable to lift weights as a means to bulk & build muscle is a HUGELY DEBILITATING PROBLEM.

Building muscle is what fills out your physique. There’s a lot of different things that can go into muscle building, hypertrophy, & he quite literally can’t do half of them. He can’t lift weights, bc weight lifting only works to build muscle bc it’s helping to achieve mechanical damage & metabolic fatigue (& he does it like breathing. clearly not fatiguing anyone.) Progressive overload would be borderline impossible, as adding weight is once again out of the question & increasing reps will at some point no longer be conceivably possible. It’s complicated! He’d probably have to rely on things that would be considered toning, rather than bulking. “Toning” (vague term tbh, very loose) develops lean muscle & reduces your body fat through lifting moderate weights & stretching. Repetition & endurance is more what makes toning work, exhausting the muscles to achieve metabolic fatigue. This would be the sort of strength training that’s probably possible, but even then, only to a certain extent.

He can’t really do exercises that are… “outside his own body”. Like, he could probably do squats, lunges, planks, things that are his body and his body alone. He can’t really do push-ups or pull-ups, since that’s just lifting weight again. But maybe he’s only really strong if his whole body is involved, so exercises like that could work if it’s just his arms or legs doing the work? Maybe he’s able to do resistance/strength training on one part of his body at a time? Maybe he can build the strength in individual limbs, but it’s gotta max out at some point? I thought maybe he could use bands for resistance, but then I thought about it more, & damn that’s kind of just lifting weights again! He’d probably break the damn things! Or cut off his blood circulation before it actually gave him any proper resistance…

this all leads into my headcanons about his body and what it’s capable of but this is already too long. Ok. Sorry for coming into ur inbox with half an essay. thank u for having me.

oh my god NEVER APOLOGISE. It's so fascinating to think of America being unable to build muscle due to his own 'powers'. I've never thought of this and I'm absolutely incorporating it into my own headcanons.

Soft America has always been my bread and butter (both in body and personality). Thank you for giving me something else to chew on regarding that.

[themratts]

A Surprise For Papa

[A mysterious 'gift' arrives at the ministry, addressed to Copia, and he's not quite sure what to make of it ]

Rating: Teens and Up

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three • Blankets (word count: 1.8k)

——🍼

“Have you heard?”

“Heard what?”

There was never a lack of whispering amongst the congregation when something was afoot. The hollow corridors of sibling dormitory wings and darkened corners were regular breeding grounds for rumors and gossip. And once the very first seeds had been planted, it took only hours for the forests of speculation and scandal to grow. For an Emeritus to be subject, that wasn’t anything new. But this particular tale was anything but what was to be expected.

“Well,” A sister leaned against the wall, glancing to the side and then returning to her friends, “... a little birdie told me… someone saw Papa with a baby.”

“What?”

“A baby!?”

“A baby.”

“Whatever do you mean?” They pressed forward. And the Sister continued to water the sapling,

“He was seen holding a baby, carrying it. That’s what I was told.”

“What are you trying to say?” Her friend crossed her arms, “That doesn’t mean it’s his baby. Why, I’d hand my baby to Papa in a heartbeat too.”

“I know… but it feels odd, doesn’t it?” They looked between each other and shrugged. “Why would he be carrying it?”

“Carrying it… as in taking it somewhere?”

“Toward his room, they said.”

“Well now. That sounds like a stretch.”

“He better not have had a baby with someone,” the third Sister, who’d remained mostly quiet, now crossed her arms and frowned, “That’s not fair.”

“Let's not jump to conclusions. If he was to have a baby… surely we would hear about it.”

“Well point, Sister.”

“So we wait and see?”

The other two nodded in agreement. A hush came about the group, an unsettling uncertainty when they glanced between each other. It was a hard thing to believe- but just because he was holding an infant, doesn’t make it his own.

“Tell us…” The nun finally placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. And she asked, “...who exactly saw him?”

——

Copia had been awoken three times that night, to the repetitive and loud newborn wailing and crying. Each time, with a sad groan he’d lift the poor thing and cradle her, rock her until she’d eventually cry herself out back to sleep. On the third time, he warmed another bottle for her just in case. That seemed to do a decent trick.

It wasn’t until just past seven AM that he got up for real. He changed his clothes- a looser shirt and more comfortable pants- and attended to his face and hair. Reentering his living room, the baby lay against the pillow, quiet and examining the world around her. He couldn’t help but smile. Truly, she was adorable.

“Hm,” He sat down on the couch, beside the little bundle, “you will need some clothes, won’t you, principessa? And… a crib. And… toys,” He leaned back against the couch then, exhaling. It was starting to sink in, just how much he’d have to do, how little he truly had prepared, even with the necessities brought to him already. Copia glanced toward the baby. His heart was sore for her. Head shaking, “...you are really here to put me to the test, aren’t you?”

Of course she couldn’t respond. But she did look up at her Papa, and smile. Copia felt himself melt. And he reached for her tiny little hand- palm hardly bigger than his fingertip.

“That is alright..” He said, softly to her. “Challenge accepted. I…” Papa’s head swiveled to the other side of the room. “...need to make a phone call.”

And a phone call, he made. Within the hour, there was a knock on his door. A ghoul, dragging a very large box which he then pushed through the doorway, grunting.

“Dewdrop, thank you.” Copia greeted, holding the door open. “..thank you,”

“Yeah, yeah.” He managed to get the box into the middle of the room. On the front, there was a large picture of a baby crib.

Papa glanced at the sight of which up and down. “Oh,” he frowned, “you know, I , ehm… I meant… to just bring a crib from the nursery. You know, one that was.. already put together.”

Dew put his hands on his hips, annoyed, “I just dragged this thing all the way here, do you fuckin’ want it or not?”

“Yes yes yes,” Copia waved his hands, stepping forward to pull the box closer to him, “it’s fine, it is fine. It’s- yes. It’s fine.”

“It better be.”

“Will you, uhm,” Copia bent down in front of the box, positioned on his knees. His fingers wiggled into the tape holding it together, “Will you watch her while I try and get this together?”

“Sure.” The ghoul shrugged, and padded his way across the room. He approached the couch, gazing curiously down at the infant. And when he sat beside her, her big eyes widened and he smiled. Dew snickered, “She’s way too cute to be yours.”

“Ha-ha.”

He swept his tail up, gently tickling her nose with the tip. The baby burst into giggles and Copia glanced back. His chest warmed… a relief. At least ghouls were good with babies.

Now able to focus on the task at hand, Papa sat back and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He ripped the box open , greeted with the parts of the crib and the instruction manual to go with them. This, he was not looking forward to. But if he was to be a dad… he was going to have to figure it out. He groaned and let it fall to the floor before standing, “I need a screwdriver and nails..”

Those alone took a decent amount of time to locate. But once he had everything he needed, he cleared out the area to begin the crib construction. All while Dewdrop sat back and watched, keeping an extra eye on the baby.

As Copia was screwing a leg into the base, eyes narrowed and focused, the ghoul struck a conversation.

“You should really name her, you know.”

Copia grunted. He sat back to check his work before clearing his throat and replying, “I’ve been thinking of that, actually.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I think I am going to call her…” he turned around, feeling soft as his eyes settled on the precious bundle, “… Benedetta.”

“Benedetta?”

“Yes.”

“Hm,” the ghoul wiggled a claw at the baby, who grabbed weakly at him, “Cute.”

“Thank you.” With a sigh, he straightened up and resumed where he left off. He hadn’t even been at it very long, but his knees were already sore and hands tired from wrenching the screws. Too old for this, he thought. But every moment was worth it. Every moment for his baby.

“It’s so weird,” Dew continued talking, “You. A father.”

“Mmhm. That has been established, yes.”

“I didn’t even think you fucked.”

Copia halted , letting out an unamused sigh. “Can you not do this right now?”

“Do what? Heh.”

“Quit being an asshole.” He pulled the leg to make sure it was on right. It was.

“I’m not being an asshole. I’m just saying.”

“Well, stop saying.”

“Who did you even sleep with on tour?”

“Dew, I am not in the mood.”

“I just find it hard to believe you fucked that much on tour that you cant even narrow down who the mother could be.”

Dewdrop could only see the back of Copia’s head, the way it was shaking, but he knew those red ears well. He snickered , and wiggled the fingers that Benedetta was currently playing with.

“Listen,” Papa finally replied, “it is none of your damn business, alright?”

“Sure. But it’s a little hard to be secretive went you went and had a fuckin’ baby.”

“Yeah, well, whatever…”

His fingers flipped through the instruction manual. An impatience swirled in his chest, the longer Dew continued to be a distraction. Shortly after , luckily, the ghoul went silent.

Well over an hour, it took, for Copia to get the entire crib together. During that time he’d moved to sit on his rear end instead, while Dew meanwhile looked after his bambina, including keeping her entertained and rocking her when she got fussy. She seemed to like Dewdrop, the fluff of his fur especially and playing with his pointy tail. He made for a good babysitter.

With a grunt, Copia removed himself from the floor and stood back, admiring his work. His knees ached, light coat of sweat on his back, despite how hardly tedious the labor was. His hands settled on his hips, stepping to the side to show Dew.

“How’s it look, eh?”

He walked forward, Benedetta in his arms. “Not bad,” he nodded. “Will it hold?”

“It better, after all that.” He reached forward. Gently, Copia shook the crib, a test in stability. It wobbled a little bit, but wasn’t unsound. “I think it is fine…”

“Ya’ got bedding for her?”

He moved, stuffing the crib bed with the same blankets she’d slept on atop the couch. Not exactly ideal, but, it was all he had. “.. that will do for now.”

“For now. You should probably look into some proper stuff for her.”

“Yes..” Copia raked a stressed hand through his hair. He sighed, a deep, tired exhale. “Ahh. Satana… I have… I have so much to do, don’t I?”

Dew offered him a light smile. His free hand extended, patting Copia on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine, man.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “you’ll figure it out. Maybe pick up one of those baby books from the library or something,”

Copia huffed laughter at the suggestion, although it wasn’t a bad idea. “Sure, thank you.”

“Here.”

Dewdrop leaned forward, holding Benedetta to her Papa. She fussed, at least until she was safely in Copia’s arms. Swaddled up nicely, Copia smiled and lifted her until he could kiss her tiny forehead. And when he looked down at her, it was like all the worry in his body dissipated.

“Bambina… I promise I will do my best with you.” He held her against him, and she rested her head on his shoulder. Copia warmed, “Your Papa will keep you safe. Forever,”

“You still think you’re gonna do a DNA test?” Dew asked, which Copia had nearly forgotten about. He glanced to the side.

“I suppose I should.”

“Probably for the best.”

“But even if- somehow- she is not mine .. biologically. I don’t know if that will change much,” he rubbed her tiny back, “…what am I going to do? Put her somewhere else? Give her away? It is already too late for that I think.”

“I mean, you only had her one night.”

“I know, but…” carefully, Copia bent over the crib. He lowered the baby, until she lay, now fast asleep amongst the soft blankets. So calm. So peaceful. So happy. There was a tug on Copia’s heartstrings. He couldn’t help it, “She is mine now, either way.”

Dew laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah,” once more, he placed a rough pat on Copia’s back. “Yeah, she is.”

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 5: THE FLEA AND THE ACROBAT

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: Chapter 4 is such a filler episode and I didn't like how I wrote it after I posted, but in rereading it after Chapter 3, it really does flow together and I can tweak loose ends in this present chapter! (See? Glass half full). Enjoy another mother-daughter moment between Diana and Sue!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1021

Masterlist

PART I || PART II

Friday, November 11, 1983 - SINCLAIR RESIDENCE

The house is quiet this morning as everyone gets dressed for Will’s funeral. I stand in front of my full-length mirror staring at my reflection. After finding evidence of the thing that took Barb, neither Jonathan, Nancy and I had any idea on what to do with the information. How are we going to find it? Are we going to find it? As a group we decided not to tell the police because they already believe Nancy, Ms. Byers and I are crazy for suggesting that Barb and Will were taken by an animal with no face. This is something we would have to handle ourselves. If my parents found out about anything, they would probably move us out of town, far away from this insidious madness. Part of me wouldn’t blame them but, if there was even an inkling of hope in finding and bringing back Will and Barb, I was going to take that chance. The glimmer of hope in finding them burned deep in my gut. Lucas and I deserve to have our best friends back. 

I run my fingers through my hair. I couldn’t sleep and woke up early to take a hot comb to it in the kitchen. It took two hours and my arms burned from the arduous task, but the ease in repetition calmed the spiralling thoughts in my head. I even trimmed my ends a little. With my natural curls, my hair was at my waist, but after straightening it and trimming the ends, it fell past my bottom. Way too long for my liking and heavy. My neck aches. I lean forward making sure the lack of sleep didn’t show on my face. I can’t attend the funeral looking like I am half dead myself. I clear my throat smoothening out any wrinkles in my modest black dress. It seems like everyday something new happens in Hawkins and none of it has been good. Today my little brother was burying his best friend. Despite the glimmer of hope inside me, it is going to be a tough day to get through. 

“Diana, are you ready?” I hear Mom from the other side of my door. 

“Come in,” I say. 

Mom enters my room. She’s wearing a simple black dress, her freshly styled hair combed neatly in a bob cut. She looks very pretty. Mom smiles softly eying me from head to toe. I shift side to side on my feet, wiggling my toes against my nylons. 

“You look pretty.” Mom says, walking to me. She stands behind me, combing her fingers through my hair through the mirror. “I knew I smelled hair product in the kitchen this morning.” 

Heat creeps up the back of my neck. “I couldn’t sleep.” I admit. 

Mom sighs, parting pieces of my hair to lay over my shoulder. She gently places her hands on my arms swiping away any lint on the long sleeves of my dress before squeezing them. Her eyes soften as she looks at me through the mirror. The voice in my head screams for me to tell Mom about the photo, but I ignore it leaning into her touch. 

“I know the past couple of days have been hard on you and I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” 

“It’s okay,” I shrug, flaring my nostrils to satiate the burn in them. I don’t want to cry, not now.

Mom looks at me, shaking her head. “No, it’s not.” 

Tears immediately swim in my eyes and quickly wipe them away with my fingers before they fall down my cheeks. It’s too early to cry. I clear my throat, sniffing and fix my dress again. “Can you help me pick a shoe? Should I wear flats or heels?”

Mom stares at me for a moment and I know she wants to talk about everything, but decided against it, thankfully. I’m not sure I have the words to express how I’m feeling at the moment or have been the past couple of days. 

“Heels.” she responds. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay, put on your heels and I’ll be right back.” 

I nod my head and go to my closet rummaging around until I found my only pair of black kitten heels. I’ve only worn them for special occasions like Dad’s company dinners. Never for a funeral. I slide my feet into the shoes and walk out my closet just in time for Mom to walk back into my room. She’s holding a little black tube between her manicured fingers. A tube of lipstick. I blink in awe, feeling a jolt of surprise. Mom and Dad had a strict rule about not being able to wear makeup until I was 16. It was the one rule, I hated and begrudgingly followed. Yet here Mom was holding a tube of lipstick for me. I only ever worn lipstick for performances. Mom smiles at my reaction. 

“I think this will complete your look today.” 

I take the lipstick out of her hand, cherishing it like a delicate flower. I open the tube and stare at the wine-coloured lipstick. This was different than the colour I used for performances, darker and more elegant. I walk to my mirror and neatly apply the lipstick on my lips, opening my mouth to get the sides. I rub my lips together melting the wax between them and clean the edges of my mouth with my finger. I take a step back to look at my work. I already look more mature and womanlier, like Mom. Short stature and flat chest be damned. I smile, genuine and true. I smile so much my eyes disappear into my cheeks. Mom chuckles softly behind me and I can’t help but giggle at my reaction. 

“Thank you, mommy.” I gush, turning to give the lipstick back to her. Mom shakes her head, closing my fingers. Her gold wedding band twinkles. 

“Keep it.” 

My eyes widen. “Really?” 

“Of course, sweetheart. You’re almost 16.” 

I squeal happily thrusting my body onto hers and hug her tight around her neck. Mom laughs, her rumbles vibrating against my stomach. 

NEXT -> PART II

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

[stormingfrost]

Wonders of the Invisible World 

Tags: Body horror, major character death, Implied/Referenced child abuse, original characters, pitch/sandy

summary: 

Through hundreds of years of strange things happening all over the world, finally someone sees. The Bennett family is now at the forefront of every children's tale - except, now, they learn that these tales are not only real, but much, much darker than they first thought.

For @rotg-halloween day six: Dystopia  

Read it on AO3

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 /13

chapter six: Dystopia 

under cut

Her feet slammed on the dirt, each footstep seemingly jostling her entire body until her legs were nothing but pain. Katherine paused, leaning against a tree and panting.

“Why’d you stop?” The voice in her head asked. “We are almost there.” 

“Be,” she gasped in between breaths. “Quiet. We don’t need to see them now. Just… in a bit.” 

She felt the voice silence, but that never meant it was over. Silence meant angry pouting. 

“Emily, I need a break.”  

Her vision grew blurry and dark.

The trees were rattling when she came to. She was on the floor. Katherine rolled her eyes. 

“We won’t get anywhere if you throw these temper tantrums.” 

“Stop speaking to me like I am a child. I’m older than you.” 

“Then act like it. It’s not the end of the world if we don’t get there immediately.” 

She sat up, staring at a frozen pond. 

He was supposed to be in there. He wasn’t. She wondered how true Death felt. 

The boy, that frozen corpse, was the one thing keeping everything stable. If the boy managed to break the ice and stumble to the ruins of his own home, then that was a sign. 

And then, he just never returned to the pond. Everyone understood him to be dead.

There were five humans directly in this mess. Emily didn’t care about helping them, after all, humans are why she lost her own body. But she was bound to Katherine, and Katherine cared.  

If Katherine didn’t solve why they were able to give the boy his peace, all hell would break loose. If she didn’t find them first, something else will. 

Her joints ached. She looked down at her hand, watching it as it turned soft, small, and young. And then rough, wrinkled, and aged. It morphed, along with the rest of her body. 

She closed her eyes. 

She could control it, once. Being able to turn any age she pleased was a gift at first. Enjoying youth while being able to reap the benefits that adulthood brought. 

But now, she was out of control. 

She didn’t know why, even after spending hours hunched over every book in her collection, even after every spell, she was not able to stay in control. 

She rested her hand, now a young adult hand, on the ice. 

“Nightlight?” She whispered. 

The wind didn’t answer her call. The boy didn’t gargle at her, some part of him recognized the name. 

It was a repetition she didn’t enjoy. Her Nightlight, her once shining love, was stuck in the body of a completely unrelated corpse. She didn’t know how much of the corpse’s memories were her Nightlight’s. Most of the memories were the boy’s. Every year, she’d find him crying at the ruins of his former home, and every year, she’d try to relive his misery. 

If not an obligation to her love, then it was to soothe the misery of the dead. 

She didn’t know if Nightlight was buried with the boy or not. 

“He’s not here,” Emily said. “Find the family. Five humans. We need to know how they were able to kill one of us.” 

“They didn’t kill him,” Katherine reminded, “The boy was already dead. Just received peace.” 

“Very well,” Emily drawled, mocking Katherine. “We need to know how they were able to… give him peace.” 

Katherine stood up, brushing snow off her pants. 

“There’s a fork in the path.” She held out her hand, seeing two lines of stories guiding her in completely opposite directions. 

“Just pick one.” 

Katherine shrugged, choosing one of the stories and following it. 

This story was one of anger. Hurt. Maybe the anger and hurt could make a human able to see them. Be able to stop the cycle through violence. 

The boy was shot and buried, after all. 

She had only a vague description of the family. Three adults, and two children. One boy and one girl. Their stories were all twisted together, so she separated the adults from the children. Katherine chose the young girl’s story, which at this point in her life, solely consisted of two adults and her brother. 

It was less complicated and, therefore, easier to follow. The fork was not something she anticipated, but she supposed it made sense. After all, they had seen them multiple times. Everyone wanted a peek. 

They must’ve split up to try and confuse them. It worked because she was getting further away from the pond and nearer to the other side of town. 

She stopped in front of a building. A frown grew on her face. 

“A prison?” Emily said, her tone sounding about as confused as Katherine felt. “Did they hide in a prison?” 

“Perhaps. Only one way to find out.” 

She held onto the story, following the line like it was Ariadne's thread. 

She walked past every guard, every security measure, and every door. The story stopped in a cell. 

A man sat in a cell, lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. Katherine watched him. 

“What do you know?” She whispered. 

She couldn’t see his story. She frowned. 

“You can’t read him?” Emily asked.

“Not at all.” 

It only happened a few times before. Sometimes it was a deliberate choice, cutting the thread of the story off and hiding from her. Sometimes they just didn’t have one. 

The child’s story included this man. He was important, but Katherine didn’t know how. 

“Talk to him.” 

Katherine sighed, slipping into the cell. At least he was alone. 

She closed her eyes, pulling from stories to make herself visible to the man. 

The man jumped, looking at her with alarm. 

“Hello,” she said. “I’m here to ask you questions.” 

“I didn’t do it,” the man said immediately. 

“I didn’t say you did anything.” 

The man looked her over. 

“Well, little lady, what do you want?” 

“Answers.” 

“I don’t like him,” Emily said. 

The man stood up, a little bit closer to Katherine. 

“I’ll give you all the answers you want, but, if you do me a favor.” 

“I hate him,” Emily insisted. “Let me have control. I will drown him in a tsunami and-“ 

Katherine ignored Emily. 

“What kind of favor?” She asked. The man sighed, running a hand down his face. 

“I was accused,” the man explained. “Wrongfully. I didn’t do anything to deserve to be here. They all hate me. She took away my kids by lying to everyone.” 

“Let me kill him,” Emily whispered. 

“Answer this first-“ 

“No,” the man said. “I won’t until you get me out of here. Please. You have no idea what it’s like. Everyone thinks I’m this monster. Please!” 

“Kill him,” Emily chanted.

Katherine sighed. 

“I’ll just go.” 

She slipped through the bars. The man screamed, yelling after her. 

“Please! You don’t know what it’s like!” 

She paused, turning back. The other people here were watching the man, whispering about how he was going crazy.

“I don’t know,” Katherine murmured, walking back to the cell. The man reached for her. 

“You’re in here. The story that led me here was full of anger and pain. That would be you.” 

“Pain, yes!” The man pleaded. “It’s so painful to be locked up… I didn’t do anything.” 

The person in the cell next to them scoffed. 

“You remind me of someone I knew once,” Katherine said. “Desperate. You’re useless like this. I have other options.” 

“No! Please! I need to see my son! Don’t you have mercy for parents missing their children?” 

Katherine turned on her heel, facing the man. Everything clicked into place with his words. 

“I can read you now. You lied to me. How dare you pretend that you didn’t hurt him? How dare you.” 

“He dies!” Emily cheered. 

The man stopped his weeping. He slammed a hand on the bars. 

“Let me have control,” Emily said. “I will take care of him.” 

Katherine shrugged. 

“Alright.” 

She closed her eyes. Darkness welcomed her. 

She woke up in a field, the prison distant on the horizon. The man was conscious, odd. Emily must’ve lost control easier than before. She normally finished the job. 

“Emily?” Katherine asked. 

There wasn’t a response. She frowned.

“No,” the man begged. 

Katherine wasn’t violent. She had no sympathy or pity for this man. Katherine examined him. 

A broken leg. Bruises. The vines around them dug into his arms, holding him in place. She glanced up to the distant prison. Flashlights beamed through the fog. 

“I won’t kill you,” Katherine said, kneeling to face the man. “They are going to find you and put you back. Don’t worry, you got dealt with a much better hand than others.” She turned away. 

“Emily?” She tried. 

Nothing. 

She glanced back at the man. Leaving him for the guards to find was her best choice. She wasn’t a murderer, so she wasn’t going to finish what Emily started. She also didn’t want to be near the man like that ever again. He was going to be found and brought back. They’d say he escaped but fell into a thorny bush. 

She needed to figure out why Emily was silent. It wasn’t normally so quiet in her own head.

The family could wait, the consequences be damned. She needed to know if Emily was okay. She couldn’t lose two friends. She couldn’t lose another person again. 

[cryley]

Petrichor - Part 1

matty healy x reader (fluff) word count: 2.4k A/N: (moved from @cryley-fics where it was originally posted) ♡ Helloooo, it's Ry. This is actually the first fic I've posted on tumblr and also the first fic I've written in 7ish years. I've recently been yanked back into my 1975 obsession and literally can't stop thinking about Matty, so I decided to write again. Please please please be kind since I am v rusty with my writing ♡ ▹ masterlist ▹ part 1 ▹ part 2 ▹ part 3 ▹ part 4 ▹ part 5

I quickly brushed my hands off onto my apron before walking to the back room. Glancing at my watch, I groaned. It was too early to be awake. Well, I didn’t feel awake, but I tried my hardest to appear coherent. My eyes scanned the shelf full of metallic-looking bags until I found the one I needed. 

“Didn’t expect to see you here this early.”

“Good morning to you too, Atlas.” Grabbing the full bag of espresso beans, I chuckled. “I requested this afternoon off.”

Pushing my way back through the swinging door, I plopped the bag on the counter. The cafe was really quiet in the mornings before we opened. It was nice to see it this way before the rush of equally tired people waiting to get their dose of beans.

“Well if you ever want to switch permanently to mornings, I can maybe convince Lansen.” Atlas stood at the end of the counter tying his apron around his waist. 

I liked working the afternoon shifts, but it is nice working morning shifts when you end your shift at noon. Yeah, waking up at 3 am to get ready for work is the least fun thing to do in the world, but it beats retail. 

I shrugged and continued filling the machine with the beans, “When you’re done clocking in, can you finish setting up while I count in the back?”

Looking over to Atlas, he nodded. He didn’t mind staying out front all morning if I’d let him. Paperwork was his enemy. 

We were both some of the only shift leaders at this cafe. Most employees were either underage, newer hires, or simply just didn’t want the responsibility. Atlas was a very charismatic people-person who is perfect for customer interaction while I was…well let’s just say I liked doing back-of-house paperwork. 

Walking over to my side, he bumped my shoulder to give me the queue that he will take over. Before pushing past the door, I switched on the speakers and put on the “manager-approved playlist” which mostly just consisted of repetitive weird piano and smooth jazz.

I placed the register drawers on the desk and got to counting. My head bobbed to the awkward sound of cups clanging and off tempo trumpet. Checking the clock on the office wall, I stood up and sighed.

Jamming the drawers back into the registers, I heard Atlas humming to the speaker’s music. He always seemed too happy in the mornings. I watched him lightly dance around behind the bar as he made iced tea.

“Going to the restroom quickly before we open in 10.”

I untied my already somewhat messy apron and placed it behind the counter before walking off. The bathroom was well-lit and clean. Thankfully the closers did their job yesterday without me around. 

My tired reflection stared back at me in the mirror. In a rush, I could only manage to throw a beanie over my blonde hair and had to skip the contacts today. I pulled off my round wire-framed glasses to give them one last clean before inevitably becoming covered in splashes of coffee during my shift. I already couldn’t wait to go home and shower.

“Got any plans this weekend?” Atlas questioned as I placed my apron carefully back around my waist. 

I grabbed the keys to unlock the front door, “Going to that show I told you about last week.”

“Oh yeah! I forgot that was today. Makes sense now why you are working a morning shift.” He ran his fingers through his messy brown hair while looking at his reflection on a spoon. 

I rolled my eyes and settled into my usual spot behind the espresso machine. Atlas didn’t mind handling the register. More people to make conversation with.

A couple groups of customers came in over the next couple of hours. Most of them left with coffee to go, but some of the regular visitors made themselves comfortable at their usual tables. Atlas and I would sometimes switch positions with me at the register, but he would often chuckle at my fake chipper small talk, so I would make him switch back with me. 

“Hey Y/N! Hey Atlas!”

I finished my last cappuccino for the small crowd of customers and peered over my shoulder.

“Morning Lindsay.” I smiled, grabbing a rag to clean the counters, “Can you take over the bar for me so Atlas can take his break?”

She nodded as I stood behind the register. Atlas lazily saluted to me before disappearing to the back room. 

Lindsay started to clean and organize the drink area while I emptied the old pot of dark roast, so I could brew a fresh batch. It was nice to breathe for a second after the morning rush of customers subsided. 

“I’m going to go get some more beans from the back. Did you need anything?” Lindsay skipped over to the door while her ponytail twirled behind her. 

My finger tapped BREW, “No, I don’t think so. Thank you though Lin.”

I turned back to the register to check the time, 10 am. Only two hours left and I can leave for the week. I decided to use my time off this week after the concert because I never seem to have a reason to take vacations throughout the year otherwise. At least this week I might be able to take a trip somewhere after I recover from the show. 

The cafe seemed to quiet down until the sound of the door closed. I looked out at the now pouring down rain I didn’t realize started during my shift. A man shook off his dark umbrella before walking up to the counter. He had his head down, putting the umbrella away in his bag. He was a bit taller than me and dressed in a long black coat. It was open just enough to see his forest green distressed sweater over top of a white shirt. 

“Good morning.” The man mumbled in an unfamiliar voice.

It almost sounded like he spoke in an accent, but you couldn’t put your finger on it since it was so low and mumbled. 

“Good morning. What can I get for you?” I fidgeted my fingers, tracing over the tattoos on my arm. 

“Uh, a dark roast please.”

He was definitely British. 

I looked up from my hand tracing over the ink on my skin, “I actually just started brewing a fresh pot of dark roast. If you grab a seat at a table, I can bring it to you when it’s finished if you’d like?”

My eyes finally met his. Oh god. I know this man.

His brown eyes stared back at me. The sides of his mouth curled up to form a slight smile.

“Yeah, I’ll be here for a bit. I have some work to do, so it probably won’t be my last cup either.” His hand raised to his curly brown hair to push it out of his face. 

I finally broke eye contact to turn towards the pot of brewing coffee, “It’ll probably be about 5 minutes. Would you like anything to eat? It’s on the house.”

The dark-haired man cocked his head to the side raising his eyebrows, “Well I would love a scone.”

“I’ll bring it to you.”

He pulled out his phone and tapped it to the reader to pay for the coffee, “Thanks.” 

I definitely knew who this man was. I didn’t think I’d be seeing him before tonight. 

I grabbed the scone from the bakery case and placed it onto a plate using some tongs while the man found a seat at the table closest to the front window. I watched him as he took off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. He just started to settle down into his spot when I placed the plate on his table.

He cheekily smiled up at me with a wink, “Thank you, love.”

I flirtily winked back at him before heading to check on the brew. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked behind the counter. 

Atlas emerged from the back and placed his apron back on. I checked the clock and replaced the now empty apron hook with my own apron.

“Let me make myself a drink quickly and deliver this man his dark roast before I go on my break.”

Atlas nodded and began to take a couple of lingering orders at the till. 

As I finished pouring myself a hot tea, the dark roast was finally finished. I smiled back at the man at the corner table and realized his eyes never left me. A cup in each hand, I made my way back to the familiar face. 

“Here’s your dark roast.” I placed the cup gently on the table as I glanced down at his tattoos, “Did you need any cream or sugar?”

He caught me glancing and rolled up his sleeves to show off the art, “No thank you, love. I prefer it as is.”

“Nice meeting you, Matty. Enjoy your coffee.”

The man took a break from sipping his drink to look back in my direction. His eyes met mine once more as I blushed through a smile. 

I turned and made my way over to my usual couch in the opposite corner in front of the cafe. I usually took my breaks out on the floor since the back office didn’t get service at all. I could use the hour to catch up on emails. At least I would try to start catching up on emails until I undoubtingly get distracted from my crush sitting opposite me. Placing my tea on the coffee table to save my spot, I rushed to the back to grab my phone and headphones.

“Do you know that guy or something?” Lindsay followed me into the back.

A giggle escaped my mouth, “Not exactly. Just indirectly, I guess.”

She side-eyed me with a cheeky look before grabbing a refill of vanilla sweetener and heading back through the door. 

I could feel the heat rising to my face. Shoving my headphones in my ears, I decided to check the mirror in the office before returning to my tea. Man, I looked terrible. When I had dreamed of meeting Matty before, I didn’t look like I had been run over by a van. Managing to straighten my hair out as much as possible, I took a deep breath and made my way back out to the cafe. Pulling out my phone, I navigated to my music.

“On break” I mumbled over to the others while still staring down at my phone. 

My feet carried me over to the familiar maroon couch until an unfamiliar sight was sat in my spot. Matty. 

“Sorry,” He smirked, “were you going to sit here?”

Speechless, I picked up my tea, “It’s okay. I can sit somewhere e-”

“I’m joking!” He scooted over to the other end of the couch away from the window, “Come sit with me. I could use the company.”

“Didn’t you have work you wanted to get done?”

“It can wait.” He took another sip of his coffee. 

Without much hesitation, I shuffled my way into my seat realizing it was a lot closer to him than it had seemed. I blushed and picked up my tea, eager to take a sip. 

“So you obviously know who I am. Will you tell me about you?” He nudged my shoulder with his own. 

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, “My name is Y/N.”

“Lovely name.”

I smiled, “And after work today, I’ll be getting ready to go to your show.”

“Oh, are you not one of those people who wait outside for hours and hours?” He takes a long sip of his drink, still not breaking eye contact. 

I’m the one to break it first as I look down at my hands and chuckle, “unfortunately I could only get stadium seating. GA was impossible to snag.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And expensive as fuck.” I rolled my eyes at him. 

“Okay, well that isn’t exactly our fault.”

I gave him an accusing look and shrugged. 

“Hey! I promise it isn’t our fault!” He laughed while leaning into my side, “Anyway, you shouldn’t accuse someone of lying when they could get you a side-stage view of your favorite band.”

His body leaning into mine felt like fire flowing through me. He was just a normal person like everyone else. I usually didn’t feel nervous when meeting famous people before. I used to meet loads of my favorite artists back when I went to shows more frequently. Maybe because I was just caught off guard in “the wild”?

“You’re telling me that you could get me side-stage tickets to Phoebe Bridgers?”

He matched my smirk, “Hah Hah. Very funny. I meant my band.”

“Bold of you to assume the 1975 is my favorite band.” I sipped my tea. 

“Your tattoo gave it away.” He lightly grabbed my arm in one hand and pointed with the other. 

I had a lot of tattoos on my arm, but in between some of the larger pieces I had a little box with the words “modernity has failed us” in scribbled writing. 

I immediately blushed. Not just from him noticing my 1975 tattoo, but mostly from the grasp he had on my arm. He rubbed his thumb over the scribbled words decorating my skin. 

“You have a lot of other cool ones too, but I think this is my favorite.” He winked. 

“So uh,” I tried not to stumble over my words, “what else do you want to know about me?”

“A lot actually. I have time.”

“Well, I only have 40 minutes left on my break.” I gestured with my free hand to the clock. 

He let go of my arm to rummage through his bag. I really wished he hadn’t let go. It felt cold and lonely without his warm thumb brushing over my skin. 

“That settles it then,” he handed me his phone, “can I have your number?”

My heart dropped. Is he serious right now? Even if I give him my number, it’s not like he is actually going to reach out to me. 

I take his phone and type my number into the field. I saw that he had already added my name at the top. Y/N (cute barista). 

[maarriiii]

Simp (Part 8) | Wilbur Soot

A/N: Part 8 or as I like to call it the part where I make up random name for characters. I feel like every chapter is slowly getting longer and I don’t know if people like that 🤷‍♀️ Also, completely unrelated, call me what you like is a banger. I love it. Have been playing in on repeat.

Summary: A day in the life of actor, y/n l/n. Also, Lovejoy sold tickets for their tour. Did you get one though? (Read to find out lol)

Pairing(s): OC x gender neutral!reader, OC x actor!reader

Warning(s): Rude journalist and swearing but only a little really

my masterlist :))

~~

 "What happened to keeping a low profile and staying off social media?"

You sighed. You knew this would happen. You were expecting it since yesterday, when your fans freaked about your appearance in Wilbur's stream—or more precisely in his chat—and the aftermath of it was you trending on Twitter again and another round of speculation about your love life started rolling out. You turned from the car window, the streets of Los Angeles passing by, to your publicist, Anne, who was sitting across from you in the car. Next to her was your recently hired assistant, Nicole, watching the interaction with intent and curiosity.

"I was bored and had nothing to do. So, I thought why not." You shrugged.

"You're doing press in the next few weeks. You know, there's a possible chance they might ask you about it, right?"

You waved your hand, suprisingly nonchalant about it. " I'll handle it. Besides, you could do your charm and ask them not to ask me about my relationship right, Anne?"

Anne rolled her eyes and sighed, writing something in her notebook. "Sure, I'll tell James about it when we see him."

The red headed woman turned to the person next to her. "If James and I aren't the room, and the interviewers started asking personal stuff, tell them to change their question, okay? Be assertive."

Nicole nodded fervently. "Okay."

"Thanks guys. Sorry for being such a hassle."

"Oh, please, I've handled far worse." Anne revealed. "You're practically a goody two shoes compared to all the delinquents I've had before."

You leaned closer to Nicole, lowering your voice. "By that she means I'm her favourite."

Nicole smiled, finally loosening up.

"I can still hear you."

You flashed a grin. "I know. I'm only doing that for dramatic effect. I am an actor, you know."

Anne shook his head, though a smile still escaped her lips.

After twenty minutes of car ride filled with comfortable silence and the occasional small talk, the three of you finally arrived at the hotel where the start of the press tour will happpened. The tranquility of the morning turned into a string of boisterous activities that you've grown all too familiar with. Coffee, hair and make-up, another coffee, food, clothes, light snack, and finally the interview. Everything was fast-paced, constantly moving and never staying in one place for a second longer than necessary. It was understandable, the rushing, but that doesn’t mean you like it—you never did.

~~

You were on your fifth interviewer of the day, talking about your film, Companion of The West. A drama driven film about a group of people trying to solve the murder of a person that seemed to be connecting them all together. So far things have been going smoothly, although the questions have became repetitive, none have asked you intrusive question about your personal life. But, there was this nagging feeling inside you that something was about to go wrong. And, it did.

"So, y/n, you've been very busy this year, haven't you?"

You smiled at the interviewer in front of you. "Yeah, I think this has been my busiest year yet. But, you know, I think it's because there have been tons of good project that I was lucky enough to be offered and you know, I just want to get my hands on all of them."

Martin, the interviewer, nodded along. A question card in his hand. "Oh totally, I get that. I mean you’re at the top of your career right now. Wouldn’t want someone to take that away, right?

You frowned slightly. That's not what you meant at all. But, still you kept a friendly smile.

"It's not really about that honestly. It's just that I'm very grateful to be offered these past couple of roles that I've gotten, so I just wanted to be in it, you know."

"Yes, yes, of course. Moving on."

It was at that point when it finally dawn on you. Behind the smile and enthusiastic nature was someone with hidden intention. Martin was one of those people who lulled you into a false sense of security to get you to accidentally talk about something or twist your words to create false and unnecesary drama. You were once caught in the middle of it. When you were still new to the industry, all bright eyes and too naive. You talked too much and they used that on you. You shared a glance with Nicole, who seemed to have the same suspicion as you. She grew wary behind the camera and prepares to interfere if it was needed.

"Recently, you were trending again on Twitter." Martin mentioned. "Did you know about that?"

You nodded. "Yeah, my fans have a habit of getting me trending."

"And your fans seems to be particularly excited about your interaction with a certain someone.”

At this point, your friendly nature disappeared. Instead, you just sighed. A stoic and bored expression ddecorated your face.

"Yes. Are you going anywhere with this?"

Martin was amused at your sudden change in behaviour. "Is there someone new in your life? It's been awhile since you and Alex Moore ended your relationship. Are you not interested in dating anyone?"

Before you could speak, a small yet firm voice beat you to it. "I'm sorry, but we're not taking questions revolving y/n's personal life.”

Martin turned around. "It’s just the one. I’ll be quick.”

"I think you should leave."

At the sound of your voice, both Nicole and Martin turned to you.

"If that is your last question, which I doubt it is, then you should probably just leave now because I'm not answering it. You see this, Martin." You turned around, showing the film poster behind you. "I'm doing promo for this film. Not my personal life. So, if you have any backup questions regarding this film, by all means, ask them and I'll forget this ever happen but if you don't then the exit is behind you."

He opened his mouth but you raised your hand, cutting him off. "Look, man, I still have a whole lot of people waiting and honestly, you’re just wasting everyone’s time. So, why don't you just do us all a favor and leave? That way everyone in this room could all go home early."

Martin was stunned. He wasn't expecting this type of reaction from you.  

You sighed again. "You could leave on your own or I could call the security to escort you out. I'm fine either way."

Martin glanced around, expecting someone to come to his defend. When he found nothing but pointed looks thrown at him, he scoffed before and walked away without a single word.

"Well, he's a swell guy," You broke the silence, sarcasm very evident in your tone. 

A few snickers was heard around the room.

"Do you want to continue, y/n, or do you need a couple of minutes?" Nicole spoke.

"Give me a couple of minutes. I don't want to accidentally direct my anger to someone."

Nicole nodded. 

~~

After a majority of good interviewers and a few bad eggs, you finally finished the first day of many of your press junket. You were already on the verge of sleep, eyes drooping and barely making it through the last couple of interviewers. The next step of the agenda was to head home, pack your bags, and head to the airport to fly to the Big Apple. You and Nicole were in the SUV, heading to your place, whilst Anne and James took another car straight to the airport to make sure everything was set up and no paparazzi was in the area. 

With barely enough energy, you scrolled mindlessly through your phone, liking pictures and videos of friends and fans when you come across a post that managed to wake you up. Nicole noticed, surprised about your sudden awake state. You were almost asleep just a second ago.

"What, what, what's wrong?"

You ignored her. "Shit, shit, shit."

"y/n, what's wrong? Did that Martin guy say something bad about you? I'm sure Anne—"

"No, no, it's not that." You shook your head frantically. 

"Then, what is it?"

In an Instagram post, Lovejoy officially announced their upcoming tour with a link to purchase their tickets. This was both good and bad. Good, because that means you could see them play and you would finally meet Wilbur in person. Bad, because the post was posted three hours and tickets for all the shows announced was already sold out. You kept refreshing the page, hoping luck would be on your side and a single ticket to any of the shows would still be available for you to purchase. Unfortunately, luck was not found anywhere.

"Fuck." You threw your phone on the seat out of frustration. "God, why did it have to be today of all days?"

Nicole, frustrated that you weren't giving her an explanation, took and examined your phone. 

She frowned. "It's only a band gig, y/n. I'm sure you could see them play some other time. Hm, I haven't heard of them though. Are they any good?"

Again, you ignored her. "I'm supposed to see him."

~~

The car ride continued with you gazing out the window, saddened and Nicole trying to comfort you to the best of her abbilities even though she didn't quite get the situation. She knew it had something to do with the rumor—she learned about it when Anne pulled her aside to address it—or more precisely, the guy you were rumored with, but if you weren't together then why would you be upset about not going to his show or maybe you were but you were hiding it. She knew that was a thing for celebrities that like to keep their private life private and you certainly seemed to be the type.

When the car finally reached its destination, Nicole frowned at the sight of your lit house and a car parked on the driveway. When you, Anne and Nicole left your house earlier that day, there wasn't any car on the driveway and as far as she knew, you lived alone. Were you expecting someone to come by?

"Hey, y/n, why is your house lit? Do you have someone checking up your house whenever you're gone?"

You turned around from the other window. "Oh, that must be Sam. I told him to come by after I'm done before the flight to New York."

Without another word, you opened the passenger door and trudged toward the house with Nicole following you behind. You haven't told Wilbur about the ticket situation and a part of you didn't want to. You already said to him, multiple times even, how excited you were for his tour and now you forgotten about the fact that the tickets were sold today. He even told you about it yesterday after he finished his stream but you only just remembered it after seeing the post. 

"Hey there, stranger—woah, what happened to you?" Sam greeted you, a glass of wine in his hand. 

"I'm a forgetful idiot."

"Forgetful, yes. An idiot, that's arguable."

You sunk next to Sam, almost sliding down the couch. A pout on your face. "I forgot that Wil's band was selling their tickets for the shows today, so now I'm left with none because it's all sold out."

Sam winced. "Oof. That's tough."

You didn't respond, wallowing in self-pity. 

"Well, it's a good thing I manage to get my hands on a couple then.”

It took you a couple of seconds to grasp the meaning of Sam's words. When you did, you fixed your posture, stood straighter, eyes wide awake without a trace of fatigue in them. 

"You're fucking with me right now." You stared at him. "Do not play with me, Sam."

Sam smiled, placing his glass on the table. "I would love to, but I feel like you're either gonna hit me or cry if I do. So, I won't."

You screamed in excitement and proceed to tackle your best friend in a bear hug. Sam chuckled, listening to you showering him with appreaciation, gratitude, and love. Nicole who had just been minding her business in the kitchen, ran at the sound of your voice, only to grow confused at the sight of you two lying on the couch.

“Uh, is everything alright here?”

Both you and Sam looked up at her, you with the most brightest smile Nicole had ever seen that day.

“Everything’s perfect, Nicole.”

[thecameronchronicles]

Guy Code

TW: angst. Fluff. Hints at smut. 

SUMMARY: Pope's feelings for you come through to the surface. 

WORD COUNT: 1100

REQUESTED

Pope has a crush on JJs girlfriend and when he cheats on her he comforts her and confess his feelings 

Guy Code

POPE'S POV

I paced long enough that the stone beneath my feet had become worn and tethered from repetition. The speech prepared with each pointless step became iterated in sporadic pronunciation only to ultimately return to a blank page within my mind. Everything conjured from an apology to a full-blown confession weighed in waves within my mind. Just as I convinced myself a clear conscience would free my inability to hold such feelings behind distant smiles, I was reminded of how she was JJ's ex. And yet, at the same instance in which I would recall that detail, I thought of the tears she shed because of him. 

Of all of the reckless and even heartless things JJ has done in his endeavors to numb his own emotions, this had been the most bone-headed. And yet any thoughts to console her brought me to the recollection once again that she was forbidden. 

And yet, here I stood. Outside her house well beyond an appropriate hour, before that door finally opened. 

"Pope? What are you doing here?" My hands hid within my pockets as if I could shield myself the same. And suddenly as my lips parted to speak, every single word from my repertoire disappeared. Even the most basic. Which left only the most unappealing of half enunciations causing her to furrow her brows at me. 

"Did you…need something?" But as she asked, the sniffle iterated was enough for me to clench my fists. I was rarely the type of man to exercise emotion. But she deserved to cry from happiness alone. She was sweet and kind and compassionate. The parts of Kiara I may have found rousing. Only she was no more pogue than she was a kook. She was simply a girl whose heart had been broken by my closest friend. 

"I..I just wanted to make sure you were alright." I finally managed to explain my presence as she offered a kind smile. But the soft nod offered had become weak after only a single bob. 

"Do you want to come in?" I paused. Although she was a mutual friend long before that title changed to JJ's 'anything', accepting this invitation still felt as if I was committing the ultimate betrayal. Even if JJ had been the first to draw blood over our friendship when I'd told him of my interest in her, I believed my feelings for her would fade as she would have been good for him. But I was wrong. About my feelings. About JJ. About her. And because of this, I nodded and motioned to follow her inside against my better morality. 

But the second I took a step forward, those words suddenly returned tenfold. 

"No…I just came here to see if you were alright…"

"I'm…I don't know what I am…But you came all the way here to check on me?" 

I shrugged, acting as if I hadn't spent the last six months waiting for this very moment to transpire. As if my thoughts didn't linger on knowing , for even one second, of what it was like to hold her focus in that way. The kind of mine she always held. 

"I'm sorry…About what happened." She became nervous, no longer at ease in her stance. 

"Did…did JJ talk to you?"

"He locked himself away in The Chateau after you left…"

"So he didn't tell you anything?" 

"Should he have?" She paused, kicking her feet on the cement porch leading to the front door kept ajar. 

"You're making me..anxious."

"Me?" She nodded, pulling her hair behind her ear. "You always do…" She confessed as I hesitated to act. 

"You should go…" I nodded, taking the loss before even trying for the win. And yet, as I turned to leave, my tail between my legs, I called back to her. 

"No….'

"No?" 

"You deserve better. I love JJ, but he…you don't deserve what he did."

"Pope-" I took a step forward, knowing if I let her interrupt me that I'd lose the courage to continue to speak. 

"Please…Just let me say this once before implode…" She smiled. A soft smile I simply wanted to kiss for remembrance. 

"You're…You're brilliant. Stunning. Funny. Talented in everything you put your mind to. Raw and genuine. Giving and compassionate. Inspiring and sweet. And…You deserve someone who knows that…Someone who reminds you of that so much you're tired of hearing it….I'm just sorry he hurt you…" 

"He didn't…" My eyes narrowed. 

"It should have. But he was right."

"Right? About what?" My curiosity piqued as I took a step forward, more desperate to know than to remain indifferent. 

"How you make me nervous. How I can depend on you. How I look at you…It's why…you are why we broke up. Not because he cheated…because I didn't care that he did…I guess a part of me kinda hoped he would." Before I could stop my steps, they were set in her direction. Her hips taken by my grasp before one hand reached for her cheek at the last moment before my lips collided with her own. 

The most perfect buss to satiate a need I desired since I'd first met her. A passion and need that had only intensified since that day. And I would remain as long as I could as if to try and convince myself this was reality. After spending most nights and daydreams constructing this vision, it was nearly impossible to differentiate from fantasy. At least it has been until she pulled me deeper against her. Enough until she came to a rest at the paneling of the house. 

"I-"

"Just kiss me, Pope…please…" That soft but breathless cadence made me submissive to her. Her touch electrified every nerve as I would remain here until she rejected me or led me further. I would have shed every ounce of myself for her if she would have asked. 

"It should have been you…" She breathed as my lips fell down her jaw and to the curve of her neck between her ear and her pulse point, feeling it restless beneath my kiss. 

"It is now…" She moaned to the feeling of my hands rising higher from your waist, just brushing the curve of her breasts from beneath. A tease of my thumbs enough to change her course of modesty.

"Come inside…" She bit her bottom lip, leading me over the threshold with interlaced fingers, as I looked behind one final moment before following suit. A smile beaming across my face for the dream made a reality before me. And any consequence welcomed but ignored as I allowed myself to bask in what I would treasure and adore. The girl who should have always have been mine…

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