#i hope this is acceptable to all kevin lovers

[mochinon-yah]

Harmy:

So, hehe...

phainon

[glossdebut]

Take a Bite Ch. 5

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: SMUT, sexting, i guess a little bit of exhibitionism? not really but if we're splitting hairs, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, COMPLICATED FEELINGS! MEN NAMED KEVIN! YIJEONG?????

✧ WORDCOUNT: 7.4k (jesus christ)

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: TAKE A BITE 5 IS HERE!!!!!!!!! this chapter was ALMOST written in a planet fitness, but it wasn't. this chapter is also almost ENTIRELY smut, but the smut is important to the plot so leave me alone! i'm sorry to inform those of you that wanted more of yoongi's brain that this chapter is entirely reader pov, but there's a reason for that and i promise yoongi will be back before this story is complete <3

Chapter 5: I Think I Need Your Help

Next time can’t come soon enough.

Since Friday night, you’ve been alternating between being super proud of yourself for being direct and asking for what you want, and being equally repulsed by yourself for the way getting what you want has made you act. 

You’ve seen Yoongi once since the night in his studio, when he was coming home after pulling an all-nighter and you were on your way out to work, like two goddamn ships passing in the night.

You were in that barely functional state post-waking up where you were shocked you were even able to get your shoes on the correct feet before walking out the door, and the mere sight of him in a short-sleeved white t-shirt had you pausing where you stood and taking a looooong look. You’re that desperate. 

And he knows it, too. Exhausted as he looked, your blatant staring didn’t go unnoticed. Mercifully, though, Yoongi didn’t say anything. Just shook his head at you knowingly, smirking to himself as he pushed his front door open and stepped inside, presumably to go crash for a few hours.

You thought, foolishly, that a byproduct of your friends-with-benefits arrangement would be an ability to relax, loosen up a little bit so you’re able to be more productive during office hours. Don’t people say that about sex? That it clears the head? Well, those people have clearly never had Min Yoongi’s head between their legs.

You are decidedly not clear headed. You are wired, wanting, finding yourself zoning out in the middle of newsroom meetings thinking about Yoongi’s hands spreading your thighs, his lips wrapped around your clit, the way he groaned into your pussy. It’s fucking distracting.

You’ve never been like this before with anyone you’ve slept with. Sex with your ex had been good, even great sometimes, but you never really thought about it until it was happening. With Yoongi, you can’t seem to think about anything else.

Meanwhile, Yoongi has been busy, on a completely different sleep schedule from you all week. He’d given you fair warning before you left his studio Friday night, wobbly-legged and fucked out. He’s working on a very important track for an upcoming artist’s debut album, he’d told you. It’s due at the end of the day Friday, and he probably won’t have time for any… extracurriculars until it’s done. 

No big deal, you’d said! Dumb bitch.

It doesn’t help in the slightest that, as you’d hoped, nothing has really changed between you and Yoongi, aside from occasional suggestive texts (mostly initiated by your horny ass!!!!!!) exchanged throughout the day, sprinkled within normal conversation. No, Yoongi has continued to be himself: sweet, considerate, kind of nerdy. Sending you links to articles he finds interesting, or funny videos, or songs that he’s had on repeat. It is driving you insane.

On Thursday afternoon, you snap.

You open your phone on your lunch break to find that Yoongi has sent you not one, not two, but three devastatingly cute cat videos, and has provided his own commentary on them.

So, obviously, you text back with what you think is the only appropriate response to that kind of behavior. 

[12:14] You: i am begging you to put your cock inside me before i lose my mind

It is by far the most direct you’ve been since Friday night, far exceeding the coy flirtation you usually go for. You place your phone face-down on your desk with a shaky hand, staring down at your sad little salad. Lunch seems impossible now, what with your heartbeat thrumming in your ears and all.

Your phone buzzes not even a minute later, twice. Which stands to reason. You wanted Yoongi’s attention, and now you’ve got it. You take a deep breath through your nose and turn your phone back over.

[12:15] Yoongi: You’re begging, huh?

[12:15] Yoongi: You’re at work, baby. Can’t focus? Need it that bad?

Um. Yes, yes you do. And the way that you can practically hear his voice right now, in your ear, teasing. Fuck. Not helping.

You pick up your phone, hiding yourself behind the monitor at your desk so nobody in the office can see how flushed you’ve become all of a sudden. You’re on your lunch, and they should mind their damn business.

[12:16] You: yes

[12:17] Yoongi: You know I can’t help you until I’m done with my track.

That’s pretty much the response you expected, but you can’t help feeling frustrated about it anyway. He can’t take a break for an hour? You’d even settle for thirty minutes!

[12:18] You: i think you can and you’re just making me wait to be an asshole

[12:18] You: which is really dumb because i can just come to your studio tonight when i get off of work and you can take a break

[12:19] You: let me ride you in your chair

[12:19] You: fuck. you don’t even have to stop working yoongi

You’re acting desperate, you know that. You know how you sound. But you are desperate, can’t help it. Yoongi opened the floodgates to over three years of pent-up sexual frustration with his stupid tongue, and now it’s his fucking responsibility to deal with it.

You watch as the bubble pops up to indicate that he’s typing, and then disappears, then reappears again. Ha. Maybe you actually got him.

[12:22] Yoongi: If you think calling me names is gonna get you what you want, you’ve got another thing coming.

[12:22] Yoongi: You can come to the studio tonight if you really want to. But I can guarantee that you’re not getting my cock.

[12:23] Yoongi: Except maybe in that fucking mouth to give it something better to do than complain.

Holy shit maybe not!

[12:23] You: oh my god

You had a feeling, of course, that Yoongi liked being in control, that he liked to guide. He had coaxed your desires out of you so sweetly Friday night, letting you tell him what you wanted, but how he did it was his choice. But this is more than guiding. He’s telling you what’s going to happen if you come over. You shift in your chair, your thighs clenching.

[12:24] Yoongi: Hey. Tell me if this is okay, Y/N.

You can practically hear the words in his voice, soft, like when he asked you to stay when Seokjin came over to cook. The stark difference between this and the texts immediately before are almost enough to make your head spin. He’s giving you an out if you’re not into this. But you are into it.

[12:24] You: yeah

[12:24] You: yes. it’s okay

[12:25] Yoongi: I need you to tell me if I say or do something you don’t like, okay? No matter what.

[12:25] You: i will

[12:25] Yoongi: Good girl.

God. Being this turned on at work feels like a crime.

[12:26] Yoongi: I’m not trying to be mean, baby. I already told you, I’m dying to fuck you. I wasn’t just saying that.

[12:27] Yoongi: But when I fuck you, I want to be able to take my time.

[12:27] Yoongi: Wanna have you in my bed and not in my studio, first of all. All spread out for me so I can see all of you.

[12:28] Yoongi: Wanna taste you again. I can’t stop thinking about how good you taste, fuck. I didn’t take it slow enough last time, didn’t get to savor it, but I’m gonna fix that. Gonna make you come with my tongue again before you even get my cock, get you nice and wet for me.

[12:29] Yoongi: Not that it takes much. Bet you’re wet right now, aren’t you? Just from this?

Oh, he’s so mean. Your thighs clench again and you chew on your bottom lip as you type, hyperaware of the way the thin fabric of your panties clings to your sex. It feels so dirty, knowing that in a few minutes you’ll have to work like this. You’ll have to talk to your colleagues like this, pretend like nothing’s amiss. You’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t turn you on even more.

[12:29] You: yeah. god, yoongi. i am

[12:30] Yoongi: Yeah. I know, baby. It’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you when I can. Gonna make you feel so good. You sounded so sweet when you came for me last time. Can’t wait to hear what kind of pretty noises you’ll make when I get to have you properly.

[12:31] Yoongi: Fuck, Y/N. If you think I don’t wish I was with you right this second you’re insane. Been dreaming about your pussy. But I wanna do this the right way.

You believe him. Even through your phone, you can feel it—that raw honesty that Yoongi always gives you. He’s been agonizing over this just as much as you have. It makes you feel a little bad, honestly, that you so wantonly distracted him like this, when he’s been working so hard this week. Maybe part of you wanted to get back at him for denying you what you wanted on Friday, but now, you realize that you’re glad he did. You want all of that, too. Everything he said, every word of it. Just because this is casual doesn’t mean you have to rush.

Maybe it’s time for you to give him a little honesty of your own.

[12:32] You: i want that too

[12:32] You: shit i have to go back to work soon but i promise i’m not trying to rush this i just…

[12:32] You: really, really want you

[12:33] Yoongi: I want you too.

[12:33] Yoongi: Soon, okay? Really really soon if I can help it.

You look up from your phone when the chime of an Outlook notification snaps you out of your bubble, directing your attention to an email from your boss. With a longsuffering sigh, you click it open. He wants to talk to you as soon as you’re available, and your salad isn’t going to eat itself, so you resign yourself to letting Yoongi get back to work.

[12:35] You: soon

[12:35] You: go back to work. that grammy isn’t gonna win itself

[12:36] Yoongi: Lmfao. Go back to work, she says, as if she didn’t just give me the most persistent boner of my life unprovoked.

[12:36] You: motivation!

[12:36] Yoongi: Motivation for me to do more inappropriate shit in my place of business, maybe. But it’s a lot sadder when I’m by myself.

[12:37] You: wowwwww pics or it didn’t happen

[12:37] Yoongi: YOU go back to work, pervert.

You do. Begrudgingly.

You quickly type an email to your boss, just a cursory, ‘There are fifteen minutes left in my lunch, and then I’ll be there. Thanks Kevin!’ Afterwards, you scarf down your lunch. And you finally watch those cat videos Yoongi sent you, which effectively tamps down your horny high enough for you not to feel icky about meeting with your boss. 

★ ★ ★

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, you’re knocking on Kevin’s door.

You like your boss well enough. As much as one can like their boss, maybe, give or take a bad day. Kevin is nice, but his name is stupid, and he certainly doesn’t live up to your expectations of what a music journalism editor would be like when you first applied to Look Here Magazine.

Foolishly, you expected someone straight out of Almost Famous: young, wears band t-shirts beneath blazers, a chainsmoker, a little bit sleazy, with music knowledge to put Nardwuar to shame. Instead, what you got is a mostly-bald, clean-cut, mid-forties guy who wears khakis most days of the week and says things like ‘circle back’ and ‘best practice.’ He’s competent, sure, and you need him to like you, absolutely, but he does make your job feel a little less cool. But who knows! Maybe Kevin rocks out on the weekends. You certainly don’t, so who are you to judge?

Kevin waves you in, and before you even have the chance to sit down, he’s dropping a bomb on you that makes you feel like your legs are going to give out beneath you.

“You’re taking charge on the Yijeong profile piece,” he says flippantly as peers over his glasses at his monitor, typing without pause.

There’s absolutely no way you just heard that right. Yijeong's profile was assigned already, to a reporter who has been at Look Here a lot longer than you. You tell Kevin as much, as if he wasn’t in the newsroom when the piece was pitched in the first place.

“Sora didn’t have enough bandwidth to juggle the profile and the reunion tour coverage, and that’s going to be on the cover,” Kevin says, without even a passing glance to you. As if he isn’t altering the trajectory of your career over a scheduling conflict. “It’s all you, kid.”

“I don’t have the contacts,” you blurt out, having mercy on your poor, wobbly legs as you sit down.

“Ask Sora for the contacts.”

“Don’t you want someone more experienced for this? Connected?”

It’s not that you don’t want it. Writing a profile on someone like Jang Yijeong is a dream come true for someone as green as you are. It may not be the cover article, but the headline will be written on the cover, and so far you’ve only written the puff pieces that readers likely use to pad outgoing mail. If you do this right, there’s a chance of less puff pieces and more real journalism.

It’s the if that scares you. Jang Yijeong has rebranded his entire career from being an idol to being a producer, so he’s technically considered an up-and-coming artist where Look Here is concerned. Nobody has heard his name in a few years, and a piece on him by a publication like Look Here could make him the most sought after producer in the country, if he plays it right. 

But Yijeong has also been in the music industry for a long time. He’s been interviewed by countless reporters. He’s media trained. Good media training is a death sentence for profiles, which are supposed to dig deep into the subject. Trust is everything in this kind of situation, and if Look Here sends a rookie like you to interview Jang Yijeong without the proper connections, without someone to vouch for you, he will show up to the interview with a script in hand. The profile will be a dud and your career will pay the price.

Sighing, Kevin finally stops typing, looking at you for the first time since you walked into his office. You shift in your seat, trying to make yourself look less fucking terrified.

“Look, I could hand it off to someone else, but you’ve been doing a good job these past couple of weeks. In your interview, you told me you’re most interested in writing features. That you’re good at it. I’m throwing you a bone,” he says, and you take a shaky breath. “Take the piece. Don’t try to reinvent the wheel. You’ve written profiles before, you know what to do. Just ask good questions, don’t be stiff, and you’ll be fine.”

Kevin’s phone rings, and his attention is stolen again as he picks it up to answer it without a second thought. “Talk to Sora, and then take the day out in the field tomorrow to see what kind of background you can dig up,” he says, waving you out with the same indifference he waved you in with. You scramble to stand up, rushing to leave.

“Deadline is Wednesday!” he calls as you shut the door behind you, taking a moment to catch your breath before you try to find Sora.

Holy shit.

You have work to do.

★ ★ ★

You spend your entire day on Friday pounding pavement, milking all of Sora’s sources for what they’re worth, but you don’t learn any information about Jang Yijeong that you can’t find on his Wikipedia page.

You don’t give up easily, though. No, you plan to put your investigative reporting skills to good use, via a healthy session of social media stalking. You can find out a lot about someone from what they post on X and Instagram, after all. You have to reach out to Yijeong’s label to schedule an interview as soon as possible, and if you have to get your hard hitting questions based off of what you can glean from a meal he photographed in 2013, so be it.

It’s ten at night by the time you flop onto your bed, phone in hand, ready to pull an all-nighter and plunge yourself into the rabbit hole that is Jang Yijeong’s social media. Pepper hops up with you, curling up on your stomach and purring contentedly as you start scrolling.

Nearly two hours and ten possible interview questions later, your phone buzzes in your hand. It’s Yoongi.

[11:47] Yoongi: Are you coming over or not?

Oh, fuck. It’s Friday. Meaning Yoongi is done with his track.

You’d almost forgotten how horny you’d been for the past week, completely absorbed in your assignment. It stands to reason that as soon as Yoongi is free, you’re suddenly swamped with work of your own. But, of course, it all comes rushing back just from a text.

Whatever! You’ve been at it for hours, anyway. You deserve a break.

[11:49] You: when did you get home?

[11:49] Yoongi: About half an hour ago.

[11:50] You: hmmmm… did you take a shower?

[11:50] Yoongi: Obviously. I’ve been in the studio for most of the week. I’m not an animal.

You snort to yourself, which scares the shit out of Pepper after your complete silence for the past two hours. You’re suddenly proud that you had the foresight to take a shower of your own when you got home from interrogating people all day, although this wasn’t on your mind at the time. 

[11:50] You: leave the door open?

[11:51] Yoongi: Will do.

You very carefully nudge Pepper off of your stomach, giving yourself a cursory glance in your mirror once you’re up. You make sure that your hair looks good at least, but your clothes don’t matter as much. It’s not like they’ll be on for long anyway.

Satisfied with what you see, you make your way through your apartment, grabbing your keys to lock your door on your way out.

Maybe it’s the workload that was dumped on you yesterday, but you feel much more level headed about this than you thought you would. It’s like your body has finally caught up with your brain, and you can recognize this part of your relationship with Yoongi for what it actually is: stress relief. You’ll go to his apartment, he’ll give it to you so good, and then you’ll go back to work and he won’t care because, like he told you before, he gets it. You’re giddy just thinking about it.

Walking into Yoongi’s apartment isn’t daunting, nor is locking the door behind you. Nor is finding him on his couch and climbing into his lap without even a hello, crushing your lips to his the way you’ve spent all week dreaming about.

Yoongi makes a surprised noise against your mouth, his hands hovering at your waist, but he quickly melts into the kiss, letting you take the lead for a moment as his hands find their place, pulling you closer. It’s only when you tease the seam of his lips with your tongue, silently requesting entry that he pulls back, forcing you to breathe.

“Hi,” he says, clearly amused by your enthusiasm.

“Hi,” you parrot back, grinning.

His hands slip from your waist to your hips as he looks you over, toying with the fabric of your sleep shorts. “Remember what we talked about yesterday?” You hum coyly, guiding his hand under the hem, which makes him huff, shaking his head with a smirk. “Wanting to do this the right way,” he reminds you, quickly removing his hand from where you led it, instead opting to smooth it over the curve of your ass.

“Easier said than done,” you reply, feeling bold enough to take the initiative that he won’t and sliding your hands under his shirt, running them over his abdomen. The fabric bunches up, and you can’t help but stare at the tantalizing inch of pale skin you’re rewarded with.

You gasp in surprise at the light spank Yoongi gives your ass in return, not nearly hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough for you to pull your hands away. You know a warning when you see one—or feel one, that is. When you look up at him, he’s raising an eyebrow at you.

“Thought you said you wanted it like that,” he hums, rubbing over where he smacked you. “There’s always the alternative.”

Oh. That.

You wish you could say the thought of letting Yoongi fuck your throat wasn’t appealing, but there’s no hiding the way it makes you squirm, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. Yoongi hasn’t been particularly rough with you yet, but he’s hinted that he can be, if you want it. You imagine his hand on your jaw, encouraging you to open wider for him. Your eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. You still don’t know what his dick looks like, how thick it’ll feel on your tongue, how much your jaw will ache, but you’re eager to fill in the blanks of your imagination. You’ll definitely take him up on that one day, but no, he’s right. 

You want to come. You want him to make you come. As stubborn as you are, you can’t deny that.

“You can take your time,” you mumble, meeting his eyes. 

He smiles, bringing his free hand up to cup your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek like it did that night in his studio. “Good girl,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a sweet kiss that makes you moan, shifting your hips to grind against the bulge you feel stiffening under you. 

Yoongi pulls away from your lips with a chuckle, patting your hip gently. “Up,” he says, and you scramble to your feet, no more bratty attitude to be found at the moment. 

He stands with you, guiding you by the hand to his bedroom. Since he’s so adamant about taking his time, you take a moment to glance around the room, taking in all the little things about it that reflect what you’ve learned about Yoongi over the past several weeks.

Like the rest of his apartment, his bedroom is much cleaner than you would’ve assumed. There’s a desk with a small home studio setup, much more sparse than what you’ve seen in his actual studio. The equipment looks old and well-loved, and you wonder how long he’s had it. A basketball jersey hanging over his desk chair with his name emblazoned on the back. A dresser with various jewelry scattered on top, chains and rings and earrings. 

His bed, of course, takes up the most space in the room. Where you have a queen bed in your own bedroom, you note that his is clearly a king, with a soft looking black comforter over top. A comforter that you’re about to be pressed into, you think. 

Yoongi comes up behind you, his hands on your waist, lips on your neck trailing kisses over your nape and making you shiver.

“Relax,” he murmurs, huffing a laugh that you feel more than hear. “Lie down for me?”

You nod, walking to the bed and settling flat on your back. God, is this a Purple mattress? You hate him a little bit. You found your mattress on the side of the road.

Yoongi doesn’t give you long to stew on your hatred, though. Not when he’s spreading your legs, your feet planted flat on the mattress beneath you so he can fit his hips between your thighs. Not when you can feel how hard he is already, even through the layers separating you.

He kisses you again, long and slow and hot, all of your breath leaving your lungs at the feeling of his lips on yours. “Remember to stop me,” he mumbles between kisses. “If I do something you don’t like.”

You honestly find it hard to believe that Yoongi could do anything you wouldn’t like, but you nod your head jerkily in response, not wanting to separate from his lips for any longer than necessary.

Soon, he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck as his hands push your shirt up slowly, only separating himself from you to pull it off entirely and toss it aside on the mattress.

“Fuck,” he groans at the discovery that you aren’t wearing a bra, his hands immediately coming up to squeeze your breasts. “Wanted to make it easy for me, huh, baby?” 

In reality, you’d just been dressed for bed, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him that, unable to form the words as his lips travel down to your chest, his tongue coming out to lave over a nipple.

You moan, your head falling back onto the mattress under you with a dull ‘thunk’ as Yoongi wraps his lips around the sensitive bud and sucks, your hands flying up to tangle in his hair.

“You like that,” he teases, a statement and not a question. He lifts his head, looking down at your tits with his bottom lip between his teeth. “So pretty, baby.” 

Your cheeks flush warmly at the praise, and desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, your hands slide down to his chest, fisting in his shirt and tugging.

“Your turn,” you breathe, and he chuckles as he sits up on his knees, tugging his shirt over his head.

You can’t help but stare. It’s not that you thought that Yoongi would be skinny, per se, but he does have a tendency to wear clothes a little too big for him, dwarfing him, and given his already small stature due to his height… Not that you would’ve minded in the slightest if he was on the scrawnier side, but Christ. He’s decidedly not scrawny. He’s lean, with shoulders broader than you would’ve given him credit for at a passing glance. 

And now here you are, gifted with an expanse of pale, smooth skin over compact muscle. Your eyes roam over him, from dusky nipples all the way down to the thin trail of dark hair starting right under his navel and leading your gaze down to where his cock strains against his sweatpants.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to touch somebody so badly in your life. The best part is that you can.

And you do. You feel greedy, your hands reaching out to smooth over his chest, down his abdomen, your eyes half-lidded and lips parted in a daze. 

Yoongi lets you touch all you want, but when your hands move down to cup his erection through his sweatpants, you hear his breath hitch as he stops you, shaking his head and pinning your arm to the mattress gently.

“Your turn,” he murmurs softly, throwing your words right back at you. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tilting his head at you as he starts to pull them down, the movement torturously slow. “Wanna see if you skipped the panties, too.”

You lift your hips so he can pull them down the rest of the way. You are not, in fact, wearing panties, because you were going the fuck to sleep originally, and you hear him suck in a breath after the shorts are discarded.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” he breathes. You ignore the funny thing your heart does in your chest at his words, opting instead to focus on his hand drawing closer to you.

You both moan when his fingers slide over you, finding you soaked once again.

“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses as he gathers your slick with his fingers. He drags them slowly up to your sensitive bundle of nerves and circles around it, only to slide back down again, repeating the motion again and again. You moan every time he reaches your clit, your hips bucking up into his touch.

“This pussy,” he starts, and you lift your head at sudden motion as he sinks down to lay on his stomach, holding himself up with his elbows, “gets so fucking wet for me.”

His pupils are blown as he hooks your legs over his shoulders, just like last time, but instead of going right for it, Yoongi starts pressing kisses to your thigh. Your head falls back onto the mattress again, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he continues to speak. 

“Been thinking about this all week,” Yoongi mumbles into your skin, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, forcing a gasp out of you. “You make it impossible to focus, you know that?”

A high, needy whine falls from your lips as he suddenly runs the tip of his tongue between your folds, and when you lift your head to watch, he pulls away, his dark eyes meeting yours in a smoldering gaze.

“I could’ve been done with that track on fucking Tuesday,” he says, dipping down again to wrap his lips around your clit and suck, making you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair again. “Do you know how many times I jerked off thinking about being between these thighs again?”

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whimper, his words conjuring images that make you feel as though you’re coming apart at the seams. Yoongi chuckles darkly, pressing a kiss to your clit.

“Yeah, that’s my girl,” he praises, his tone so dark it sends a shiver down your spine. “Gonna make you say my name like that again, baby. You want it?”

“Yes,” you gasp out without a second thought. You need his mouth on you so bad you feel like you’re going to explode. “Shit, please.”

“So polite.”

Yoongi doesn’t make you wait any longer, his head dipping back down again so he can taste you properly, the flat of his tongue licking slowly over your pussy.

“Thank you,” you moan, the words slipping out completely outside of your control. Yoongi’s movements pause for just a fraction of a second, and suddenly you’re overwhelmed with the worry that ‘thank you’ was a fucking weird thing to say to the guy eating you out. But then you feel Yoongi’s responding moan right into your cunt, the vibrations making your eyes roll back into your head, and his tongue resumes its movements. 

True to his word, he’s taking his sweet time, savoring every bit of you, but you don’t fucking care. You want his cock, desperately, but he can stay down there for hours if he really wants to so long as it feels like this.

You lose track of time, your thighs trembling around his head as you lose yourself in the feeling of his tongue, but you’re quite literally yanked back into the moment when Yoongi lifts his head again, forcefully dragging you closer and latching his lips around your clit. 

“Fuck, fuck—Yoongi, fuck!” you cry out as Yoongi makes it abundantly clear that he’s no longer interested in dragging this out any longer. The way he’s eating you out now is going to make you come, and soon. 

You can hear the wet, filthy sounds of his mouth on you, even over the blood pulsating through your ears, even over the way you’re moaning for him as your orgasm barrels closer. 

Your fingers pull at his hair, your hips shifting to grind against his tongue, and he moans into you again, his hands grasping at your hips to help you move. You take the action for what it is: he wants you to come. Like, now. Well, he doesn’t have to fucking tell you twice.

For the second time, you come from Yoongi’s tongue, writhing beneath him as you moan helplessly. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your muscles clenching and unclenching as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. 

Yoongi works you through it, but unlike last time he can sense your impending overstimulation before you need to push him away, shifting to sit up on his knees as you catch your breath. 

“So fucking sexy,” he grunts, running his hands over your body as his eyes trail over you appreciatively. 

Shit, he’s one to talk. He looks so hot like this, his hair a mess from your pulling, his lips and chin slick from your pussy. 

Not to mention, just like last time, he’s so fucking hard. The only difference is that this time, he’ll let you have it.

“Wanna touch you,” you breathe, already pushing up shakily to slide your hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Yoongi makes no move to stop you, his breath hitching as your hand wraps around him.

His length feels thicker than you expected in your hand, your mind instantly wandering to how it’s going to feel inside of you very soon. You don’t think you’ve ever taken something this thick before, and you want it so fucking bad.

“Shit, baby, just like that,” Yoongi grits out as you start pumping him slowly, his hips bucking forward into your hand. “Feels so good.”

You lean up to capture his lips with yours, tasting yourself on his tongue as the kiss quickly turns sloppy and desperate, lacking all finesse but somehow still so goddamn sexy. All the while, you keep touching him, his breath coming out shaky through his nose as he licks into your mouth with heat. 

When your grasp on his cock gets a little firmer, his hips stutter and his hand comes up to grasp your wrist again, urgently halting your movements.

“Gotta stop. ‘m gonna come if you keep doing that,” he says, pulling away. There’s a flush in his cheeks, spreading down to his chest. It’s almost cute, but then he opens that fucking mouth again, his eyes locked on yours. “Wanna come inside you.”

Fuck.

“Yeah,” you breathe in agreement, nodding jerkily and pulling your hand from his pants in an instant. “Want that. Fuck me.”

Yoongi groans, his eyes shutting tightly. He shakes his head. “Need a minute,” he says, his voice almost pained. “Fuck, you’re too much.”

He busies himself with reaching over your body and across the bed, pulling open the drawer of his bedside table. You keep your hands to yourself, ignoring the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch again. If he needs a minute, he can have it. You’ve waited this long.

Once his body returns to yours, he tosses a condom next to you on the bed before dipping down to kiss you again. His lips are gentle on yours this time, slow and almost sweet, unlike any way he’s kissed you so far. The chasteness of it throws you off, but it isn’t necessarily unwelcome—not from Yoongi, at least. He’s probably just trying to chill the fuck out so he doesn’t come too fast, you reason.

After a few minutes, though, Yoongi’s lips part from yours and he presses one last kiss to your temple, reaching for the condom beside you.

“Ready?” he asks, the edge of the foil packet held between his teeth as he sits up, using both hands to push his sweatpants down.

Your eyes are glued to him as he rips the packet open carefully, rolling the condom onto his cock. Your imagination never would’ve done him justice. The sight of his long fingers wrapped around his length is enough for your last thread of patience to snap.

“I think I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now,” you say honestly, your eyes unmoving from his cock, and he laughs, sliding a hand up your thigh.

“Dramatic,” he teases, his fingers trailing over your pussy, ensuring that you’re still wet enough to take him. “You think you’re ready for it?” he asks, two fingers prodding at your entrance before they start fucking into you easily. 

You whine, your back arching as his fingers scissor inside your pussy. “Can’t wait anymore,” you gasp out, and he relents, withdrawing his fingers to wrap them around his cock, shifting so he’s over you again.

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing yours at this proximity. You feel the blunt head of his cock running through your folds, one last tease, before he lines himself up with your entrance. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Promise.”

Your legs wrap around his hips as he slowly eases in, his breath shuddering next to your ear as he fills you bit by bit. The stretch makes your head spin, but Yoongi takes his time just like he promised, rubbing your hip soothingly to keep you relaxed.

“Finally,” you breathe when he finally bottoms out, and he laughs.

“Yeah? Gonna thank me again?” Yoongi jokes, but the way his cock twitches inside you betrays the way he really feels about that.

“Maybe when you make me come,” you quip in return, but his hips draw back, giving an experimental thrust back into you, and suddenly nothing is all that funny anymore.

You both moan, and Yoongi trails his nose up the side of your neck as he does it again, setting a rhythm of long, slow strokes.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, the wrecked sound of his voice sending a flare of arousal through you, causing your walls to clench around his cock. “You feel so good.”

All you can do is moan in response, your arms looping around his shoulders, hands in his hair. “Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he grits out, fucking into you just a little bit faster, a little bit deeper.

“Like that,” you gasp out, fingers tightening in his hair out of desperation.

“Yeah?” he groans, snapping his hips into you with more force now. “You want it harder, baby?” At your choked ‘yes’, it’s like a switch has flipped, Yoongi’s hips snapping into you so forcefully you see stars, your thighs beginning to shake on either side of him as he slams into you.

His hands smooth up your thighs, deep thrusts continuing uninterrupted as he positions your legs, pinning your thighs between your bodies so you’re practically folded in half, and oh, fuck. The angle change makes the head of Yoongi’s cock hit the spot that makes you cry out, your nails dragging down the length of his back as you become instantly aware that you’re going to come soon.

“Mm–Yoongi, fuck, please don’t stop—I’m so close, please—”

“Taking me so good,” he groans. “Touch yourself, baby. Make yourself come, I’m right there with you.”

You obey instantly, your hand sliding down between your bodies to rub your clit with two fingers. Your walls flutter around him, making him hiss as you teeter on the edge of your impending orgasm.

Yoongi braces himself, held up with his hands on either side of you. It’s his eyes on you, his lip between his teeth as he watches you touch yourself that finally sends you hurtling over the edge. You squeeze tightly around him as you come, your body convulsing under him as the pleasure washes over you, his name falling from your lips over and over.

“Nghh, good girl, shit,” he grunts, the rhythm of his hips instantly becoming erratic. “Fuck, Y/N. Gonna come.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you feel Yoongi’s body tense, his cock pulsing inside of you as he spills into the condom with a groan. He drops down to his elbows carefully, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss, his lips moving languidly over yours. 

You kiss him back, but after a few moments you’re suddenly hyper aware of how… intimate this feels, kissing like this as he softens inside of you. You pull away to look up at him. “Thank you,” you say, grinning tiredly as you try to break the tension surrounding the moment.

It seems to work, because Yoongi laughs breathlessly, pulling out of you with care and shifting off of the bed to dispose of the condom. “Funny,” he says.

You take the opportunity to sit up, despite your body feeling like jelly. You don’t think you can take Yoongi cleaning you up on top of what just occurred.

“Bathroom?” you ask, heading to it when he points you in the right direction.

You clean yourself up quickly, and when you return Yoongi is, mercifully, dressed again and retrieving your shorts from the floor for you. You take them with a small, grateful smile, pulling your shorts and top back on.

“So you got your track done?” you ask, trying to make some light conversation.

Yoongi scoffs, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Few hours ago,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you a little funny. Whatever he’s thinking, though, he doesn’t say it. “How was your week, anyway? I know I was a little M.I.A.”

You brighten the slightest bit at his question, joining him on the bed. “Actually,” you say. “Something pretty cool happened yesterday afternoon.”

“Yeah?”

“I kind of got entrusted with this huge assignment. I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull it off, but if I do, it’s a career changer, for sure.”

“Oh yeah?” he says, grinning at you. “That’s great, Y/N. You deserve it.”

His praise makes you blush, looking down to pick at a loose thread on his comforter. You only blush because you know he means it. Yoongi actually reads your stuff. Rina doesn’t even really read your stuff, and she’s your best friend. But maybe it’s because Yoongi is in the music industry and the stuff you publish is more interesting to him.

Yoongi is in the music industry.

It’s like a lightbulb goes off in your head, and you shift closer to him.

“Actually,” you say. “I’m kind of struggling with it? And I was wondering, um… I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out a little bit. Do you happen to know Jang Yijeong?”

Yoongi stiffens next to you, not a lot, but enough for you to notice from this close. “Yeah, I know him,” he says anyway. “We’re friends.”

You’re confused by his reaction, but you soldier on. “I just need an interview with him. I need someone he can trust to set me up with him so he doesn’t give me scripted bullshit, you know? And… If you could be the one to do that, it would make my life a million times easier, honestly.”

For a long moment, Yoongi says nothing, not really looking at you. You don’t know what you said to get this reaction out of him, but you don’t like it, and you’re about to take back your request entirely when he speaks again.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him,” he says. He’s looking at you now, which makes you relax a bit.

“Really?” you ask softly. “Only if you’re okay with it, but it would seriously be a huge help.”

“Yeah, I’ll put in a good word,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. He suddenly seems much less stiff, like whatever weird moment that just took place has passed now, and he laughs. “Just promise you won’t make me regret it.”

At ease, you snort, rolling your eyes. “I promise,” you say flatly, nudging his shoulder with yours. Your voice softens. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” he says easily, getting up from the bed and making his way to the door. “Have you eaten? I’m gonna make kimchijeon.”

Yoongi really is saving your ass. After fucking you so nicely, too. And now he’s making you midnight kimchijeon!

“That sounds good,” you call after him, smiling to yourself after he’s left the room.

Yeah, you can get used to this.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro @butterymin @coffeedepressionsoup

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[archiveikemen]

Victor 1st Birthday Campaign: Story (2024)

His POV

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Warnings and FAQ

The darkness of the night was my friend, and death was myself.

Today too, I walked, and walked, and walked in the darkness.

Then, I suddenly turned around.

Look, over there – a bloodied, blissful look of death.

…

Kate: Victor, Harrison lent me a book recently, so…

I did my own work, while Kate did the work she had as the fairytale writer.

Working in the same office together and listening to her stories gradually became a part of my everyday life.

(... She looks happy. She’s become a true member of Crown now.)

Kate: Right, about the matter regarding the maid Marianne that I discussed with you a few days back—

Victor: Ah, give her a few days off work. Meeting up with a long-distance lover is a very important occasion.

When I told her that I had already settled the matter we were in the midst of discussing, she blinked in surprise.

Kate: Victor… at approximately what time do you usually go to sleep?

Victor: Usually?

Kate: I understand that you have a heavy workload, and that’s something I can never deal with.

Kate: But whenever I approach you for something I want to discuss, you immediately resolve the matter on your own…

Victor: Ehh~~ are you perhaps praising me? Goodness, I’m overjoyed!

Victor: But unfortunately, I need to sleep as well. I’m a human being, after all. I only have so much time in a day.

Victor: Which means, the matters you bring up to me are of extremely high priority compared to the other things I have on hand.

Kate: … Thank you, Victor.

Victor: I thank you too, for caring about the other staff working here.*

*Victor actually referred to them as “kids”

Kate: Also… you can forget that I said anything if it turns out to be a misunderstanding, but…

Victor: … Hm?

Kate: Do you have something that’s been bothering you lately, Victor?

Kate: Things that make you unhappy…

(This girl is very observant and sharp.)

Those sincere eyes of hers deserve a sincere reply.

Victor: I have a mission with William tonight, and it’s not one that puts me in a good mood.

I was made aware of the existence of an organisation hat made Her Majesty the symbol of their beliefs — in other words, they worship her like a god.

(People are entitled to their religious beliefs, and Crown has no rights to interfere on that, however…)

There was word that the organisation abducted women and imprisoned them to be worshipped, and those who held no physical resemblance to Her Majesty were killed.

Victor: Tonight, we will investigate the organisation and punish them if found guilty.

Kate: … To think they’d kill people over their religious beliefs.

Victor: Kate, because this mission might make you uncomfortable—

Not giving me a chance to finish my sentence, she responded with a stern look.

Kate: Victor, can you allow me to accompany you on this mission as the fairytale writer?

Out of respect for her wish, I accepted her request and we headed to the organisation’s base that night.

…

William: We found the belongings of the missing women, blood stains, and bodies. They have no way to defend themselves now.

Kate: Means to say… they’re guilty?

Tommy Yeager, aristocrat. Leah Rodríguez, congresswoman. Kevin Nicholson…

(This is a lot of important people.)

Out of greed for greater power, they worshipped the Queen and hoped that she would fulfil their wishes.

William: There are two possible venues for tonight’s ritual; one is the top floor of this mansion, and the other is the basement.

Victor: Kate and I will go down to the basement. We shall proceed immediately, in order to prevent any more sacrifices.

Kate: Okay…

William: Victor, how much “mercy” do you want to show tonight?

Victor: — No need for any. Their wrongdoings are deserving of condemnation. Give into your wickedness, Will.

Not wanting Kate to witness anything horrifying, I prayed that we weren’t headed for where our “prize” was.

…

(Ahh, turns out the basement is indeed where our “prize” is at.)

In the basement was what appeared to be an altar, candlelight flickering.

A group of people in masquerade surrounded the altar, laying at the centre was a young girl who looked of tender years.

(Is that the “substitute” for Her Majesty? … Utterly heinous.)

I noticed that one of the men was about to lower the candle in his hand onto the girl’s arm, and I reflexively took a step forward.

— But Kate beat me to it.

Kate: … STOP!

Masked Red-Haired Man: Wha– what’s with this woman!? Let go, get your hands off me…

Kate: Please let that girl go! Ahh…!

In that split second, Kate was shoved into the altar and instantly collapsed onto the ground.

Victor: Kate…? Kate…

(She’s alright, she’s still breathing. She only lost consciousness…)

— There was something on the ground next to her, it seemed that it fell out during her fall.

(Oh, this is…)

– Flashback Start –

Victor: Kate, you’ll be following Elbert and Roger on their mission tonight.

Kate: Okay. I’m still not used to this, I hope I won't get in their way.

Victor: I see. In that case, take this with you.

Kate: … A Cameo hair ornament?

Victor: May it keep you out of harm’s way.

Kate: Fufu, I feel safe knowing that you’re always on a lookout for me.

Kate: Thank you very much, Victor! I’ll be on my way.

– Flashback End –

(... This is the hair ornament I gifted you back when you first joined Crown.)

(You’ve been keeping it by your side like a protective charm…)

Kate lying unconscious on the ground, the girl on the altar, all the innocent women who died there—

Tonight, I had more than enough reason to show absolutely no mercy.

Masked Red-Haired Man: Pfft, haha. This is all because she disrupted our ritual!

Masked Black-Haired Man: … H-Hey. Hold on… this man is…

Masked Black-Haired Man: Isn’t this Sir Victor?

Masked Man with Freckles: I-It really is! How could the Queen’s right hand man show up in such a place!?

I took a good look at all of them, and my gaze focused on one person.

Victor: Was it you who pushed that girl?

Masked Red-Haired Man: Y-Yes… it was me, Sir Victor.

Staring at the man who scrambled up to me, I commanded.

(... It's time for death to come to you.)

Victor: In the name of … I command you. — Now, succumb to my wickedness.

In a trance, the man stared into space.

Masked Red-Haired Man: Ahh… somehow… I feel so happy… I… I…

The man wrapped his hands around his neck, immediately taking his own life.

Masked Black-Haired Man: Is he… dead? Why did he kill himself…?

I turned my gaze towards the alarmed and bewildered men.

Victor: … From right to left, say your names.

Masked Black-Haired Man: Tommy Yeager. … Ugh, gguhh…

I gave another death order.

Masked Man with Freckles: Leah Rodríguez. I- I… ahh!

And another.

All that was left was dead silence.

As though they had a blissful dream, the men died with peaceful expressions on their faces.

William: Is it over? Looks like there’s no chance for me to step into the spotlight.

Victor: Oh, Will. This is where the “prize” was.

William: They died with such peaceful faces, it’s almost as if they were possessed by a god.

(A god, huh.)

It was like saying that “Her Majesty The Queen” was no god.

Victor: … Humans can never become god.

William: Based on what you said, that will surely be the case.

With a calm smile, William picked up the girl on the altar.

William: You can entrust this girl to me. I’ll leave you to look after Kate.

William: Because it seems to me that your rage is heavily correlated to her.

…

Roger examined Kate upon our return to the castle, and he said that she would regain consciousness very soon.

I gently laid the unconscious Kate on her bed.

(Kate. … I’m so glad you’re safe.)

Looking at her face, I was reminded of the night we first met.

When I suggested that she become our fairytale writer, it was partially because I came up with that on the spot.

The other reason being… I anticipated the change she would bring to Crown.

Despite their differences, every member of Crown was a person of strong character.

It was precisely because of that, I believed that “change brought upon by others” was crucial.

Humans could only grow stronger in the presence of others.

(This change will guide those guys towards a more beautiful evil.)

And I would watch her from a distance — that was the original plan, at least.

(Unknowingly, you brought upon a change in me too.)

As William said earlier on, it was clear that seeing her hurt made me fly into a rage.

I felt alive, that was… a “human” emotion.

(Your presence has turned me from a spectator to a player.)

(However—)

I gently placed the Cameo hair ornament back into Kate’s hair.

(Regardless of how lovely you are, I will always remain by your side as “Victor, Aide to The Queen”.)

(No more, no less.)

Or else, my darkness, and death — would swallow her whole.

I gave her hair a gentlemanly kiss.

Victor: Consider this a bad dream and forget everything. Be it nightmares or death, I will never let them reach you.

Victor: … Good night, Kate.

…

The next day, Kate regained her consciousness and came to me at the speed of light to apologise.

Kate: I’m truly sorry, Victor. I was to blame for rushing out without thinking it through…

(You’d still blame yourself even if I tell you I didn't mind, won't you?)

(Ah, that's right. In that case…)

Victor: Would you like to have lunch with me, Kate?

…

Victor: I was about to have a lonely lunchtime today, I’m so glad you’re here.

Kate: Can I make it up to you for last night with this?

Victor: Of course. I find joy in having a delicious meal with another person’s company.

Kate: Fufu, that’s good to hear.

(That captivating smile of yours is finally back.)

— Suddenly, it started drizzling.

Victor: It’s a passing shower. Come here, Kate. Let’s take shelter at the gazebo over there.

Kate: A-Alright…

…

(... That was surprising. The rainfall in London can be so unpredictable.)

Victor: Kate, are you alright—

Before I could ask, Kate wiped my cheeks with her hands.

Kate: I’m alright. You, on the other hand…

Victor: … (surprised)

Despite being drenched herself, she was still more concerned about me. The hands touching me felt so warm, almost like a gentle shower falling from the clear sky.

There it was “again” — the change in my heart.

Kate: Ah, I almost forgot. Liam told me that he has something for you.

Kate: I’m very curious about why he said in a frustrated tone that he was “supposed to give it to you yesterday”.

(Ahh…)

Victor: It was my birthday yesterday.

Kate: … Wait.

Kate: WHAT!?

That was likely the most shocked I had ever seen her from the day we met, I couldn't contain my laughter.

(I never intended to tell you myself, because I know you’ll get unnecessarily worked up over it.)

Kate: I-I’m so sorry I didn’t prepare a present for you, I didn’t know it was your birthday…

Victor: Haha, it’s okay. I already received one from you.

Kate: …?

Victor: You spent the whole day with me yesterday.

Victor: Although I genuinely only wanted to respect your freedom of choice, perhaps I also had the childish wish for you to stay by my side on my birthday.

Victor: … Thank you, Kate.

She looked up at the clear sky with a smile.

Kate: … Hey, Victor. I want to become stronger.

Victor: Why so?

Kate: I know that you’ll always protect me from harm, but… being the weakling I am…

She mumbled “I know there are many things in this world that are better off being left unbeknownst to me” under her breath.

Then, she continued, saying “but if it's things related to you, I want to know all about them”. And—

Kate: When you’re having a hard time, I don't want to just laugh it off and pretend I don’t know.

I was captivated by the way she said those words with a smile.

Not only did she change Crown and I, even she went through beautiful changes with every blink of an eye.

(... This girl is like a storm in springtime.)

Would I someday be caught up in that storm — and tell her the truth?

(But now is not the time.)

Victor: Don’t move too fast towards becoming stronger, I’ll feel lonely being left behind.

(Stay like this just for a little bit longer.)

[seramilla]

Another offering for the Homophobic Elders AU:

Carmilla is once again brought before the Council of Elders after being tortured for another couple of months? years? She's lost count. Despite this however, she still refuses to reveal her beloved's name, Sera. She swore during the first "session" that no matter what they do to her, she would protect her love, DAMN the consequences.

"Carmilla," an Elder spoke. Carmilla raises her head, her face bloody and bruised as she glared at the terribly, hidden, smug look in the Elder's eyes."You have been found guilty of blasphemy through your lustful actions with another woman" the Elder continues, "Because WE follow the Holy Father's teachings, we shall again show mercy and offer you leniency. If only you provide the name of your 'lover' " They spat the word as if it was poison. Carmilla remains silent, glaring at the Elders. Realizing she AGAIN won't speak they sneered down at this "angel".

"This shall be your final warning. If you continue to be stubborn we will have no choice but to banish you to Hell" They said as they opened a portal to Sama- Lucifer's domain directly behind her. She immediately tried to turn around when she felt Hell's flaming heat kiss her back and the Realm strongly pull her towards the portal. They wanted to scare her, Carmilla WOULD be, had this happened earlier in her torture but instead, now, all she felt was... acceptance. She wishes she could see Sera one last time. Hold her, kiss her, tell her how much she loves her. But to keep her beloved safe, Carmilla will do Whatever It Takes.

Knowing what awaits her, she felt herself slowly relax. Smirking, she looks back up at the Elders. The smug look on their faces slowly giving way to frustration as they realize she's not even remotely intimidated.

Carmilla starts to sing

"I don't want your prayers

No, my soul don't need no saving

I don't need no Pious Creed

When with her, I've found Heaven

In our bodies, in our blood

A more immaculate communion

Oh, she brings me to my knees

Genuflect like Mary Magdalene

You, you wanna burn me

Wanna crucify my name

If you, you call it sin

How come she loves me like a saint?

Crown me with thorns

For her, I'll gladly be a martyr

My dear if Hell's the price, I'll love and cherish you FOREVER"

She loudly proclaims her love for Sera one last time before she was finally pulled into the portal. Laughing with glee as she heard the Elders' shout profanities after her. Carmilla hopes Sera can forgive her, maybe in another life, they could be happy. Maybe in another life, Carmilla could be stronger.

(Lyrics from: Unholy - OC VersionSong by Justine's Mic and Kevin Liu)

No further comment, your honor. 😭😭😭

[fea-the-grinch]

This AU's been in my docs for at least a year, and I thought it might be funny to post the little headcanons and incorrect quotes I have for it ! It's really not a lot, but it makes me laugh every time (seeing Rosa and Gina bicker is very enjoyable, in my opinion). I'll probably never write a fanfiction about it, but I may come back to add or change little bits of this post over time.

Hope some of you will enjoy it (and see the vision) !

In a Dianetti childhood “enemies” to friends to lovers! AU where Rosa and Gina went to middle school together (with the rest of B99) and, at first, hated each other:

Headcanons

Gina never once called Rosa “ugly” or whatever word like that, because no matter how she was angry at Rosa, she always recognized that the girl was beautiful in every way. 

Young! Rosa says mean things as a defense mechanism when she feels like someone is coming too close to her.

When they were little, Gina and Rosa couldn’t stand to be together in the same room, though they had to. Yet, even when they didn’t have to be, they searched each other.

They practiced and became very good at comebacks after all the years spent throwing punchlines at each other.

Progressively, the animosity that existed between them disappeared, and after one random summer, they willingly spent time with each other, in and out of school. 

Gina fell first and realized first. However, she didn’t think her feelings were right, perhaps not because of what her peers would think, but because of self-rooted issues, so she stayed silent about them (or maybe her dad was a homophobic jerk who instilled in her that she would be judged negatively by others, and that they might choose not to be around her anymore because of that).

Rosa took her time, and even when she realized it, she didn’t want to believe it. She denied it.

“I feel like there is more to you than what you let anyone see. And I wanna stay close to see it, to see what happens when you finally accept that part of you.”

Incorrect quotes to show the vibes 

Rosa, walking into a room: Sorry I’m late... I was... doing things.

*Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder*

Gina, out of breath: SHE PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKIN’ STAIRS.

/

Gina: I’m quick at math. 

Rosa: Ok, what’s 38 times 76? 

Gina: 24. 

Rosa: That wasn’t even close. 

Gina : But it was quick.

/

Gina: I'm 10 times funnier and sexier than you.

Rosa: 10 times 0 is still 0 though.

Gina: Buzzzzz. Hum, the buzzer says you’re wrong.

/

Rosa: What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Gina: Wow, you could start with a 'good morning'.

Rosa: Good morning. What the fuck is wrong with you?!

/

Gina: Must be hard not being able to laugh.

Rosa: I do have a sense of humor you know.

Gina: I’ve never heard you laugh before.

Rosa: I’ve never heard you say anything funny.

/

Gina: Hey, are you okay? 

Rosa: Yeah. 

Gina: You don't look okay... 

Rosa: Then stop looking.

/

Gina: Rosa is playing hard to get. 

Gina: Little does she know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

/

Rosa: I have issues. 

Gina: Finally, you admit it! So, the first step to redemption is accept- 

Rosa: With you.

/

Rosa: This is getting embarrassing. 

Gina: Getting? We’re already there!

/

Gina: If we lose, you’re out of the will. 

Rosa: I was in the will? You have a will ? 

/

Raymond and Kevin, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here. 

Amy: Good afternoon! 

Jake: Hi. 

Rosa: Hello. 

Charles: Hey! 

Kevin: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only! 

Terry: Sorry, I tried to stop them.

Gina: Sorry not sorry, we were out of Doritos!

[paperdice]

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐤!

(heavily updated cuz other post is a bit older and new askers might not know of it)

✍= currently working on

🙏= worked on and or halfway thru but still on hold

🧠= brainstorming for proper accuracy

⏳= on hold

✍- pt2 izukus twin x platonic hcs with aizawa, katsuki + 2 others of my choosing 🙏- mordecai heller x asexual reader hcs and oneshot ⏳+🧠- twisted alice x male reader that was her past lover oneshot ⏳- rocky rickaby x reserved polite reader romantic hcs ✍(due to a misunderstanding in request, thanks for letting me know anon!)- ticklish reader x butter roll cookie and affogato cookie hcs 🙏+🧠- 2BDammed x reader x Hank NSFW fic ✍- dark cacao cookie, burnt cheese cookie and stardust cookie x goddess reader hcs ✍- avocado cookie x cuddly fem reader hcs 🙏+🧠- Kevin x male reader oneshot ✍- auditor x human reader oneshot and hcs ✍+🧠- beast cookies x chosen undead reader hcs (I'm also doing extra research on the beast cookies bc I'm not too confident in myself so I'm double checking) ✍ - Match up 1. lackadaisy and tf2 ✍+ 🧠- Viktor, mordecai, wick and rocky x dom reader nsfw all seperate mini hcs and oneshots ✍- Match up 2. creepypasta, sally face and black butler ✍- wind archer cookie x villain reader hcs and maybe oneshot ✍- scott pilgrim x shy!fem!reader hcs ✍-scott pilgrim x shy!fem!reader that accidentally confesses fic ✍- all might x male!reader smut

I swear in my past life I was a tortoise, but now that I have this up I hope this can help anons understand why I've been slow.

As I said in my last 'Requests Accepted' post, im a crazy picky writer,, I double-check for accuracy and is constantly thinking whether or not the character would even do what im saying they would.

A regrettable choice of writing I picked for myself, BUT I MUST SERVE JUSTICE FOR THOSE WHO ARE TIRED OF FALSELY WRITTEN FICS!!

Till then, thank you anons all for your immense patience! Major props to you all!

[deathbxnny]

Hi can I request x male reader, but before the details can I request multiple character from different games and do you know about nijisanji it's a vtuber agency, so the reader is like ice queen freya from the huntsman winter war

Freya, also known as the Ice Queen, was the secondary antagonist and anti-hero of The Huntsman: Winter's War.

A powerful sorceress with the ability to manipulate ice and snow, Freya was the second-born daughter of an unnamed sorceress, the younger sister of Queen Ravenna and the older sister of Finn, the secret lover of the late Duke of Blackwood, and the mother of her late infant daughter and Sara's adoptive mother.

Although she seemed to be as cold, ruthless, and manipulative as her sister, Freya was also as much a victim of tragic circumstances I as Ravenna had been, and showed in numerous instances that she still had retained some semblances of decency and compassion. Ultimately, she proved to be a sympathetic character, especially given how she helped Eric to destroy her evil sister once and for all. Though this act of redemption cost Freya her very life, her open rejoicing at seeing Eric and Sara reunited in love before she died was a testament of sorts to her never being truly evil, and that she had finally found peace in seeing the power of love conquer all

And the character is gepard ( hsr ) kevin kaslana ( hi3rd ) , Vlad ( ikemen vampire) , vox akuma ( nijisanji)

-----♡

A/N: So, I wasn't exactly sure what you wanted me to write about necessarily, so I pieced something together for you. Also, I do not know who Vlad or Fox Akuma are, so I only limited this to Gepard and Kevin. Thank you for the request!<33

Content: Established relationship, some angst, fluff, mentions of self sacrifice, hurt/comfort(kinda), post eruption Kevin, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns, but is asked to be male!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Gepard Landau

He noticed quickly, that you aren't as cold and heartless as most described you as. He was able to easily get through the ice walls you built around your heart and make you finally feels some love and care.

He knows you've had a troubled past and therefore does his best to replace the sad memories with good one's. He swears on his life as a Captain, that he won't ever let you slip into that dark place you were once in ever again.

With that said, he understands your need to end your evil sister and is more than willing to help you out with all the resources he has at hand. What he however won't accept, is you sacrificing yourself. He'll find a difficult solution to this and would be even willing to find his own end, if it meant for you to stay alive and live on with a better life.

-----♡

》Kevin Kaslana

Kevin was a cold and cynical person himself, even if he found some compassion through meeting and falling in love with you. He quickly noticed how your own cold and heartless demeanor was just a facade, something that changed him in many ways. You showed him how to live a better life, despite the darkness in his heart.

Which is why he shows his gratitude for you by directly confronting you and telling you to be yourself. Sure, his approach may be harsh as most things are with him, but he doesn't want his love to be hurt any longer. Despite how he was, he was still able to mend your broken heart, something he denied being a big deal out of stubbornness.

With that said, however, he is too selfish to let you just sacrifice yourself to end your evil sister. He doesn't see him losing you as worth it and therefore take it into his own hands. You're the only thing keeping him sane in his miserable world and he'd be damned, if he lost you over something like this.

-----♡

A/N: I hope this was okay and am sorry, if it wasn't really good... I thank you again for the request however!<33

[sleepy-achilles]

Here's a prompt for you from Instagram:

I wanna run away with you, where there is only you and me.

Can't lie just spent 30 minutes searching my whole house for my phone only to find out my dog knocked it off my bed and under the dogs bed that's under my gaming chair. I have no clue what my idea was now. But imma give it a shot. Hope you wanted hbtaker

Hbtaker- You and I

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

Shawn couldn't smile. Even if he had a reason he couldn't. He never felt so alone and yet he was surrounded by friends.

He rests his chin on his knees as he watches Paul bark orders at taker. His heart aches for the man. He wishes he could take him away from it all.

"Michaels" a voice calls. Shawn glances to see the harts. He sighs and lets his shoulders deflate. "What bret?" Shawn whispers. "Aw what's wrong? Vinnie not treating you like royalty?" Bret smirks pushing Shawn lightly. Shawn let's his feet hit the floor and he glares at bret. "Not in the mood" he mutters. "Jesus michaels we can see that" davey huffs. "Its because he's gotta lose to me tonight" bret chuckles. Shawn stands. "Gotta put the small talent over now don't we?" Shawn asks. And it's the wrong thing to say as he's suddenly slammed against the locker.

And well, Shawn feels nothing, even as he stares into brets cold eyes. They used to be warm towards him..now? Now they are just cold and angry. "Gonna hit me?" Shawn asks quietly as his hands go limp at his side and brets grip tightens on his collar. Bret just examines his face before shoving him against the locker and stepping back. "Not without a camera" bret mutters before nodding at the others. Shawn watches as they walk off.

He turns his gaze to see taker watching him. They don't need words, just eye contact.

Talk?

Normal spot

"You good Shawn?" Kevin asks. "Goldust just tol-shawn?" Kevin watches as the blonde walks out. He then watches as Taker brushes off Paul and leaves. "Right." Kevin huffs before moving towards his bag.

-

Shawn hugs his arms as he sways. "You alright?" Taker asks walking into the run down lockeroom. Vince has been on about for months how they'll fix it up. They haven't. It became Taker and shawns meeting spot.

"How can you be happy with him?" Shawn asks looking at him. "Im not." Taker shrugs. Shawn frowns and looks down. "I wanna run away with you." Shawn whispers. Taker looks st him shocked. "Where there is only you and me" shawns voice cracks. Taker pulls him into a hug. "One day darlin. One day" Taker promises.

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

-A FEW YEARS LATER-

Shawn frowns at his feet. He hasn't felt like this in a few years. He smiles this time though, especially as boots appear in his view. He looks up to see his lover. "I keep my promises darling" Taker whispers holding out a envelope. Shawn raises an eyebrow as he accepts it. He opens it and pulls out two plane tickets. "Holy shit, to Paris?" Shawn asks standing up. "Shh.." Taker shushes as a group of stars walk past them. Shawns eyes widen. "You haven't cleared it with vince?" Shawn asks quietly. "You said you wanted to run away. I can't take his shit at the moment Shawn and I know you can't. So let's go" Taker answers.

Shawn looks down at the tickets. "How much trouble will we get into?" Shawn asks quietly. "Trust me. A fine at best. He's got neither of in any big storyline. You haven't been on TV in weeks, neither have I. It'll be fine. Now cmon" Taker tells him. Shawns smile widens. "Yeah, let's go" Shawn nods grabbing his bag. "Glad you agree" Taker chuckles grabbing shawns hand and pulling him out.

----------

"Wheres Shawn and Undertaker!" Vince barks as he walks into the lockeroom. "They haven't showed up? They were here yesterday" Goldust asks shocked. Hunter stands up and looks at Kevin. "They haven't phoned?" Kevin asks. "No and from your reaction, why would they be together?" Vince asks. Everyone looks at kevin. "I..I didn't mean they were I just meant neither of them have phoned?" Kevin tries. "What has your rat done with my boy!" Paul yells. "Oi! Any more of that and I'll put you in the ground" Kevin growls jerking forward, Scott holds him back. "I see the way they look at each other! He's corrupted my boy!" Paul yells. "If anyone's corrupted anyone it's taker!" Hunter barks. "Enough! We have two missing stars. Two missing famous people! Anything could have happened to them!" Vince yells.

They all fall silent as it hits them.

"Ill call Shawn." Kevin mutters walking off.

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

Taker smiles from the balcony, enjoying the way Shawn rolls onto his stomach, the way the thin sheets shift down his tan back to rest on his lower back. His phone buzzing against the bedside table. "This was a beautiful idea" Shawn yawns. "It sure was" Taker mutters walking towards the bed. "Only you and i" Taker whispers sitting on the edge of the bed. Shawn looks at him and smiles. "You and I" Shawn nods leaning up. Taker cups his face. "Its nice to see you happy again." Taker mutters before kissing him. Shawn chuckles against takers lips. "You make me happy." Shawn states laying back down.

Taker chuckles as shawns stomach growls. "Food also makes you happy. I'll order, you should answer that" Taker tells him as the phone buzzes. "Its either vinnie so he can yell at me or kev so he can yell at me that vince yelled at him and go all momma bear on me." Shawn stretches. "He worries. Answer it or no crossiants" Taker warns moving to the room service phone. Shawn rolls his eyes as he grabs his phone, rolling onto his back. A quick text will do.

'I'm okay big guy. Me and taker decided to run away, tell vinnie we will be back in time for him to finally give us a storyline. Lots of love S'

He throws his phone onto the ground.

"Didnt sound like a call" Taker teases. "A text. I'll send him a postcard to back it" Shawn smirks as his lover walks over. "Reckon we'll still have a job?" Shawn asks as he pulls taker onto the bed. "Who cares? I can take care of us" Taker mutters before kissing shawns neck. Shawn giggles and runs his fingers through takers hair. "I know you can. I know you will." Shawn whispers cupping takers face and making him look at him. Taker smiles at him. "I love you shawn" he whispers. "I love too" Shawn smiles.

"You and I forever" Shawn whispers.

"Forever"

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

NOTES

I'm sorry its 1:40am and I'm in the process of rewatching ncis and well I've just got past swakt and onto the season 3.

I'm a wreck to be said.

The fact they had Tony in life or death danger and the cait...my top two..I cannot

Anyways.

I hope this is what you wanted.

Feel free to..idk I'm tired. If its not I can rewrite it, yk the drill, I hate my writing because I think it's bad and everyone loves it lol.

[imabillyami]

The thing that sucks is that the Sami/Jey story feels very unfinished. Like we were at the climax, and the story just ended. Not even in a fun way but just natural storytelling. I would argue that Roman/Sami at NOC was unfinished because they were just side characters in that match. That was all about the bloodline. It's not even us delulu shippers. Legit fans want to see this. Not just because Sami/Jey had a fantastic and emotional build but look what they have done to our boy on Raw.

Oh anon, I totally agree with you on all of that!

Sami kept going on and on and on about destroying The Bloodline and taking down The Tribal Chief and basically dedicated his life to that cause for months and months and then suddenly he completely stops with zero thoughts given after a TAG MATCH where he pinned Solo? It doesn't make sense.

And yeah the thing he wanted to happen (which was The Usos turning on Roman) happened, but wouldn't it make more sense for him and Kevin to join forces with them to take Roman down for good? Or to check up on Jey (and even Jimmy) and reassure them that he's in their corner after? (We know it would. But it's WWE and all the characters suddenly have amnesia once a storyline abruptly finds its end.)

And yeah, don't even get me started on the Sami/Jey stuff. They built up this deep connection between them (brothers/family/lovers whatever you see/wanna call it) and then they ripped it away and pretended like it never happened. No mention of Jey from Sami, no mention of Sami from Jey, even in moments where a mention would have been the most logical/simple thing and make the whole thing make sense. Like... why won't you acknowledge Jey's role in Sami's life and Sami's role in Jey's life (and the rest of the Bloodline for that matter) at all? It's a shit pattern with WWE that occurs so often, but in this case it's even more infuriating, cause usually they don't spend building relationships between characters/ character arcs this long. But they've been building it for a YEAR instead of just a couple of weeks, so it cut even deeper than it usually does when they went all like "well, it didn't happen. Sami? Jey? Bloodline? Connection? Never heard of it".

They are doing Sami so dirty with this and with his booking over on Raw, honestly. I need him back in the fold with Jey. I don't even need him to help Jey fight Jimmy or the rest of his family or whatever. At this point I've accepted that it'll probably never happen. I just need an acknowledgement of their bond and that they're still there for each other should one of them ever need it. And I need at least a little hope that we'll get a real and proper finish to Jey/Sami, even if we never get one for Roman/Sami and Jimmy/Sami and Solo/Sami. Cause you're right, anon. None of it feels finished even though WWE wants us to believe it is. The frustration is real.

[mae-gi-writes]

If You’ll Have Me . Kevin Moon (Part 1)

You’re Kevin’s mate. But you also happen to be his best friend. 

Genre: werewolf au! friends to lovers! au, fluff

word count: it’s LONG. Buckle up BUTTERCUPs heheh ~

----- PART ONE ----- 

You're everything he's ever wanted.

Everything and more.

Kevin has never fallen in love.

Well, he's had a few crushes here and there. But they don't count. They'd been superficial and Kevin had been nothing but a child then. And when he finally got introduced to the wolf pack and realized he had canine blood running through his veins, his interest had faded with time. He doesn't even remember what his last date had looked like, only recalls smelling the grease of fries off her fingers long after they'd left the burger joint.

And it's just so...weird. because Kevin knows you. He knows you because you spend practically all day together; same courses, same classes... if you were his mate, he should've known from the moment he laid his eyes on you, from the moment he smelled you.

The realization hits him right smack in the middle of your Marketing presentation.

"That's so unusual," one of his pack mates and best friend, Jacob Bae, says upon hearing him recount the story, "it's usually marked upon first sight."

Kevin strings his hands through his brown locks in an attempt to halt himself from ripping it all off, "this wasn't...supposed to happen. It can't. I know her. That changes everything."

"It doesn't have to."

Kevin turns to see his alpha standing by the door. While Sangyeon has never been the tallest, his presence exudes of power alone and for that they all have his respect, "she's the one your wolf chose. And that's easier because you're friends. She trusts you already."

"Easier said than done," Kevin mutters, burying his head into the crook of his arms to hide the rising tide of emotions, "you're not the one who has to break it her."

"She cares about you too, you know.” 

A sob dies halfway through Kevin’s throat. He looks away and when he speaks, he can’t stop the break in his voice,  “I don’t want to hurt her.” 

“Listen,” Sangyeon crouches down next to his form as he lands a hand onto his shoulder, brown eyes understanding and swimming with sympathy, “it’s never easy. I know, I’ve been there. But--you also know her, that already gives you an advantage that none of us ever had.” 

Kevin thinks that his alpha is mad. Out of his mind for thinking that you’d be so willing to accept the fact that you’re going to be bound to him for the rest of your life because some shitty Moon Goddess had decided it to be so. And Kevin is mad, at himself, for going along with his alpha’s plan even though he doesn’t completely believe in not giving you a choice.

But you have a choice. And he makes sure to voice that out once his secret his out in the open. 

Of course, he is met by more than just surprise.

You’re shocked, practically falling onto your butt and scrambling back against your room door. The look on your face tells Kevin that he shouldn’t push it, that this was a huge mistake, but still, he crouches down so that he’s face to face with you and looks at you with pleading eyes. 

“I’m...I--I don’t know what to say,” you try to un-jumble the words coming out of your mouth, “I--you--a wolf? I mean--you’re--” 

“Y/N,” he searches your eyes in hopes that you don’t faint, “it’s okay--just...don’t panic.” 

“Don’t panic?” You laugh, though he can smell the fear rolling off you in waves, “how the fuck do I do that? My best friend just told me that he’s a huge dog and I’m....I”m...” 

Your lips struggle to pronounce the words and though he shouldn’t let that deter him, it still stings. Kevin lets out a soft sigh, trying not to sniff the air for another whiff of your scent.

(god, you smell like his favourite type of flower and he doesn’t even have one). 

Shifting a little closer to you, he continues in a soft voice, “I don’t expect you to understand, or to accept me. I--” he takes a slow breath before exhaling, teeth coming down to wedge onto his bottom lip in the process, “I just want you to know. If --If you reject me --and it’s fine if you do,” he adds hurriedly as shock fills your features, “then I don’t think...I don’t think I can see you. Anymore.” 

“W--Why not?” 

Kevin doesn’t say anything for a minute and you keep staring at him, trying to figure out the cogs working in his brain. 

When he speaks again, his voice is strained with effort, practically choking on a sob as he looks away, “I don’t think I can stand being close to you, it will...it will hurt too much, Y/N.”

His heart fills with sadness, squeezes in pain at the hurt that slaps you in the face and you can’t help but whimper. 

That’s enough for Kevin. He moves before he knows it, so quickly and barely making a sound that you don’t even have time to blink before you’re wrapped up in his arms and burrowed in his chest, smelling the scent of his laundry detergent mixed in with his natural odour that had always comforted you in so many ways over the past years.

Your arms snake around his middle to hug him close and he tightens his grip in return, a sign that he understands your turmoil, that it’s okay with him, whatever you choose.

“Hey,” he murmurs into your hair, already drunk on the thought of having you-- your warmth, your body, your heat -- so close to him. Sangyeon would’ve killed him for his imprudence, but Kevin doesn’t care. Not when you’re hurting. Not when you need him.

“I don’t--” you let out a sob as your hands claw at his t-shirt, “I don’t want you to go away.” 

“I won’t, I won’t,” he’s quick to reassure you.

“But you said--”

“I’ll always watch over you from afar, Y/N,” leaning back and cupping your face, Kevin ignores the sizzle of warmth that traces along his fingers and up his arm. You’re beautiful, how had he never seen it before? “even if you don’t see me--”

“But that’s not the same thing!” 

“I know,” one of his hands smoothes over the back of your head, “I know. I’m sorry. For everything,” the last part he mumbles into your hair when he hugs you once more, eyes closing while he relishes in what might be his last moments with you.

For you, he’d do everything. Anything.

-----

You seek him out a few weeks later.

Weeks. Weeks had gone by after that one afternoon where you’d lost control and started pummelling Kevin with insults. After that, he’d promised not to drop by until you were ready to talk it over, and from the dazed look you’d given him, Kevin had returned home with a heavy heart and a heavier step in his wake.

It had been torture, waiting and waiting and waiting for you to come by. All his days felt meaningless, his mate senses hurting because of the lack of intimacy with its significant other, his wolf even more restless at the thought of spending time apart -- wasting time apart -- from his mate. So much so that Kevin had to take it out on small breaks and even volunteered to take on more patrol shifts just to tire his wolf out.

“You should eat,” Sangyeon’s mate, Marea, murmured while placing another spoonful of rice on his plate. She’d been with the pack for ages now and all the boys treated her like a mother despite the fact that she’s a couple of years younger. Looked it too, with her short curly ginger hair and a small child’s face and barely above five feet. 

“Thanks,” Kevin muttered back absentmindedly. 

From across the table, Soa -- Jacob’s mate and also a good friend of his -- whistles to get his attention before speaking, “oh stop moping Kev. The girl needs time to think. You just told her you could transform into a man-eating wolf. Of course she’ll be a bit traumatized.” 

Kevin scowled at her and Jacob growled, causing him to shift his scowl to his best friend, “Chill out. I didn’t do anything.” 

“Don’t throw her that look. She’s trying to help,” Jacob answered snarkily. 

“It’s fine Jake,” Soa -- bless her soul -- pulled her mate back with a hand on his shoulder, “relax. It’s alright.” 

Understandable, considering that they’ve barely been mated. Younger mates wolves tended to be more possessive and aggressive towards potential threats and Kevin was no exception. 

Kevin wonders if this is the karma that they always talk about. After all, it's not like he's an angel. Far from it. Done pretty questionable things in his youth. But does that justify the constant ache in the middle of his chest where his heart should be?

It hurts.

It hurts so much that he spends night after night whimpering himself to sleep.

So when he finally comes face to face with you one sunny afternoon -- after absolutely no contact-- it's like ice cold water thrown in his face. 

Emotion rushes through his limbs, travels up his chest and all air in his lungs stick inside the back of his throat as he forces his legs not to give out underneath him. He leans against the hallway, breathless, forcing his eyes to the carpet lest he gets heartbroken by the look on your face.

"Hey," the sound of your voice makes Kevin want to purr. It's beautiful, a melody that causes shivers to rack up and down his spine.

He swallows. Hard. Then greets you back softly.

You smell fucking amazing. And it's taking everything in his power not to pounce and mark your scent with his own.

In his peripheral, Kevin takes note of Sangyeon's figure and he's glad that his alpha is looking after him. God knows what he can do in that delirious state.

He manages to get the slightest hold onto his sanity, Kevin manages to grovel out, "what are you doing here?"

You hesitate, bristling. 

"I wanted to know how you were doing."

" 'm fine."

"I brought you your favourite," that's when he takes note of the packet in your hands. Caramel-flavored chips. His favourite indeed.

Or had been. Until you.

"Can I..." his orbs slowly lift, heart pounding at the sight of your face. Those eyes, those lips... his fist curls into a ball, pressing against the wall, "can I come in?"

"I don't...I don’t think that's a good idea."

"W-Why not?"

Because I might do something unspeakable if you step through that door.

"Because I... because I can't--" Kevin shakes his head, the words knotting up inside his throat before his teeth finds purchase onto his lower lip. Turning his face away as if that will make things easier, he chokes out, "I can't be close to you."

And then he waits.

He waits for you to turn around, walk away.

Because that's what he would want. That is what you would want, at the end of the day.

He's a monster. And you, you need to live--

"I accept it."

Kevin freezes in mid-thought. What?

You must have made a mistake. 

A big, terrible mistake. 

Surely you haven't thought this over as you should. Do you realize the amount of setbacks that you'll have just because of him?

He smells you, feels you, before he feels your soft hands touch his arm. Kevin turns as if on autopilot, and with a shaky exhale, focuses his red-rimmed eyes on your brown ones simmering with a warmth that makes his heart melt and knocks the air out of his chest at the same time.

"I want to be with you, I--" your lip can't help but tremble and he reaches out, thumb stopping the action absentmindedly and trying to ignore the sparks shooting through him, "I want you, whatever way you'll have me so just-- please don't push me away, please--"

Kevin's arms shoot out to crush you to his chest, halting the rest of your sentence as he hugs you close and holy shit, it's better than he's ever imagined it. His body practically burns, overwhelmed by the memories of you two flashing through his mind like a movie on replay.

He's so grateful. So fucking grateful that he'll have you, and that you'll accept him.

However you want him. He'll be yours.

-----

"How does it feel?"

After you and Kevin had decided to try this whole mate thing out -- not before he practically begged you to just act like you would normally because he doesn't want you to force yourself in any way -- it had taken some time for you to get back to how things were before. You learnt that the rest of the boys were just as wolf-y as Kevin was and that the girls were chosen mates, just like you.

And it's overwhelming. You're drowning in complete confusion about the world that had just opened before your eyes.

Maera and Soa reassure you that it is always the case.

"Well it was a little different for me," Maera admits with a small blush as she busies herself with packing the utensils away in the kitchen cupboard, "I liked Sangyeon before he got marked with me."

"Did that influence his marking?" You ask.

"Not necessarily. The marking is weird. You never know who you'll fall head over heels for," Soa's nose wrinkles, "Jacob didn't even know me, nor did I. We just happened to click at a party and he invited me out on a date. It was after we started going out that he told me he was a wolf. And that he chose me as his mate."

"Didn't that upset you?"

"Hm, yes. A little. It stung, knowing that he didn't choose me because he genuinely liked me," Soa shrugs, "but it's not like I can control it. If you like that person, then the marking will definitely work well."

"And if you don't?"

You don't miss the way the two girls exchange glances.

"That doesn't normally happen," Marea says finally, adding a little laugh as though that will help.

But it doesn't. It only adds to your growing confusion.

So you decide to take the matter into your own hands and proceed to corner the said wolf in question one quiet evening when everyone else has retreated to their rooms. Lights have gone out, with only the kitchen light flickering over the room as you help Kevin wash up and put all the clean dishes away. 

“Can I ask you something?” you finally ask without looking at him. 

“Sure,” he laughs a little as he grabs one plate from you and tucks it on the shelf. 

“Do all mates fall in love with each other?” 

The question feels like a slap in the face.

He freezes up, muscles tensing and jaw clenching. Your brain backpedals fast -- had you said something you shouldn't?

And then, Kevin lets out a deep sigh and it feels like all the fight suddenly seeps out of him, "I don't know."

You wait patiently, not realizing that your hands are clenching around one of the plates. Turning to set it down onto the pile of others, you wait patiently for him to continue.

"The Moon Goddess doesn't usually make mistakes. Even if you don't start out to initially like the person like that, you do eventually."

Kevin's voice is a soft murmur washing through you, but you'd be lying to say you can't hear the pain laced in his undertone and that makes your heart squeeze in your chest.

"Why'd you ask?"

"Just curious I guess."

He of all people will be able to detect that it's not just curiosity you have, but apprehension and fear, though he decides to opt for silence as you wrap up the rest of the mess and head to his room.

You've grown up with Kevin at your side, so it shouldn't be a problem to be sharing a sleeping space. However, being the gentleman that he is, Kevin has opted to sleep on the floor despite your onslaught of protests calling him out to be 'stupid' and 'it's not like we never slept in the same bed before.'

"It's not the same anymore," Kevin replies curtly before turning away from you, "not for me."

That night, you don't get a wink of sleep.

You're not going to lie and say that there is nothing when there is something. For you, at least. And definitely for your mate. 

It's new, and weird, and enthralling at the same time.

Like when you're within physical distance of each other, there's a strong heat connecting your bodies that sparks through your limbs every time that you cannot explain. It's this constant urge to be next to Kevin, when you're cooking dinner, when you're taking a walk through the park near your house, when you're not doing anything special in particular.

It's like your own skin is tingling, itching for him to be near and not satisfied until you finally are.

The boys decide on having a movie night a few days after your discussion, where everything is still awkward and you’re bustling around each other like a pair of parallel lines. At this time of the evening, you’re usually already cooped up in bed, still trying to digest all the information that had been thrown in your face a few weeks ago, when the girls decide to drag you into their mess, insisting that it’ll be fun to spend some quality time with the family. 

"Come on, don’t be such a party pooper!" Soa tugs at your arm like an insistent puppy while dragging you down the basement stairs. 

"But why twilight?" You hear Sunwoo grumble from behind you.

"I know, couldn’t it have been anything BUT twilight?" You add, shooting a glare in Soa's direction, who giggles in response, "twilight is romantic okay?! And we said no judging!"

"It’s not judging, that’s fact," Chanhee quips as they reach the basement. The rest of the wolves had already set up the huge tv screen -- courtesy of Sangyeon's parents as a parting gift -- and an array of pillows litter the ground, ready to be occupied and pounced on. Juyeon, one of the older boys and whom you’re well acquainted with -- the two of you grew up in the same neighbourhood -- brightens at the sight of the popcorn in your hands. 

"Finally, we've been waiting for hours," He reaches over to snatch the bag of popcorn from your hand but you quickly retract, "nu-uh. You didn't even bother helping."

"Cute. But you don’t stand a chance," he grins cheekily and before you know it, has snatched the bag out of your hands.

"Hey-- that is not fair!" You follow him to where he has plopped down on the other side of the room, only to be stopped upon noticing Kevin's eyes. They are filled with something unexplainable, something warm and you can't help but gaze back to notice how pretty he is.

"Can we just get on with it?” Hyunjae groans, burying his face into his oversized pillow. 

"Yeah, whoever chose this movie really wants them murdered or something," Sunwoo adds snarkily, smoothly dodging out of Chanhee's slap, "last I heard, Twilight is just a way of making us feel bad about ourselves. We don't even act like that half the time."

"You mean we don’t?” Hyunjae snickers, “because you definitely do--” 

His words stop in mid-yelp as Sunwoo when the latter’s pillow slams right into his face, "ow-- the fuck, man?!"

"No swearing in this house," Sangyeon calls while settling himself next to Marea, “let’s keep it pg-15 please.” 

"Ha, says the one who gets it every night," Eric's mumble is loud enough for the boys to cackle. Sangyeon, on the other hand, doesn't hesitate to kick him off his pillow, "just because you don't get any doesn't mean you have to be salty."

You giggle,  meeting Marea’s eyes across the room. She rolls hers as if to say, bunch of losers. 

But it’s only when the room goes quiet and the movie starts rolling that you feel the same familiar heat engulf your fingertips, travel up your hand to cover your entire limb. You don’t have to glance to your side to figure out the source of conflict. Without a doubt, it’s the dark-haired wolf that you’ve been trying to avoid these past few days and, biting your lip out of nervousness, you quickly spare him a glance. 

Only to see that he’s been gazing at you all along. Your eyes flit away, heat exploding through the back of your neck. 

Damnit.

Why is he looking at you like that? And why does it feel so...so right? So caught up in your triad of thoughts, you jump in surprise when the softest fingers brush over yours. 

Beside you, Kevin chuckles. It’s a warm laugh, one that sends delicious heat through your cheeks as you keep your gaze on the tv screen before you. 

Your fingers are tingling where he’s touched them, but you don’t pull away. Instead allowing yourself to bask in the sensation of having Kevin’s touch on your naked skin as his fingers tentatively twine through yours. 

It's just a hand to hand contact and yet, it makes your heart squeeze, knocks the breath out of you. You try not to gasp aloud, eyes glazed and unfocused on the tv screen.

Still, you stay. Even when his hand engulfs yours completely. Even when electricity sizzles up your spine and makes your head spin.

Even when his thumb starts caressing your outer knuckles.

You're not quite sure what's going on. Whether this is just a figment of the bond or just your feelings towards the said wolf. But what you do know is that there’s definitely some kind of attraction between you and you’d be a fool to deny yourself of that fact.

Great. What happened to your plan of not letting yourself be dictated by the bond? 

-----

Funnily enough, holding hands becomes more and more natural as the weeks proceed and you find yourself getting more comfortable hanging out at the boys’ house since Christmas Break is drawing near. Kevin, on the other hand. is fluttering with butterflies at the progressed interaction. He feels as though he’s permanently floating on cloud nine and it’s safe to say that the wolf has fallen deeply and utterly in love with every single piece of you, despite his constant rebuttals that ‘you were just close friends’ and ‘he’s very comfortable with you’. 

"Says the one who holds hands like 24/7 now,” Jacob teases at the breakfast table one morning, causing both Hyunjae and Eric to snort into their coffee.

"Friends do hold hands,” Kevin answers with a scowl in hopes that he doesn’t sound too defensive, but Hyunjae’s loud laughter proves otherwise, “oh Kevin, look at you, trying to justify your actions. It’s so cute.” 

“I’m not-- ugh, it’s a fact!” 

“Hyung, anyone can see that you’re into her,” Eric chips in with a playful smirk, “why are you denying it to yourself?”

“Exactly,” Jacob adds, “it’s normal for mates to fall in love. Look at me and Sangyeon.” 

“Yeah but Y/N is different. I don’t think we can venture up that path,” Kevin mutters into his bowl of cereal, missing the pointed looks exchanged by his pack mates, “and I’m okay with that. As long as Y/N is happy.” 

“No, nu-uh, don’t friend-zone yourself before you even get started!” Hyunjae grabs onto Kevin’s shoulders to give him a little shake, “that’s not how it works man! If you want more, you gotta work for it.”

“But I’m fine with how things are now.” 

"Oh stop lying to yourself hyung. Anyone with eyes can see that you and Y/N have something,” Eric rolls his eyes for good measure.

‘Something’ is the right word, when Kevin can’t define it by any other term.

And it doesn’t seem like you mind so much either. Subtle finger caresses turn into full firm hand holding, which slowly ebbs into casual shoulder brushes until Kevin gains the courage to wrap his entire arm around you that one night he was showing you how to play a video game. 

Oh, that had proven a challenge for him all right. You smell amazing (as always) and it had taken every single ounce of his self-restraint to stop himself sniffing your neck out like a lovesick puppy.

He’s all too engrossed trying to hold onto his sanity to realize your heart is fluttering, skipping beats even. 

“Then you press down onto the x button,” Kevin continues as if he’s not imagining himself cuddling into the crook of your neck and nuzzling your collarbone. 

Meanwhile, you are also trying to solve your own dilemma. Because it is safe to say that though you try your best to stay focused on the task at hand, your gaze seems completely and utterly focused on the way Kevin’s hair seems to fall into his face, lips forming words you can’t quite grasp. 

You want to touch him. Reach out and press your finger onto the tiny mole right along his jawline. 

“--Y/N?” 

“H-Huh?” you snap back to attention, flushing with heat at the close proximity of his face, “Oh s-sorry I didn’t quite catch what you were saying.” 

Amusement dances across his eyes, “I was asking you whether you were hungry.” 

“Hungry?” Your eyes flit to the clock on his nightstand. It’s past eleven, “uhm, I could eat something I guess.” 

“Great,” and he’s springing away from you as if being that close is like nothing at all and you feel like kicking yourself for reacting like a child, “I’m craving for some asian pastries.” 

"My dear Kevin, I am always down for asian pastries.” 

Half an hour later finds the pair of you striding along the Han River, the horizon glimmering with Seoul’s city lights like a ring of stars blending into the night sky. You sigh, loving the sensation of the chilly wind blowing across your face. It’s cold, but it’s a refreshing sensation, enough to cool off the heat that had accumulated in your cheeks, the back of your neck.

You’re busy chatting about the latest idol groups that popped up for their debut, leading into a discussion on the various controversies surrounding the entertainment world when Kevin’s hand weaves through yours comfortably, squeezing and brushing his thumb along the outside of your knuckles.

You squeeze back, trying not to distract yourself from admiring how attractive his hand is in yours -- what the hell, Y/N?! What’s wrong with you? 

“You’d think that they would give up,” Kevin continues on. He clearly hasn’t noticed your odd glances, “considering how much torture and pain they go through just to stand on that stage.” 

“it’s quite sad now, especially since it’s a booming industry. People are bound to be exploited,” you look forward as you speak, eyes on the buildings, on the bridge, anything to get your thoughts away from-- "You’re cold.” 

Too late. Kevin is already cupping both your hands in his and lifts them up to his face. He blows warm air, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and just the sight has your heart squeezing, melting like butter straight into Kevin’s arms. 

“Jesus Y/N. You’re freezing,” he looks up at you with a scowl, “why didn’t you tell me--” 

Hands grab onto his jacket, pulling him down to meet his lips halfway.

You kiss him and Kevin freezes up in response. 

Your mouth is cold. Colder than his. But warm. Warm with feelings. 

It ends all too soon. Before he can even register that it’s ended, until you gape at him in horror and stumble back as panic takes over. 

“Oh,” your hands go up to cup over your mouth, “no.” 

Kevin knows. He reads your face before you do it, “Y/N, wait--”

But you’re already turning around and running away from him, from what could have happened between you two that night.

-- 

Part 2 up soon! ~ 

[davidpastrsnack]

it’s crazy what you’ll do for a friend - nolan patrick

a/n: here’s a friends to lovers 4+1 with our fav boy loosely inspired by daddy issues by the neighbourhood. but there’s still a splash of smut because you know me lol. hope you enjoy :)

word count: 10.5k

The first time you met Nolan you didn’t know what to think. He was polite, giving you a gentle smile and reaching out to shake your hand, but you couldn’t help but fixate on how quiet he was and his seeming lack of emotion.

Regardless of your hesitation, that was the first time of many that Nolan took care of you. 

You were new to Philadelphia, moving to continue your education and expand your horizons. You had always been one to play it safe, to stay in your comfort zone, but after having your heart broken and being unexpectedly accepted to one of the top graduate programs in your field you knew it was time to challenge yourself and leave behind everything you had ever known.

Well, almost everything, aside from Aubrey, one of your best friends since that first day of kindergarten so long ago. She worked in the city, practically begging you to join her when she found out you were considering the move. Just weeks later, the second bedroom in her apartment became yours and that’s how you met him.

~

one

It was only your third night in Philly and you were still unpacking, a glass of wine sitting on your dresser as you dug through the remaining boxes that were seemingly never-ending. It didn’t seem like this much stuff when you were packing it, but here you were overwhelmed with all of your belongings.

You were humming along to the music, taking it one box at a time as the room slowly came together when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you called, turning to face the door.

“Woah,” Aubrey muttered, “How’s it going in here?”

“I know, I know,” you laughed, “It looks bad but I’m almost there.”

She nodded, stepping into the room and sitting on your bed, “Time for a break?”

You knew what the hopeful smile on her face meant, she had plans for the two of you.

You looked at her with hesitant eyes and she chuckled, remembering how well you knew her.

“I was thinking we could go meet some of my friends?” Aubrey continued, “I’m kind of seeing this one guy and his friends are great. They’re a lot but I think you’ll love them and they’ll love you.”

“Aubrey, I-” You paused, “I really should finish up in here.”

“Come on, Y/N, we have all day tomorrow to finish and you need a break. I feel like I’ve barely even seen you and it’s been three days.”

You let out a laugh at her words, she was right. It felt like your life had been on hold for so long but now you had the opportunity to start fresh, to put yourself out there in a world that had no existing opinions of you.

“Fine,” you groaned, standing up from your spot on the hardwood, “But you have to help me find something to wear.”

“Deal!” Aubrey exclaimed, dragging you out of the room and into her own to go through her closet.

Just over an hour later, you were squeezed into a booth of the bar surrounded by men almost twice your size. Aubrey failed to mention that the guy she was seeing, but not dating as she vehemently claimed, was a Flyer and so were his friends.

You didn’t know what to expect from the group, but it didn’t take long for you to conclude that they were sweethearts, especially Travis, Aubrey’s “friend.” After introducing you to each of them, it felt like you had always been a part of the gang.

The beer and conversation were flowing, the bellowing laughs coming from the table practically feeling the air of the entire bar. You quickly fell into the banter, fitting in right away after growing up with brothers.

“There he is!” You suddenly heard Kevin shout from next to you, “Took you long enough, Patty.”

You looked up from your drink to see the man you could only assume to be Patty, his tall frame towering over you as you sat on the edge of the booth. He was dressed in all black, and his hair was long and frankly, unkempt as it curled around his ears. Even in the dim light of the bar, you could make out his light eyes, the blue piercing you as he finally met your gaze from his seat directly across from yours.

“Nolan, this is my friend Y/N,” Aubrey started, “She just moved in with me.”

Nolan reached out his hand across the table which you happily met, secretly hoping he couldn’t feel how clammy you had gotten since he walked in. He softly smiled as your hands touched, the corners of his mouth barely lifting but just enough.

“Nice to meet you,” he mumbled.

“You too,” you replied, flickering your eyes to the other end of the table before you caught yourself staring.

You were right away distracted by something Travis was chirping Claude for from this morning’s practice, but something about the man sitting just a few feet away from you was still consuming your thoughts.

You were pretty sure he had already decided that he didn’t like you. He had barely said a word aside from his initial pleasantries, but from then on it was almost like he wasn’t even acknowledging your presence. You didn’t know why you even cared, but there was something about his presence that made you on edge.

“I’m going to get another one,” you blurted out, everyone’s attention shifting to you.

“I’ll come with,” Aubrey declared.

“I’m good, stay,” you responded, giving her a knowing look. She was practically sitting in Travis’s lap, her hands wrapped around his neck while his eyes were stuck on her like she was the only one in the room. Not dating, my ass, you thought to yourself.

You slid off the cushion and headed towards the bar, the air already feeling lighter the further away from the group you got. You loved them, they were great, but it was just so much new at once. You needed a breather.

It was a packed Friday night and you knew it would be a while before you got your drink, so you sat down on the first available stool you saw. You caught the bartender's attention right away, but she was clearly swamped. You sent her a reassuring nod, telling her to take her time. She smiled right back at you, evidently grateful for your patience.

After what felt like barely a minute of waiting, you felt a body slide next to yours, the scent of cheap cologne overwhelming you as you braced yourself for what was about to happen.

“Hi there,” he spoke, leaning his weight against the bar top as he boxed you in.

“Hi,” you sighed. To put it simply, you were not in the mood.

“You got a name?”

“I do,” you chuckled in disbelief, turning your body away from his as your eyes scanned the room for anyone familiar. Which of course there wasn’t.

“A snappy one, alright,” he spoke, his hot breath fanning over your neck, “Well I’m Brett, what are you drinking?”

“Nothing,” you snapped.

“Oh c’mon, let me buy you a drink,” he continued, either not picking up on your hints or purposely ignoring them.

“I’m really all set.”

Just before he was about to open his mouth to speak once again, you felt his hand rest flat against your back, your body arching away from him immediately at the contact.

“Do not fucking touch her.”

The deep voice echoed in front of you, your vision clouded as your mind raced in a million directions.

“Listen, man, I got this.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” you heard, the vibrations of his voice running straight through your body.

Nolan.

You may have just met him, but that was a body and voice you couldn’t forget.

You had no idea what overcame you, but before you could process what you were doing you wrapped your arms around his torso. Nolan immediately reciprocated, his arm falling across your shoulders and pulling you close to his frame.  

“Just leave,” Nolan asserted, “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. It’s already embarrassing enough that you can’t take no for an answer.”

Your body relaxed against his, Nolan’s words calming your worst fears right away. From your vantage point, you assumed Nolan easily had at least six inches and thirty pounds on him. That seemed to be enough for him, backing away with a faulty glare and disappearing into the crowd.

“Nolan, I-” you stuttered, not knowing what to say, “Thank you,” you finally got out, your voice barely loud enough to hear over the hum of voices.

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered, his aura still cold.

You were so caught up in the shock of the moment that you hadn’t realized you were still holding each other, and right away you dropped your arm from his waist. Nolan did the same, awkwardly moving to sit on the stool next to you and flag the bartender.

You missed the warmth of his body right away, the spicy scent of his skin in stark contrast to the Axe you could only assume the other one was wearing. You swore you could still feel the ripple of his abs beneath his t-shirt on your fingertips. It was silent for a minute, both of you trying to come up with the right words.

“I really can’t thank you enough. Let me buy this round,” you pleaded, your eyes locking with his.

“Y/N,” Nolan started, your face flushing as your name fell from his lips, “I’m buying.”

You smiled up at him, nodding before looking back down in hopes of hiding the flush you felt creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks.

“Can I be honest, Nolan?” You questioned.

“Shoot.”

“Do you not like me? Did I do something? I wasn’t expecting that from you of all people-” you rambled until Nolan cut you off.

“First of all, I would have done that even if I hated you. But no, I like you, Y/N. A friend of a friend of TK’s is a friend of mine.”

You laughed at the last part before you could even process the first. Nolan’s cheeks went red, clearly embarrassed at his cliché phrasing but it didn’t matter how badly he made a fool of himself as long as you were smiling. The way your eyes scrunched and your nose turned up while you laughed was enough to make him forget the day he had.

Your laughter was interrupted by your drinks, the woman leaving you with a knowing smile before she turned away. Nolan and you both stood up ready to head back to the table before he stopped you.

“Friends?” He asked, putting his hand out in front of himself.

“Friends,” you agreed with a grin, shaking his hand before walking back to the group together.

~

two

You dreaded first days.

No matter how old you got, the anxiety of walking into an unfamiliar room full of unfamiliar faces never lessened. But you were ready, you reminded yourself, putting your head up and walking to the classroom like you had been there a hundred times before.

By the time you were walking out after the 90 minutes were up, your heart was pounding and you could feel the tears pricking the back of your eyes as you ran out of the building, not even bothering to introduce yourself to anyone.

The walk from the university back to your apartment was a blur. You couldn’t believe you had made such a poor first impression. You thought you were prepared, you had your notebook ready and all the right textbooks in order, but you somehow missed that there was an assignment due on the very first day.

As you rushed through the busy streets of the city, dodging people left and right, your mind raced back to that room.

“Ms. Y/L/N, can you please give your thoughts on the first case study?” Your professor questioned, intently watching you as your panic set in.

Your heart began to race and your palms sweat as you struggled to find the words to say that you hadn’t done the reading. This had never happened to you before, you were an A+ student for your entire life, almost unhealthily so. You couldn’t remember the last time you had missed an assignment, it just wasn’t something you did.

“Alright, then. Anyone else who actually checked the syllabus have something to say?”

Your professor's words were stuck in your head, playing over and over again when you finally reached your building. Now that you were so close to being in the comfort of your own space you could feel your wheels spinning, the stress and emotion overtaking your body.

Your hands shook as you tried to unlock the door, your body pushing through the threshold when you finally got it open.

“Aubrey?” You called as you walked through the hallway. She had known you for so long and always knew what to do to calm you down. But instead of Aubrey’s bright voice welcoming you back, you were met with silence.

“Where are you?” You muttered under your breath, your voice shaking as the tears threatened to spill over any second. As you turned the corner into the living room, you found three bodies spread across the couch, none of whom belonged to Aubrey.

“Oh,” you sputtered out, surprised to see Travis, Kevin, and Nolan watching a game.

“Y/N!” Travis called out, his infectious smile almost making your tight-lipped frown fade, “Aubrey just ran out for something but she should be back soon.”

You could feel Nolan’s gaze burning into you. You did your best to avoid his eye contact in hopes of hiding your current state from him. He had been nothing but kind to you, but you still felt so exposed standing in front of him, suddenly insecure about your outfit.

“I’m just going to go,” you whispered, pointing down the hall to your room. You felt horrible just ignoring them like that, but you knew you didn’t have it in you to keep up with them right now.

Your bag fell out of your hands almost instantly as soon as the door to your room clicked shut, the sound of your laptop hitting the hardwood floor making you cringe. You collapsed on your bed face first, the emotion you had been holding back for what felt like forever overwhelming you. Your body wracked in sobs as you replayed your embarrassment in a seemingly endless loop.

Nolan knew something was wrong the second he saw you. He may have only met you just a few days ago, but after growing up with two sisters he recognized the signs right away. He had no idea what was wrong, but he did know that you were barely holding it together.

Your head snapped up when you heard a series of soft knocks on your door, “Aubrey?” You asked, your voice rising with hope.

“No, uh, it’s Nolan.”

Your face fell when you heard his deep voice through the wood. You barely knew Nolan, he couldn’t see you like this. You paused for a moment wondering if he would just leave if you didn’t respond, but you could see his shadow through the bottom crack of your door, his feet were planted and didn’t show any signs of moving any time soon.

You silently groaned and picked yourself up, not even bothering to look in the mirror before opening the door because you knew it was not going to a pretty sight regardless. You hastily wiped underneath your eyes, the black of your mascara flaking right off your tear-stained skin. This wasn’t exactly how you wanted the new boy in your life to see you right after meeting you, but you just were friends, right?

“What, Nolan?” You sighed when you finally opened the door.

You didn’t mean to be so stark, but it just came out. His presence overwhelmed you just like it had at the bar a few nights ago. He was leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. The backward hat resting atop his head flattered him perfectly, drawing attention to the tufts of his brown hair curling around his ears and neck.

Nolan stood up straight as soon as he saw you, his eyes softening when his suspicions were confirmed: you had been crying.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he mumbled, his eyes never leaving your own.

The tension in your shoulders released as you looked up at him. He didn’t say anything else, just tilting his head down towards you as he continued to scan your face for any signs of how you were feeling. You couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was something about Nolan that made you feel so safe, so secure, like as long as you were with him you could avoid your demons.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No you’re not,” Nolan rebutted, raising his eyebrows as if he was challenging you to lie to him again.

You didn’t say anything, but rather you moved your body to the side and ushered him into your room. Nolan happily obliged, awkwardly standing as he took in his surroundings. Your room was just as he expected, it was minimal, just like his. You didn’t like clutter, everything had a place. It was one way you tried to control the chaos that was your life.

“You can sit,” you spoke, breaking the silence.

Nolan nodded and sat next to you at the foot of the bed. You couldn’t help but let your eyes trail along his leg, the way his thighs stretched the fabric of his sweatpants making your cheeks flush.

“It was my first day at this new program I’m in and it didn’t go well, that’s all,” you finally sputtered out, staring down at your lap as your hands fidgeted. “I’ve never been good at first impressions,” you added, a gentle laugh escaping your lip as you thought back to your first time meeting Nolan.

“Listen, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Nolan encouraged, “You seem like a pretty great person.”

You scoffed at his attempt to make you feel better, your emotions creeping their way back into your head.

“It was-” you paused, using every fiber within your being to try not to lose it in front of him, “It was bad.”

“C’mere,” Nolan whispered, turning on the bed to face you more and opening his arms, practically begging for your embrace.

You shook your head, closing your eyes as the fresh tears started burning. You were so selective in who you exposed your most vulnerable state to, and you barely knew Nolan. But despite this, you felt such an instant connection with him, and if his overt kindness was any indication, he felt the same way.

You let your final guard down, leaning back and curling into Nolan’s frame. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against him as one hand moved up to your head to rub soft circles into your hair.

“Go ahead and cry,” he hummed, his body gently rocking you back and forth.

You melted at his touch, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, the muted orange of his Flyers hoodie the last thing you saw before your eyes shut in sobs. His scent was overwhelming, the mix of his body wash and the leftover cologne lingering on his hoodie flooding your senses. You felt as if you disappeared in his grasp, like the world around you vanished and nothing else mattered.

You didn’t even know how much time had passed, but Nolan didn’t move an inch. He held you like it was the only thing he had to do all day. Once the tears stopped falling and your breathing steadied, you pulled back, instantly flooded with embarrassment.

“Wow,” you chuckled, wiping your cheeks, “I am so sorry, Nolan, I don’t know what happened I just-”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, “We’re friends, remember?” He teased, the corners of his mouth lifting in a gentle smile as he bumped your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you laughed.

“I think we were planning on grabbing some food,” Nolan mumbled, his hand scratching the back of his neck as he spoke, “If you want to come.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Come on, you’re coming. If I have to put up with those two out there so do you.”

You rolled your eyes, but it was the least you could do after what he had just done for you.

“Give me five minutes to look less dead.”

Nolan smiled as you agreed, slipping out of the room so you could change and freshen up.

“What the fuck was that?” Nolan was bombarded by Kevin as he sat back down.

“Nothing,” Nolan mumbled, not in the mood to be questioned about things he didn’t even know the answer to.

“She let you go in there?” Aubrey asked, just having gotten back.

“Yes?” He responded, confused by her question.

Aubrey didn’t bother getting into it and changed the subject instead, but inside she was scheming. She knew you, how closed off you were, but here you were opening up to Nolan like you’ve known him for years. Nothing made Aubrey happier than watching this friendship bloom, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there was potential for more.

~

three

Team galas usually didn’t bother Nolan, it was part of the job, but tonight it was the last place he wanted to be. His tux felt too tight, the stuffy conversation with potential sponsors was putting him to sleep, and his date was, to be frank, insufferable.

Nolan had no problem going to an event without a plus one, he and TK were usually the two single guys spending their time causing trouble, but now that Aubrey was in the picture Kevin had decided he had seen enough. So, despite Nolan begging him to leave him alone, Kevin set him up with one of his friends from Boston.

She was just as Kevin described, beautiful and smart, but that was about all. Nolan was calm and reserved, at least until he was comfortable with someone, but she was the complete opposite. Her personality filled the entire room and although he admired her confidence, Nolan was exhausted. He felt like he couldn’t be himself, like he had to work to match her energy.

After what felt like hours of entertaining her and Kevin, Nolan made his escape to the bar. It was the first moment to himself he had, the relief immediately flooding him as he leaned against the counter. He titled his glass to the bartender, silently requesting a refill when he felt his phone buzzing in the pocket of his suit pants.

Nolan begrudgingly pulled the phone, wondering who it could possibly be. The entire team was with him and it was unlike his family to call him on a Saturday night. But when he saw your name flashing across the screen, his whole demeanor shifted.

“Nolan!” He heard you exclaim, your voice like a breath of fresh air.

“Y/N?” He questioned. You had never called him out of the blue like this before. Nolan nodded to the bartender thanking him before taking his drink and walking out to the empty hallway so he could hear you better. “Everything okay?”

It wasn’t really. You had just come back home from a date, one Aubrey practically forced you to go on. You pleaded to her that you were fine, that you weren’t ready to start dating in the city yet, but regardless, you found yourself sitting across from one of her coworkers at a restaurant downtown.

There was nothing wrong with him, he was nice, but it was evident to you before your drinks were even ordered that this wasn’t going to work. You pushed through the meal, putting on your best fake smile and pretending to laugh at his forced humor. You politely declined his offer to walk you home, instead opting to get an Uber so you could get out of your dress as soon as possible.

Now you were home, your sweats on and hair up with a glass of wine in your hand. The glass quickly turned into almost the entire bottle, drowning your sorrows of another failed date with your favorite red. That’s when you made the mistake of picking up your phone, your fingers scrolling through your contacts until you found the one name you knew would be able to distract you.

“I’m great. I mean I’m not, but it’s fine,” you rambled, your words slurred as you spoke.

For once it was you mumbling and not Nolan. He didn’t know what, but his gut was telling him that something was wrong, he could practically smell the alcohol on your tongue through the phone. After a long pause of trying to figure out what to say, his thoughts were interrupted.

“Come over?” You whispered, “I’m so sick of being alone.”

Nolan’s heart dropped at your words, his eyes blinking shut as he pondered his next move. His eyes scanned the ballroom, finally landing on his date. She was sitting at their table, Nolan’s empty seat sticking out like a sore thumb, laughing at whatever story of his college days Kevin was regurgitating. He would feel like an ass if he just left, and he would be lying if he said the prospect of an easy lay hadn’t crossed his mind tonight, but you were more important.

“Give me twenty.”

-

Since calling Nolan you had migrated from your bed to the couch, a blanket sprawled across your body while you laid horizontal. The only light in the room was from the TV as one of your comfort movies played. You were barely paying attention, instead zoning out and staring at the lit-up city around you from the window.

Your mindless thoughts were interrupted by a series of knocks on the door. You threw the blanket off of your body and stood up, slowly dragging your feet across the hardwood as you made your way. But you were nowhere near prepared for what you saw as soon as you opened the door.

Nolan towered over you in the door frame. He was wearing a suit, the soft, grey fabric clinging to his thighs and shoulders perfectly. His long hair was slicked back and tucked behind his ears. The scent of his cologne overwhelmed you instantly, the warm aroma making you want to melt into him. One hand was resting in his pant pocket, while the other was carrying a take-out bag from one of your favorite spots.

“Hi,” Nolan quietly muttered, breaking the silence.

His deep voice broke the trance you were in, and that’s when the realization hit you.

“I completely forgot you guys had that thing tonight,” you blurted, the alcohol in your bloodstream clogging your train of thought, “I am so sorry. You have to go back, I feel horrible.”

Your hands came up to your face, hiding your embarrassment. How could you forget? You spent hours this morning helping Aubrey pick out her dress.

“Y/N,” Nolan cooed, his large hands gently pulling your own off of your face, “I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

Nolan didn’t let you get another word out before he was pushing past your body. He wasn’t even enjoying himself at the event and the last thing he wanted to do was go back.

It didn’t long for the two of you to finish the food, opting to head back to the couch and ignore the many empty containers for now.

“I’m never going on a date ever again,” you slurred, “I don’t even want to look at a man ever again.”

Despite trying to be quiet, Nolan couldn’t hide his chuckle. He had heard similar frustrations from his two sisters growing up. He had been around endless assholes throughout his life, he knew how exhausting it must have been to try to find a decent one.

“Can’t blame you,” he mumbled.

Your body slumped against the back of the couch, your eyes slipping shut as the wine and food started to lull you into a sleepy haze. Nolan scanned your face, a soft smile creeping onto his face as he watched your chest gently rise and fall with each breath. Before he could catch himself, he lifted his hand and pushed back the hair that had fallen in your face, tucking it behind your ear.

In that moment Nolan knew that he was fucked.

Never before had he dropped everything for a girl as he did for you tonight. But he also had never connected with someone like he did with you. You didn’t force him to be something he wasn’t, there was no pressure to put on an act. It just felt natural with you. But your words from just a few minutes before lingered in the back of his head. You made it clear that you weren’t looking for anything right now, it only took one miserable date to remind you of that. So Nolan pulled his hand away, trying to ignore the burning of your skin against his fingertips as they trailed across your soft cheek.

You were friends. Just friends.

-

You had no idea how much time had passed, but suddenly you felt yourself stir awake, your eyes peeling open to find yourself tucked into Nolan’s side. His body was warm below yours, his arm resting across your shoulders holding you in place as you lay against his chest. From your peripheral vision, you could see his suit jacket on one of the couch cushions, the soft material of his button-down rubbing on your cheek.

You had two options. You could either acknowledge that you awkwardly fell asleep on him in your drunken state, or you could pretend that you never woke up and continue to enjoy the comfort of his embrace.

Needless to say, you chose the latter.

But you must have dozed off again because the next time you woke up you were being carried into your bedroom. Your arms were wrapped tightly across Nolan’s neck, the tips of your fingers naturally lifting to twirl the tufts of his hair.

“Shhh, I got you,” Nolan whispered as he felt you move, just before he laid you down onto your bed, “I’ll be right back.”

Nolan hastily left the room, leaving you to bask in the memory of his warmth as your head fell back against your pillow. Within just a few seconds he was back, placing a cool glass of water on your nightstand table. But almost just as fast as he came back, he was leaving again.

“Stay,” you murmured, watching him pause at the outline of your door.

“I- I got the couch.”

“Okay,” you responded, trying to hide your disappointment.

Nolan visibly cringed the second your door was closed, his head falling to his lap once he sat down. He wanted nothing more than to climb into bed with you. The thought of holding you beneath the sheets and feeling your soft skin in contrast to his rough hands made him dizzy. But the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. You weren’t sober enough to say he could stay, and there was no chance in hell Nolan was going to risk scaring you off. So he took the couch, laying across the cushions with his eyes locked on your door until his eyelids gave in to his exhaustion. 

~

four

It was finally Friday, another week in the books. 

Your classes were taking more out of you than you had expected, the hours of reading and note-taking blending together as you finally closed your last tab. You had no plans for the night, and you honestly couldn’t be happier about it. A hot shower, takeout, and falling asleep early encompassed your perfect night recently.

Just as you were about to get in the shower, you were distracted by your phone ringing. You picked it up, surprised to see it was Kevin calling.

“Hi, Kevin,” you spoke, a slight edge to your words. You adored Kevin, he was an absolute sweetheart, but sometimes you just didn’t have the patience.

“What are you doing tonight?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, “Nothing.”

“Incorrect, you’re coming over and hanging out with me and Pat.”

“I am?” You laughed, taken aback by Kevin’s forwardness.

“Teeks and Aubrey are coming too, come on, Y/N,” he continued.

You knew you weren’t getting out of this without a real excuse, no matter how much you wanted to stay in. You hadn’t seen Nolan since the night you embarrassed yourself, the cringe of drunk dialing him after a bad date had yet to escape your memory.

“What time?”

“Uh- Let’s say 7.”

“Alright, Kev. See you later,” you hung up the phone, throwing it back on your bed before getting in the shower.

-

As you approached the boys’ apartment door, it was quieter than you expected it to be. Aubrey said she was already with Travis and would meet you there, so you were arriving alone. You assumed they would already have been there by now, but you ignored the silence and knocked on the door.

Just a few seconds later, the door swung open and you were face to face with Nolan. Your eyes widened when you saw him, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his bare torso staring at you. You quickly composed yourself, using every ounce of self-control within you to avoid trailing your gaze across his broad shoulders and down his chest, the curves and divots of his abs making your mouth water.

“Sorry,” Nolan mumbled, his cheeks flushing even redder than they usually were, “I thought you were Kevin, he always forgets his keys. Come in.”

You followed Nolan into the apartment, the muscles of his back rippling as his arms swung. You sat down on the couch, awkwardly waiting while he disappeared into his room. He came back just a few seconds later, his body now hidden behind a wrinkly t-shirt.

“Where is everyone?” You questioned, your body stiff as Nolan relaxed into the cushion next to you.

“Not sure,” he mumbled, the red of his cheeks lingering, “Kev said you were coming with Aubrey?”

Your face scrunched in confusion, “He told me she was coming here with Travis.”

Nolan then pulled his phone out and started typing a message to Kevin, desperate to figure out where he was. For some reason being here with you alone was making him nervous, there was an awkward energy in the air that had never been there before.

Nolan was reaching for the TV remote, about to ask you if you wanted to put something on when his phone sounded.

Kevin: You’re welcome

Now it was Nolan’s turn to furrow his eyebrows, the boy even more confused by Kevin’s message.

Kevin: We couldn’t watch you two anymore please just do something

Kevin: I’ll be out all night

Kevin: Don’t forget protection!

Of course. Of course, this little miscommunication was, in fact, a setup. But the worst part was that Nolan knew Kevin was right. No matter how hard he tried, he had been pining over you since that very first night. And now here you two were in an empty apartment with enough sexual tension to last the year.

“No one’s coming, are they?” You broke the silence, snapping Nolan out of his trance.

He threw his phone to the side as a slight smile crept across his stern face, “Nope,” he chuckled.

If you thought there was tension before, it didn’t even compare to what you felt now. Since meeting Nolan you were under the impression that your secretly harbored feelings for him were just that, a secret, but apparently, you weren’t as subtle as you thought. This had Aubrey written all over it, and you knew Travis was under her spell and would do anything to help her, and bonus points for chirping Nolan simultaneously. It was the elephant in the room, your mutual feelings still not being spoken but you both knew you had been called out by the people who knew you best.

“What are you thinking about?” Nolan whispered, the rough hum of his voice sending chills down your spine.

You couldn’t get even a single word out, your thoughts and feelings jumbling in your mind. After all this time the perfect opportunity was finally handed to you on a silver platter, but you still couldn’t do it.

Nolan could sense your hesitation, your close proximity and sweet scent clouding his consciousness.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking about,” he murmured, turning his body so he was facing you.

Your eyes had yet to leave your lap, your focus stuck on the rip of your jeans. You jumped when you felt his warm touch on your lower thigh, the warmth of his calloused hands making your heart rate rise even though the thick denim. His size was intoxicating and he made you feel like putty as he leaned closer to you.

“Y/N,” Nolan mumbled, his voice deeper than ever before.

You finally lifted your gaze, turning your head up to look at him. His baby blue eyes were piercing yours, the contact lighting a fire within you. Every reasonable thought in your head was telling you to pull away, to grab your bag and politely excuse yourself. You weren’t ready for a relationship, you had barely put yourself back together after your last heartbreak and Philly was supposed to be different. But as you sat here, your face just inches away from Nolan’s, you gave in to your desire.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you connected your lips with his, immediately sighing in relief as his soft pout worked perfectly against you. You hastily swung your hips over and seated yourself on Nolan’s lap, an eager groan escaping him when your body rolled into his. His hands splayed across your hips, moving to circle your ass as he helped you grind deeper into his already hardening length.

Nolan trailed his lips down your jaw, nibbling and sucking on the plane of your neck. You knew he was leaving marks, but in the moment you couldn’t care less, the euphoria of his touch being the only comprehensive feeling.

“Please,” you whined, tightening your grip on his long locks, “Nolan.”

You couldn’t remember the last time someone had ignited you as Nolan had. He had barely even touched you and you were nearly certain you had already soaked through your panties, withering in his lap desperate for more.

“Now she has something to say,” Nolan teased, whispering into the shell of your ear. He gave you no warning before he was standing up, holding the back of your legs as you instinctually wrapped them around his waist.

Nolan gently tossed you on his bed, pausing to pull his shirt off before he was climbing on top of you. You were in a state of bliss, finally able to admire his frame shamelessly and without fear of getting caught. He continued to attack your neck, leaving mark after mark behind in his wake. You whimpered impatiently as his lips worked your sensitive skin, but Nolan was set on taking his time. He didn’t know if he would ever have you like this again and he was going to savor every second of it.

But you decided to take matters into your own hands, pushing his frame off of yours and pulling your sweater over your head. You grabbed Nolan’s face again, cupping both of his cheeks as your lips met again. He made quick work of your bra, unclasping it with ease behind your back and tossing it across the room.

“Fuck, you’re stunning,” he groaned, pausing to take you in. Your hair was splayed across the pillow, your cheeks flushed while your chest heaved up and down with heavy breathing. His praise went straight to your core, clenching around nothing as you grew more and more desperate for him.

Nolan wasted no more time, finally making his way down your torso before reaching the hem of your pants. His fingertips slowly ran beneath the fabric, stopping only to look up at you. Your eyes locked and you frantically nodded, understanding that he was waiting for your permission before continuing.

“Words, Y/N,” Nolan hummed into your thigh, his order gentle but firm.

“Yes,” you breathed out, “Fuck, yes.”

Nolan did as you said, unzipping your jeans and sliding them down your legs. He almost lost his balance on the mattress when he saw you laying before him, the pink lace resting across your hips being the only thing keeping him from you. Nolan settled himself between your legs, hooking both of them over his shoulders as his hot breath fanned over your pussy.

Nolan placed a soft kiss to your lace-covered clit, basking in your reaction as you let out an embarrassingly loud moan and your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair. Your hips jerked up into the air, desperate for more friction. Nolan laid his thick forearm across your waist, his weight halting all of your movements and holding you at his mercy.

“Nolan, please just fuck me,” you begged, the suspense too much to handle as you felt yourself drip down the crease of your thigh.

“All in good time, baby,” he cooed, pulling your panties to the side and finally connecting with your throbbing pussy.

You cried out as his tongue flicked your clit back and forth, the pleasure only magnifying when he sucked it between his teeth. Your hands were locked with an iron grip in the roots of his hair, holding on like your life depended on it. Nolan hummed against your core as he continued to taste you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your body.

Suddenly Nolan pulled back, but before you could protest you heard ripping. A gasp left your lips when you realized what he had done, the mangled lace of your panties now laying on his floor. You wanted to yell at him, complain that those were your favorite, but before you could get a word out he was back at work, this time fucking his tongue in and out of you.

Your head fell back against the pillow, your mouth opening in a silent scream when you felt him slide two fingers inside while his mouth circled your clit again. Nolan curled his fingers against your sweet spot and you knew you were done for, your back arching off the mattress as you combusted with your orgasm.

Nolan milked you through your high, his tongue flattening against your clit as his head shook and his fingers kept their pace. He finally slowed down as he felt you come down, pulling back to watch you shake as the last waves of pleasure rolled through your body. He slipped his fingers out of your fluttering pussy, only to bring them to his mouth and suck your juices clean.

“You’re really good at that,” you stammered, just now coming back to your senses after almost blacking out.

Nolan laughed, kissing his way back up your body until you two were face to face again. You couldn’t resist pulling him down and crashing your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

“I’m good at other things too,” he smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear, just as he had done last week, except this time he didn’t have to hide it. The soft action made your heart flutter, but his words made something else flutter.

“Give me your best, Patrick,” you challenged.

“Your wish is my command, baby.”

Nolan pushed off his arms and stood up, hurriedly stripping himself of his sweats and boxers in one fell swoop. A whimper escaped your lips when you heard the sound of his cock slapping against his stomach, your pupils dilated as your eyes trailed down his thighs admiring his tattoos. 

Reaching across you to get a condom from his nightstand, Nolan was surprised when you plucked it right from his hand. You tore open the foil and slowly rolled the condom onto him, a small smile spreading across your face when his hips buckled into your hand at your touch.

You may have been embarrassingly weak for him, but he was just as weak for you.

Nolan shifted on the bed so he was hovering over your body, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth. Your lips moved in sync with one another, the pure lust filling the room dictating every movement. He felt you grow more and more impatient, your body stirring beneath his as he finally pulled away.

Taking one last look at you spread out before him, waiting for him to touch you, Nolan directed his attention back to between your legs. He locked eyes with you before collecting the salvia in his mouth, harshly spitting on your pussy. The moan you let out was only amplified when he started teasing you even more, dragging the head of his cock through your soaking folds.

“Nolan,” you whined, the last letter of his name prolonged as you begged, your entire body tensing while he tapped your already so sensitive clit.

“Shhh,” he cooed, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against your hip, “Got to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Before you could get in another word of protest, Nolan was pushing one of your legs into your chest and sliding inside. Your mouth fell open as he slowly bottomed out, the sensation of him filling you paralyzing. A string of deep swears left his lips as he felt you already clenching around him.

After letting you adjust, Nolan started rocking his hips, quickly finding his rhythm. You didn’t have a single thought in your head, the way he hit your sweet spot inside and ground against your clit making you dizzy.

Nolan had never been in such bliss. He could never have imagined how good you would feel wrapped around him, your walls still pulsating from your first high as he slid in and out. The way your name sounded falling from his lips was pure ecstasy, his innate possessiveness in full drive. Your nails dug into his back, dragging burning lines into his skin that he knew he would be tormented about tomorrow in the locker room but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the way your bodies fit together in perfect harmony right this moment.

You could feel yourself growing close within mere minutes, Nolan’s relentless thrusts giving you no mercy. He could tell you were almost there by the way you were fluttering around him, along with the mindless sounds of pleasure escaping your lips getting louder and louder.

“That’s it,” Nolan encouraged in your ear, “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Between his hot breath against your tingling skin and his plunging thrusts, Nolan had you seeing stars.

“Nolan, Nolan,” you whined.

You swore you almost blacked out, your vision going blank as he fucked you through your high. He wasn’t far behind you, the clenching of your pussy egging him on until he finally let go, his hips stuttering and groans filling the air as his head fell into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” Nolan sighed, letting his heart rate steady as he laid above you, resting the majority of his weight on his forearms.

“Yeah,” you responded with a breathy laugh, your mind still blank as you came down.

Nolan stayed there for a few minutes before finally sitting up, cringing as you whimpered when he pulled out. Your eyes slipped shut, but you could hear him shifting around the room. After pulling on a pair of fresh boxers and dampening a towel, Nolan gently cleaned you up, biting back a smirk each time you shivered at his touch. He disappeared again, this time returning with a shirt in hand, urging you to sit up so he could help you pull the soft fabric over your head.

You had every intention of getting dressed and leaving, but you just couldn’t find the energy to remove yourself from his warm bed. The sheets that smelled like him enveloped you, and now his t-shirt was draped over your shoulders begging you to stay. Nolan slid next to you, his body cradling yours from behind as he wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you impossibly close.

“Sleep well, Y/N,” Nolan hummed into your neck as he settled in.

“Goodnight,” you managed to get out, the shame of what you had just done starting to spiral in your head.

You made a mistake. Nolan was good, so good, and he deserved more than you could give him. Your last relationship ended in disaster, leaving you broken and abandoning the idea of finding love ever again. Regardless of what you told your friends and family, it was what drove you from home. Then came Nolan, he was the definition of kind. Even when he barely knew you he did whatever he could to protect you. That kind of guy deserves someone who’s got it together, not whatever mess you were. You couldn’t believe you let your attraction to him get the best of you, and now here you were, pressed against his sleeping frame as he held you.

Everything inside of you was telling you to leave. It was too much, the eventual pain of whatever this was ending was overwhelming. You could hear Nolan snoring behind you, the sound of his contentment almost bringing tears to your eyes. Gently lifting his arm from its spot across your waist, you slid from underneath his grasp. It was nearly impossible to find your clothes in the dark, but you managed to do so without making too much noise. Nolan didn’t even stir as you moved around him, folding the shirt he gave you and placing it on the nightstand.

Just as you reached for the door, you felt yourself pause. Don’t do it, Y/N. Don’t do it. But you couldn’t resist, slowly turning to take in what you were leaving behind.

Nolan was passed out, his body leaning towards the pillow where you once laid your head and his arm laying flat as if he was still holding you. You could make out the redness of his cheeks in the dim light, his eyelashes curling down onto his cheeks. Your heart broke as you looked at him, but you knew it was what you had to do. He deserved the world, which was much more than you were able to give him. Without giving it another second of thought, you opened the door as quietly as possible and made your escape.

~

+ one

It had been over three weeks since you last spoke to Nolan.

You couldn’t handle facing him just yet, so you did what you knew best: shutting out the people that cared about you the most. You ignored every single one of his calls and texts, eventually muting his number when it became too much. You replayed what you imagined he looked and felt like that morning, waking up to a cold, empty bed. It was heartbreaking, but you stayed firm in your decision. As long as you didn’t have to see his face you would be fine.

But of course, Aubrey had different plans for you.

Since that night, you had been more distant from her than ever before. You left the apartment early in the morning, spending your day in class and bouncing between different coffee shops while working. You kept up appearances when you returned in the evening, saying hello and asking her how her day was, but practically nothing else. You made an early exit to your room, citing homework or lack of sleep as your excuse. But she knew you better than anyone else, it was no secret something was wrong. Much to your content, you could only assume that Nolan was keeping your secret as well, knowing that if he told anyone on the team you would be getting an earful from her.

But Aubrey had decided that she was done letting you sulk about whatever it was you were so clearly upset by. The Flyers had been away for almost two weeks and tonight was their first game back home. Thanks to Travis, she had two tickets in hand ready for the two of you.

Before you had even shut the apartment door behind you after arriving home, she was jumping up to greet you.

“Hey!” Aubrey exclaimed as you walked in, “We’re going out tonight.”

You just stared at her confused, knowing damn well you had no intention of going anywhere. “Hey,” you started, “I- I don’t think so, I have a lot to do.”

“No, you don’t. Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you but I’m sick of watching you wallow in whatever it is. I’ve barely talked to you in almost a month, you’re coming with me,” Aubrey snapped. If there was one thing about having such an old friend it was that she always gave it to you straight.

“Where?” You begrudgingly inquired.

“Nope, it’s a surprise,” she answered. If her inkling was correct, whatever had you in this funk had something to do with a certain Flyers centerman and she was not risking you ditching because of it.  

“Fine,” you groaned.

It wasn’t news to you that you had been a horrible friend recently. Despite the anxiety that came with breaking your current routine, maybe a night with Aubrey was just what you needed to take your mind off everything.

-

A few hours had passed, and you were sitting in the back of an Uber watching the city pass you by. Aubrey maintained the anonymity of the destination, ignoring all of your pleas for even just a hint. But there were some things that she couldn’t control.

Your stomach dropped when you saw where the car was heading towards, the large Wells Fargo Center plastered on the side of the building cluing you in. Of course, you thought, how could you not have known. You had so strictly blocked Nolan and the entire team from your mind that didn’t think to look at their schedule, but now it all made sense.

“Aubrey, no,” you stated, your voice already shaking as you got closer and closer.

“What the hell happened?” she snapped back, finally getting confirmation that your funk was related to Nolan.

“Nothing, nothing happened. I just don’t want to go,” you rebutted, “I’m not in the mood to see everyone, okay?”

“You don’t have to, we’re sitting alone,” she responded, turning her phone on and showing you the location of the tickets. As she promised, they were nowhere near the family boxes.

You didn’t say anything else, instead choosing silence as the car pulled up to the entrance. You both thanked the driver before quickly exiting, a long, awkward silence falling over the two of you as you entered the arena.

You could do this, you told yourself while adjusting in your seat. You could sit through one game, you didn’t even have to see or talk to anyone. If it would make Aubrey happy, you could suck it up and sit down. The two of you had still barely said a word to each other since arriving, and you could see the disappointment on her face. Deciding it was time to get over it, you put your arm around Aubrey, smiling as you instantly felt her relax and place her head on your shoulder. Neither of you said anything, but after knowing each other for so long, you didn’t have to. She knew what you meant.

-

You didn’t know what to expect, but the second you saw Nolan step onto the ice you were flooded with emotion. He looked tired, like he hadn’t been sleeping much or well, and your heart dropped at the thought that you may have been the reason why. You still were firm in your decision to avoid anything serious right now, but you knew you went about it in the completely wrong way. Nolan was the closest thing you had ever met to an angel, but you treated him like a random one night stand from the bar you barely knew. The guilt had overtaken you over the past few weeks, and seeing him in the flesh wasn’t helping.

It was a relatively uneventful game, the rebuilding Red Wings visiting and not giving the Flyers much of a fight. By the third period they were up 4-0, one of which was scored by number 19 himself. As the horn sounded signaling the end of the game, Aubrey turned to you.

“I was going to go see Travis,” she hesitated, “Do you want to come? Or I can meet you right after?”

“I’ll wait for you,” you encouraged.

Aubrey thanked you, squeezing your hand before getting up and heading downstairs. Instead of going to the main concourse to wait, you stayed in your seat, waiting for the crowds to clear out before you moved. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you started mindlessly scrolling as a distraction.

But your distraction didn’t last for long.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your eyes slipped shut when you heard his voice, that same voice that left you weak in the knees. You immediately felt your heart begin to race and your palms sweat. You felt caught. After taking a moment to pause, you finally mustered up the courage to look up at him.

Nolan’s eyes were focused on your own, his hair slicked back and soaking wet still with sweat. He had definitely not showered yet, between the fact that the game just ended minutes ago and his appearance. He was dressed in his undergarments and slides, clearly he wasted no time before coming up here to find you.

“How did you even know I was here?” you questioned back, already feeling yourself on the defense.

“Really?” Nolan scoffed, “Travis told me. How else would I have known? It’s not like you talk to me.” He trailed off, his words becoming quieter.

“Nolan, please,” you pleaded, “Please sit down.”

There was no doubt in your mind that it was time for you to come clean. You could see the pain in his eyes and the hurt behind his voice. He obliged, sinking to sit in the seat beside you, but he didn’t turn to face you. His coldness was evident, and you knew that you deserved nothing else.

“I’m sorry,” you began, “I’m so sorry, Nolan. I- I shouldn’t have left like that, with no explanation-”

“I thought I had you,” he interrupted, “Finally, Y/N, after all those weeks of tiptoeing around it, I thought we were done pretending.”

You could feel the tears burning behind your irises, and it was taking everything within you not to let them out. Nolan’s words broke you, even more than you were already broken.

“Nolan, I wanted- I want,” you corrected yourself, “Nothing more than to give myself to you, but I- I just can’t. I’m not ready.”

“Then why did you sleep with me?” his voice cracked, “And what does that even mean, ‘you’re not ready’?”

“I can’t let myself get hurt again, okay? I can’t do it,” you sighed, finally succumbing to your emotion, “I am so sorry for dragging you into my mess, but I can’t let myself go through that again. And you deserve so much better.”

Your head fell to your hands, hiding your face from him as you cried. Even just speaking out loud your last heartbreak made you a wreck. Deep down you knew Nolan wasn’t capable of hurting you like that, but you wouldn’t let him take care of you anymore. You couldn’t. He deserved someone who didn’t need to be taken care of.

“Y/N,” Nolan hummed, gently placing a hand on your back. He cringed when you jumped at his touch. “Y/N, look at me, please.”

You did as he asked, your red, puffy eyes lifting to meet his baby blues, putting you at ease almost right away.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nolan murmured, “I don’t know what you think, but you’re not a burden. You’re the complete opposite and I want to show you that. If you’ll let me.” He paused, his eyes frantically scanning your face for any sign of your reaction. You were staring ahead of you, entranced with the ice below as you processed his words. Despite knowing how much it could potentially hurt, Nolan said what he thought he had to, “Even if it’s just as friends, but you can’t disappear on me again.”

You made Nolan feel at peace, like when he was with you nothing else mattered. But no matter how strong his feelings were, he cared for you enough to put them aside if that’s what it took to keep you in his life.

“I don't want to be friends,” you whispered, finally breaking the silence.

As if there was some kind of magnifying force between the two of you, your body lunged towards Nolan’s, your lips crashing together instantly. He was stunned, his body frozen in shock, but within seconds he melted against your touch with one hand on your lower back and the other tangled in your hair. It felt like time stopped in that moment, the only thing making you pull away was the lack of air.

You were both breathless, your foreheads resting against one another. Nolan took both of your hands in his, intertwining his much larger fingers with yours.

“I trust you,” you breathed out.

The grin that spread on Nolan’s face was like nothing you had ever seen before. You matched him right away, smiling as you watched the pure joy and relief wash over. The same joy and relief that you were feeling.

“Does this mean I finally get to take you out?” he asked, his deep mumble making you feel right at home again.

“Maybe,” you teased, “Only if you shower,” you added, pretending to push him off of you.

Nolan couldn’t help but fall into a fit of laughter at your subtle jab. That’s what he loved about you most, the way you could earn a smile or chuckle out of him like no one else.

He stood up from his seat, extending his hand out as he stared down at you. Without even a crumb of doubt creeping its way into your mind, you took his hand. Wrapping your arms around Nolan’s and resting your head against his shoulder, you walked out and into the hallway together.

Nolan leaned down and pressed a gentle peck to your forehead, and for the first time in longer than you could remember, you felt untouchable.

~

[fadeintoyou1993]

don't mean to sound very rude, but i don't understand how you can hate josie saltzman for being abilist (i mean i do too but like moving on) but then love cheryl blossom even tho she's like wayy worse than her? like cheryl refused to let betty join the cheerleading team at school because she thought betty was too fat. in fact, she refers to betty as a dumb cow in the episode that follows. she stalked josie leaving insanely disturbing drawings in her locker and terrorising her to the point where she feared for her life and she then framed a random guy at school because she didn't want to get caught letting him take the fall for her predatory behaviour. she set her family home on fire and then threatened to k!ll her own mother in a hospital if she ever told anything to anyone, going as far as momentarily cutting her air supply to make her point. she publicly outed moose as bisexual against his wishes and, by the same occasion, exposes his relationship with kevin to the entire school. she asked archie to be her date at a maple syrup party hosted by her parents and when archie expressed to her that he wasn't comfortable with being her date while having a girlfriend cheryl sent her mother to bribe archie into submission and try to sabotage his relationship with valerie. AND THEN, when she tries to kiss archie at the party and he pulls back - visibly uncomfortable - she stops him from leaving the party by threatening him with the wrath of her entire family and the power of their wealth and she implies that archie's father will be ruined by the blossom's if archie walks away. she tried to deny a gay couples right to have a child by attempting to sabotage their relationship and trying to convince toni that she should be having the baby with her instead. she dismissed the sexual harassment stories of girls at school and brushed them off by calling them sluts. should i keep going? because this isn't even two percent of this list, but i feel like i've made my point.

cheryl is fucking awful and you can't hate a one character for doing bad things and then love another for doing even worse things.

this isn't directly pointed at you and i don't mean for this too come off as too rude but i'm done of many cheryl lovers who try to sell the narrative that cheryl is sweet and victim and they think she has a good heart because these people are wrong and need to recheck they're values. i understand that she has a storyline where her family doesn't accept her for being gay and sends her to conversion therapy while having ab*sed her for years but that doesn't change my opinions on her like it has for many other people. i understand that she's representation for the lgbtq+ community and, coming from someone who is part of it, is great but it doesn't erase her awful behaviour. there's absolutely nothing you can say to convince me cheryl is a good person, she's just not and people need to realise that.

sorry if this hurts your feelings, it wasn't my intention, and i hope that the rest of your day is amazing but i just needed to get this out of my system❤️.

i wish u had just posted this on ur blog instead of sending it to me it bc im not reading all that

[sankyeom]

splash! | l.jy

pairings: lee juyeon x reader genre: lifeguard!juyeon, summer love, strangers to lovers summary: in which you fall in love with the lifeguard at the hotel pool during your summer vacation and don’t want to have to say goodbye word count: 5.1k warnings: i said bullshit like once i think requested: nope, this is the result of me having a daydream about lifeguard juyeon and missing my home in santa cruz a lot bc i’m overseas right now note: i should have called this water after the boyz’ song, but i already made the banner say splash and i was too lazy to change it. also i was picturing ddd era juyeon for this fic so keep that in mind if you want 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

The salty air blowing in the breeze wasn’t a familiar scent, but you welcomed it as you draped yourself across the beach lounge chair by the hotel pool. You couldn’t have been more thankful for your best friend who surprised you with a beach-side vacation for the summer. Your third year of University had been difficult to say the least, and after your friend had seen you buried in books and notes, they decided enough was enough.

“Didn’t I say this was a good idea?” your best friend asked, shielding their face with a broad-brimmed sun hat. The two of you had opted to lounge by the pool for the day instead of hitting the beach, mostly because your friend wasn’t particularly fond of the ocean.

“Yes,” you hummed in agreement. “Didn’t I already acknowledge that you’re a genius?” you retorted, turning on your side to face your best friend. They made a vaguely dismissive motion with their hand, eliciting a laugh from you as you decided what book to read while you soaked up some sun.

A shout interrupted your thoughts. “Hey!” the call came from the lifeguard up on the tall wooden chair that designated his position. Your eyes followed the sound, intrigued by the sudden call. The man in question was tall, slender, and broad-shouldered, with light brown hair and honey blond highlights. He was speaking into a megaphone and seemed to be targeting a group of teenage boys. “They’re not interested. Stop bothering them and go along with your day,” you noticed the group of boys in question seemed to be lingering near some teenage girls. They scowled at the lifeguard, faces clearly displaying their embarrassment at being called out. It seemed as though they wanted to reply, perhaps say something snooty about them being guests there, but the lifeguard wouldn’t have it. “Don’t make me go down there. I will go down there,” he warned.

You cracked a smile as the group of boys mumbled to one another before stalking off with glares on their faces. “Well that was nice of him,” your friend had peeked out from under their sunhat long enough to witness the encounter. “He’s pretty cute,” they observed.

Pretty cute was an understatement.

As far as bodies went, his was clearly well maintained and rather impressive, but his face was what had caught your attention initially. He had clear, sharp eyes and a small, slender nose. His dyed hair made him appear to almost glow in the summer sun, skin tanned from being outside all day long. When you glanced down to observe his face, you realised you had been glancing at the stranger’s lips for far longer than socially acceptable and decided to just look away.

“I saw that,” your friend pointed out. “You think he’s more than just pretty cute, huh?” they teased you, wiggling their eyebrows as best as they could to further taunt you.

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” you lied, risking another look back at the lifeguard.

You hadn’t realised it, but the fairly close proximity to the lifeguard’s chair gave Juyeon both a clear view of you and your friend as well as the ability to hear your chatter. Having noticed you earlier as well, Juyeon could feel his ears burning with embarrassment as the two of you locked eyes. When you and your friend arrived, you had caught his attention because the two of you looked like you were very close and having a lot of fun. His summer job thus far had been anything but fun, and the way you looked when you laughed was simply radiant.

Noticing the tension in the area, your friend beamed. “Do you need me to work my magic?” they wondered, taking their hat off and giving you their full attention.

“You don’t have any magic,” you hissed back, breaking eye contact with the cute lifeguard to hush your friend. “And don’t be so loud, he’s not that far away,” you added in a whisper.

“Oh honey,” your friend sighed. “You need all the help you can get. Leave this to me,” they winked, taking off their cover up as you began to protest.

“No, stop that,” you whisper-yelled. “What are you doing, why are you-“ you cut yourself off as your friend not-so-elegantly dove into the pool. You exhaled loudly, looking up at the sky and hoping to any god that existed that your friend wasn’t going to embarrass you.

When your friend started swimming and going nowhere near the lifeguard, you decided you could calm down and not worry about their actions anymore. That was until your friend started shouting and flailing about in the pool, calling out for the lifeguard to help them as they struggled in the water. You furrowed your brows together. They were a perfect swimmer, there was no way they could really be drowning in a pool shallow enough for them to stand.

Without waiting, the lifeguard gracefully dove into the pool and paddled towards your best friend. “I’ve got you, you’re okay,” he told your friend, pulling them towards the edge of the pool. Still, your friend made a big show out of panicking and clinging onto him as he lifted them out of the water.

“Please,” you friend said between exaggerated coughs. “Get my friend,” they pleaded.

You groaned. This had been their plan all along.

With quick steps, you made your way towards the pair. “Are you okay?” you asked your friend, narrowing your eyes at them in warning. Translation: you’re so dead when we’re alone.

Their eyes widened as they nodded. “I had a leg cramp,” they explained innocently, stretching out their right leg and wincing. “Oh look, all better!” with that they jumped up happily and walked back to your lounge chairs.

Your jaw dropped in surprise at their actions as they left you and the lifeguard to kneel on the floor alone. His eyes drifted back to meet yours and he coughed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck with flushed cheeks. The way your eyes peered curiously at him made him want to squeal like an excited child, but Juyeon managed to restrain himself. “Um, I hope they’re okay,” he said awkwardly instead.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” you assured him, feeling your face warm up. “Um, I’m really sorry about them,” you tried to apologise for your friend’s obvious, and terrible, acting.

The handsome lifeguard blinked innocently at you. “Oh, it’s fine. Leg cramps are really common and I wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt under my watch,” then he smiled in a way that made your insides melt, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

He was the definition of breathtaking, and he seemed innocent and sweet enough to believe that your friend had really been in peril, which made him all the more cute. “I’m Juyeon,” he introduced himself, going to hold out his hand for you to shake before realising it was wet, and lowering it.

“I’m Y/n,” you replied, a laugh naturally escaping you without even trying. He was too sweet.

By the time you made your way back to your friend, they were already grinning at you with a knowing look on their face. “And you said I don’t have any magic,” they scoffed. “I wrote the book on magic, okay?”

“That was embarrassing as hell,” you said instead of agreeing with them. “Never do that again.”

Your friend ignored you. “What’s his name?” they asked.

You paused, getting comfortable on the lounge chair before facing them. “Juyeon,” you answered, and that was just as good as admitting their absurd plan had worked for your friend.

The bonfire was almost twice your own height by the time you arrived at the beach. Your friend had caught wind of the midnight bonfire from one of the waiters at the breakfast bar that morning, and had begged you to go almost all day long. After not seeing Juyeon at the pool all day, you were in the mood to get out of your head and eventually agreed to go.

You felt stupid looking for the lifeguard after only meeting him once, but there was something about him that made you want to get to know him better. Good looks aside, he was sweet and innocent and he had made your vacation a little more interesting by being your summer crush.

The night was slightly chilly, making you relieved that you had thought ahead and worn a cardigan so that you wouldn’t be cold. “Let’s get closer,” your friend suggested before dragging you to stand right by the fire pit. “Oh! It’s you,” their cheeky tone warned you of the fact that they had bumped into Juyeon before you even saw him. He looked comfortable in a short sleeve button up and jeans, and the fire illuminated his honey skin to make him appear as though he was truly glowing. “You saved my life,” your friend told him.

He laughed a low chuckle. “Ah, it’s just my job,” he waved it off with a small shrug. Then, his eyes met yours. “It’s good to see you again, Y/n,” Juyeon greeted.

The fact that he remembered your name shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but it definitely felt like a sign to you. You smiled. “You too,” you assured him. “What brings you here?”

“My friends Kevin and Jacob organised the bonfire,” Juyeon explained, pointing them out nearby. “I figured I might as well do something other than work all summer long,” he added with a bashful smile.

“Great idea,” your friend chimed. “I’m going to get some drinks, Y/n?” they offered but you waved them off, uninterested. Music started playing softly through a bluetooth speaker, and for a moment you were nervous that Juyeon would ask you to dance. You weren’t so confident in your ability to remember to breathe around him, nonetheless actually dance in an appealing way.

Almost as if he sensed your nerves, Juyeon held out his hand to you. “Want to see something cool?” he offered, titling his head slightly at you. Shrugging, you took his hand and let him lead you away from the bonfire and to a darker part of the beach.

“This is super suspicious, just so you know,” you informed him in a teasing tone. You weren’t actually nervous to be alone with Juyeon, there was something soothing about his presence that made you feel at ease.

Juyeon laughed. “Don’t you trust me?” he teased you right back.

“Well,” you hummed. “All I know about you is that you’re a lifeguard, your name is Juyeon, and that your friends are all back at the bonfire along with mine.”

“All the more reason to follow me,” he grinned, coming to a stop further down the beach. “Now,” Juyeon said, gently taking you by the shoulders to stand in front of him. “Look at this,” he pointed up, and you followed his finger until you saw a small cluster of golden lights leisurely twirling through the air.

Realisation struck you and you gasped audibly. “Oh my god,” you exclaimed. “Are those fireflies?”

Said fireflies were floating about the sky, some above you and some lower at the water, exploring their surroundings. “You ever seen those before?” you shook your head at Juyeon’s question. “They usually like to be in marshy, forest areas. But the other night I saw them close to here, exploring the shore.”

“This is incredible,” you admitted, eyes following the small glowing insects as they soar. “What makes them glow?” you asked, feeling Juyeon’s chest against your back as he inched closer.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s the same reason you and I are here right now,” you turn your head to look at Juyeon, curious. He was already smiling, as if he knew something that you didn’t. “Chemistry,” he whispered, making you laugh.

“That was cheesy.”

“Maybe so, but it’s true, isn’t it?”

You nod. “I suppose so,” you manage to agree.

Juyeon smiles. “Do you think I could kiss you?”

“I definitely think you should.”

When he kissed you, your eyes closed and you saw little dots of gold on the inside of your eyelids, perfectly mimicking the glow of the fireflies surrounding the both of you.

After your kiss with Juyeon, he seemed to be appearing everywhere you looked. At the pool when he was on duty, at the bar you and your friend were snacking at during his breaks, the beach during the sunset, and the dining hall for dinner. Your friend was pleased that you were finding something – or rather, someone – to entertain and soothe you after the difficult year you had at University.

Before you exited the pool for the day, Juyeon leaned down to whisper in your ear: “Meet me at the gate at midnight,” without any further explanation. Excited to spend more time with him, you easily nodded in agreement and left to tell your friend about your evening plans.

When the time came, you made your way down to the pool’s gate to meet Juyeon, finding it locked since the pool closed before sundown. As Juyeon approached you in a pair of board shorts and a t-shirt, waving a key in the air with an excited glint in his eyes, you quickly figured out what his plans for your night were. “Are you up for a midnight swim?” Juyeon wondered, greeting you with a hug. The small act of affection made an unavoidable and automatic smile appear on your lips.

“I’m up for anything,” you replied, winding your arms around his waist and leaning back enough to smile at Juyeon. “As long as you don’t get into trouble for it?” you added, eyeing the thick metal lock on the pool gates.

“I won’t get in trouble if we don’t get caught,” he retorted with a small wink, lifting his hand to gently stroke your cheek with his thumb. This was something you liked a lot about being with Juyeon: everything always felt easy and relaxed. “I’ve never gone for a midnight dip before, and I figure a lit-up pool is safer than the ocean.”

“Ah yes,” you laughed. “Safety first. How could I forget that I’m amidst Lee Juyeon, lifeguard extraordinaire.”

Juyeon burst out laughing at your words, eyes crinkling with his widened grin. He gave a shy smile when he was done, opening the gate to the pool for you and allowing you to enter first. Slightly excited at the idea of sneaking around with Juyeon, you made your way towards the pool, closely followed by Juyeon.

As you and Juyeon started undressing down to your bathing suits, you eyed the empty lifeguard chair that he usually occupied. “You’re pretty distracting up there on your little chair, you know?” you admitted, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Me?” Juyeon exclaimed, pausing while attempting to take off his t-shirt. “I’m the one that has to work and pretend that I’m not sneaking glances at you every minute because you’re so captivating,” he argued, shaking his head in disbelief.

You snuck a quick look at his torso, half exposed from where he was paused. “You’re clueless,” you accused with a sigh, not understanding how Juyeon couldn’t understand how attractive he was. “Now hurry up, I want to swim,” you added with a slight whine.

At your encouragement, the two of you had soon made your way into the lukewarm water of the pool, gently splashing each other in a playful manner. Rather than swimming laps or diving in the water, you and Juyeon decided to stand in the water next to each other and see how the water trickled from your hands to his, underneath yours.

Although the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, you still wished to know more about the boy in front of you. “What’s your biggest fear?” you wondered, watching how little droplets of water sliding down the side of your palm fell into Juyeon’s larger palm.

Each time your fingertips brushed against his palm, tingles shot from the very tips of your fingers down to your toes. Warmth spread throughout your body. You always felt warm when you were with Juyeon.

Juyeon made a quiet sound akin to a chuckle, but thought about his answer. “Heartbreak,” he told you. You paused playing with the water to observe his expression. Usually, his eyes smiled whenever you looked at him. Now, his eyes seemed to be lost in something else.

“Funny,” you said. “That’s mine, too.”

The realisation that whatever the two of you were doing – be it dating casually or just having an exciting summer fling – might end in both of your biggest fear put a temporary stop to the careless relaxation you had been experiencing up until that point.

“I guess we just won’t break each other’s hearts,” Juyeon said it so simply that you believed him. 

Believed that you could have nothing but a small, summer fling with Juyeon. That maybe you wouldn’t fall for the kind-eyed man in front of you, and that your summer wouldn’t end in heartbreak.

So you smiled back at him and agreed.

Silently, you and Juyeon agreed to keep things fun and casual that summer. You had in depth conversations about your hopes and dreams for your futures; the lives you intended to live after your education was over. However, you never told one another things about your everyday lives that could make you get attached to one another. You didn’t speak about where you lived, your daily schedule, or what you looked for in a partner.

Lying beside Juyeon, your thighs brushing his and hands intertwined on his chest, felt comfortable; familiar. The night was still fairly warm out despite it being well past midnight, and the two of you had decided to lie down by the beach and admire the night sky.

The stars were so bright that evening, glowing and shimmering as if they had come out just so you could admire them. The glow they released felt like little fireflies hung up in the sky, as though you could reach out and touch them.

“I don’t know,” you answered Juyeon’s question about what you wanted to do as a career. Your tone caused Juyeon to turn his head to face you. His hair was still damp, and it fell flat against his forehead in a short fringe. You angled your body to face his, raising your hand to run your fingers through his hair. The intimate action didn’t seem to bother Juyeon, and you tried to ignore the way it made your stomach swirl. “I’m always scared to think about it. I just finished my third year of Uni, and I still have no idea what I want to do.”

“You have all the options in the world open to you,” Juyeon rephrased your troubles lightly. “All you have to do is reach out and take them.” he paused, closing his eyes to relish in the feeling of your hands in his hair. “I know what I want to do.”

“Yeah?” you asked, tightening Juyeon’s zip-up hoodie around your frame as the breeze blew stronger; the sound of waves crashing against the shore music to your ears. “What’s that?”

“I want to be a dancer,” Juyeon said. “I want to perform for others and tell a story. I want to sweat and bleed and hurt for it. Because I want to be perfect,” he chuckled. “I guess that’s my fatal flaw. Perfectionism.”

“Perfectionism is hardly fatal,” you disagreed. “Then go out there. Hurt and bleed and do it.”

“I wish it were that easy,” Juyeon muttered, pulling you gently against him. The moderate rhythm of his heart beat tenderly against your ear. “I just don’t know how to tell my parents. They still think I’m majoring in Economics. Guess I have one more year to tell them,” somehow, his statement managed to make the both of you laugh.

You mentally noted that you were in the same year of University, something personal that the both of you had agreed not to talk about. It would be foolish to get your hopes up about Juyeon wanting something serious with you; you forced yourself to let go of the idea altogether.

After all, you were scared of heartbreak too.

“Why is it so easy to talk to you?” Juyeon marvelled. “When I’m with my friends, I always feel like I never have a clue about anything. They’re always faster, wittier, and smarter than me. But with you, I feel like I can take my time.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you pondered on how to respond. Not only had Juyeon captured exactly how you felt around him, but he had made a statement so personal that you couldn’t ignore it.

“You can take your time,” you decided to say. “We have all summer long.”

As the summer was coming to an end, you were already dreading having to say goodbye to Juyeon. He introduced you to his friends throughout the summer, too. Jacob and Kevin from the bonfire, and Hyunjae the bartender from the hotel bar. You understood what Juyeon meant about feeling slow; his friends were balls of energy and quick-wit. You had spent every night with him, walking the beach, exploring the island, and forgetting any of your troubles. The next day, you would always bring your friend to the places you had adventured through the night before; recounting your escapades with Juyeon and admiring how different things looked in the light.

“You really like this guy,” your friend realised immediately. “And not just in a hot lifeguard way.”

You smiled sadly. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I don’t want to say goodbye to him.” The view of the beach during the day with the sun shining wasn’t the same as the way the beach appeared at night. You almost wanted it to be dark every time you went to the ocean.

Your friend smiled. “Maybe you don’t have to? Long distance relationships can work out, too.”

“He doesn’t want to be in a relationship,” you denied.

With a small shake of their head, your friend asked “How do you know that?”

“Because he’s afraid of heartbreak,” you looked out into the sea, observing the families and couples playing in the water together and laughing.

“I’ve heard that before,” your friend recalled all the times you used that as an excuse during the semester. “You know, I love heartbreak.” With wide eyes, you faced your friend to listen to their reasoning. “If I get heartbroken, at least it means I felt something.”

“Well, yes,” you allowed. “But why would you want to put yourself and your feelings out in the world, only to have them broken and exploited?”

“Who cares?” your friend said. “Who cares if my feelings get broken and exploited? How am I ever going to feel anything – love, happiness, admiration – if I’m so scared of being hurt that I never let myself feel it to begin with?”

You knew your friend was right. The more you got to know Juyeon, the more you knew that no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to prevent yourself from feeling an emotion you truly felt.

“I know that,” you confessed in a mumble. “That doesn’t mean that he feels the same.”

“Maybe you should try asking him?” your friend proposed. “Maybe he’ll surprise you. And maybe you should do it today, before we have to leave this afternoon,” they added, patting you gently on the shoulder and giving you their best encouraging smile.

You had already told Juyeon that you were leaving that day. He had mentioned that he had a shift at the pool in the early afternoon, but he promised that he would get away and say his goodbyes to you.

Perhaps you were holding on to his promise a little too tightly. That was why you felt so destroyed when Juyeon never showed, and you had to get the taxi on the way to the airport so you wouldn’t miss your flight.

“Are you okay?” your friend asked, sympathetic to your feelings.

“I’m okay,” you said. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so scared of being heartbroken. It seems like I have no control over that, anyway.”

When autumn came, you welcomed the cold.

The cold meant that you no longer had to think about Juyeon. Autumn in Seoul meant the leaves falling in magnificent shades of burnt orange and yellow, and it also meant going back to University for your final year of your degree. When school started again, you were thankful for the distraction. The more specialised and specific your classes became, the better idea you got of what you wanted to do with your degree in the future.

Coming out of a counselling session with your career counsellor, you felt confident with the options the two of you had come up with for careers to look in to. “I’ll be at the café soon,” you told your friend over the phone, almost rolling your eyes at their excitement over it being Friday. “Yes I promise. No more than ten minutes. Yes, I swear.”

As you hung up the phone, you hardly noticed someone in a black coat walking by you. “I’m so sorry!” the man exclaimed, picking up your dropped phone and handing it over to you. “I hope nothing happened to it,” he said.

You examined your phone, discovering that the screen wasn’t cracked and seemed to be functioning just find. “Don’t even worry about it,” you assured the man, glancing up at his bespectacled face. You paused. “I’m sorry, are you Jacob?” you asked him, vaguely recognising his face.

The man chuckled. “Kevin, actually,” he corrected. “It’s Y/n, right?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m not so great with names. Not that I was really trying to remember this summer, anyway,” you added awkwardly.

Kevin hummed. “Do you go to school here?”

“I do,” you nodded.

“Me too,” Kevin smiled.

Your eyes widened. “You go to school with Juyeon, though,” you recalled. “That means…”

“He goes here too,” Kevin finished for you. He studied your expression. “You should really talk to him. I think that a few things got mixed up between you guys and I’d hate for you to keep thinking poorly of my friend.”

Talking to Juyeon again just when you were getting over thinking of him didn’t seem like the wisest idea to you. And yet, “Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll meet him.”

It seemed almost too ironic that Juyeon was waiting for Kevin in the same café your friend was waiting in. When you saw the two sitting together, you realised why your friend was so desperate to get you to the café quickly. Sneaky.

“Hey,” you greeted Juyeon, taking a seat opposite him as your friend and Kevin gave you some privacy.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t meet you,” Juyeon apologised. “I know this sounds ridiculous but I got fired for breaking into the pool at night.”

You hadn’t been expecting that. “What?”

“The manager saw that someone had been breaking into the pool after hours. It seemed that he hadn’t gotten the keys on the nights where I locked up, so he pretty quickly figured out who it was,” Juyeon was sheepish to admit. “They escorted me out of the hotel so I couldn’t stay to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you call?” you wondered.

Juyeon smirked. “It’s not like we exchanged numbers,” he argued.

“That stupid not falling in love and not getting heartbroken bullshit,” you sighed.

Juyeon rose an eyebrow. “You think it’s bullshit too?” he asked. “Glad to hear it. I was getting pretty sick of it by the end of the summer too.”

“Tell me about it,” you grinned. “So, we go to the same University,” you stated the obvious.

“Looks like it,” Juyeon grinned back at you. “I don’t know. It almost seems like it’s fate or something.”

You snorted. “Fate? Three months ago you refused to fall in love, and now you believe in fate?”

“People change,” Juyeon defended himself. “Especially when they meet someone worth changing for.”

You rose an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh really?”

Juyeon leaned forward. “Go on a date with me,” he requested. You merely smiled disbelievingly at him. “Seriously,” Juyeon insisted, eyes slightly narrowed with focus. “I’ve had three months to get to know you and I’ve been missing you for two more. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Your stomach fluttered with butterflies. You didn’t have to think about your answer for even one second. You were already head over heels for him. “And if we get heartbroken?” you asked quietly.

Juyeon cocked his head to the side, his familiar eye-smile appearing as he realised you felt the same as him. “Then at least I know that I loved you.”

note: this took me so long to write i’ve been working on it for a whole month. i hope you enjoyed it!!

updated note: guys i wrote this fic a year before thrill ride came out i basically predicted the future lmaooo

[raymondebidochonlifechoices]

All fans are equal but some are more equal than others. NOT.

There’s been quite a few people in the fandom lately getting very stressed, feeling they’re obligated to constantly be on the defensive re: their fandom choices.

Apparently, whoever has a different opinion about a character or a ship must be said character’s/ship’s stan i.e. overzealous and/or obsessive, i.e. not an objective viewer. Even worse, they must be a dreadful person, who condones a number of moral offences that said character/ship perpetrated (or is thought to have perpetrated). Because, of course, the only acceptable reason for appreciating/enjoying a fictional character or dynamic is their morality. And, by that reasoning, fans who support the correct character/ship must be better fans and better people.

Nothing is more ridiculous than the notion of the objective fan. An “objective” fan is called a “viewer”. You and I, Riverdale friends, we are not just viewers. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have created blogs and dedicated hours of our lives to a fictional couple from an extremely mediocre show. We are still undoubtedly capable of critical thought and objective analysis but we are also aware of our own emotional investment in the show. (Or, at least, one hopes). As a fandom, we engage in activities that exist independently of the show. Fandom is a space of free expression. No one gets to play the higher moral card here. Needing to loudly tell everybody how wrong they are? That’s not the sign of an objective viewer. That’s the sign of a viewer who is also extremely invested, just for different reasons than I am.

Are we seriously holding the morality card over people’s heads for a show that used a poc woman’s pregnancy (Toni) as the means to retroactively establish trauma for a white male (Kevin), all the while touting it in every media possible as a woke response to the BLM movement?!

Are we seriously holding the canon card over people’s heads for a show that treats its 5th(!) season as a tabula rasa?! If the Lodges new backstory in 5x12 shows anything, it’s that s5 is not a time-jump. It’s a reboot.

There are so many people “enlightening” others on their inability to understand canon …

Seriously? That’s the hill you’re willing to die on? Canon Riverdale? You think that people don’t understand what they’re watching? That they’re interpreting canon incorrectly?

No, but seriously: canon for a TV show consists of what the characters say, what the characters do and how the actors portray them. Does this really apply to Riverdale?

Let’s take Donna for example.

Canon explicitly tells us Donna did what she did to avenge her grandmother. At the same time none of her canon actions were against the people who were actually responsible. So, riddle me this, fandom friends: why did Donna do what she did, as per canon?

Let’s try this another way:

Donna is a psycho bitch. Both in terms of Riverdale’s canon (the writers’ intention) and real-life criteria. To create a tag that reads “Bonna for ever uwu!” is deranged.

On the other hand, her character is (like a lot of Riverdale’s characters) an inconsistent caricature. Canon uses ridiculous dialogue and a lot of the Bonna scenes are cartoonishly enemies-to-lovers tropey. To create a tag that reads “Bonna for ever uwu!” is hilarious.

This doesn’t mean that Bonna is a canon couple. It does mean, however, that a Bonna crackship is based on Riverdale’s campy and over-the-top canonic writing.

A viewer who thinks Bonna is disgusting is not more “objective” or more “correct” or more “true to canon” than a viewer who thinks Bonna is funny. Nor are they a better person for it, and this cannot be stressed enough.

Similarly, who is canon Cheryl?

1. Cheryl is an absolute bitch: if a privileged student was calling an actual homeless boy a hobo in your real-life school, you would neither think her a queen nor use “hobo” affectionately in your tags, comments etc.

2. Cheryl is a deeply traumatized person: her father killed her brother, her mother killed half the town and forced her in conversion therapy, she attempted suicide and more.

(Note #1: this more does not mean more than the other Riverdale characters).

(Note #2: nor is it an excuse for her rudeness, affectionately called “mood for chaos” by the writers).

3. Cheryl is also a caricature of the archetypal mean girl who’s there for laughs and meta comments. She’s not to be taken seriously.

4. Cheryl is lgbtq+ representation …

5. … who canonically shits on other lgbtq+ characters.

6. Cheryl is one half of Choni, who are canonically presented as an uber couple.

7. Choni is also, as per canon, a couple with an acute power imbalance (cough!gaslighting!cough) that visually very clearly panders to the male gaze.

But most importantly:

8. Cheryl canonically is not the sum of her parts. The different facets of her character do not intermingle in any meaningful way.

Was Betty kissing Archie specifically a sore spot for Jughead?

Canonically no [2x14]. But, also, canonically yes [5x03, 5x10].

Are there seriously fans that are astonished that Betty is making some highly questionable choices while investigating?! Did they just discover Dark™Betty/Killer Genes Betty? That is canon Betty! Was it ok before because she was then smooching Jughead instead of giving him the cold shoulder? Honestly, the only newly outrageous part of s5Dark™Betty is the fact that she still believes in “killer genes” despite having spent 4 years at Yale …

As for liking/disliking Betty and morality …

Look, I’m going to be very honest: I am NOT particularly enjoying s5 Betty. And it’s not because of b*rchie.

S5 Betty has 99 problems but the sexcapades ain’t one.

For me, it’s the fact that she’s turned into s1 Alice 2.0. But surely that’s not news either? Ever since the first info about the time jump, everyone and their mother have been speculating about the teens becoming their parents …

Just because Jughead is better written (and written to be more likable), it doesn’t make him more worthy of redemption. Just because the writers are keeping Betty’s redemption “secret” (insert eye roll) for their big reveal in the season’s penultimate episode, it doesn’t mean she won’t have one.  

Simply put, the writers have made Jughead more likable. He’s still the underdog. He’s the only character in Riverdale actively trying to deal with his trauma, since the very first post-time jump episode (working at Pop’s explicitly to fend off the debt collectors). He has scenes with a new and extremely likable character (Tabitha). He has the only new plot line (the Mothman). Said plotline is narratively already tied to both his unknown past and the town’s destruction by Hiram. His behaviour is explicitly explained, even as his recent trauma remains unknown. He’s transparent.

In comparison, s5 Betty is traumatized but not the underdog. Her trauma (TBK killer) is both known to us and a repetition of previous storylines, which makes it narratively less exciting. She is completely disconnected from any other storylines. She comes out as being judgmental and self-interested: telling Tabitha Jughead’s not her business while previously accepting his help? Berating Polly for lying while not keeping in touch and lying about her own life (TBK)? Please note: I’m not saying there isn’t a reason behind her behaviour, just that it comes out in a negative way.

You don’t like Betty’s current behaviour? You don’t consider trauma a good enough excuse? Cool.

You feel sorry for what she’s going through? You consider trauma to be a valid explanation for her behaviour? Also cool.

Personally, I don’t give a flying fig, either for Betty’s trauma or Jughead’s. Because, even though Trauma™ is s5’s actual mystery plot, narratively speaking, trauma never affected the plot of the past 4 seasons, nor s5 trauma will affect future plots, once revealed. And you know what? That is also cool.

None of the above is better.

And just because I’m not enjoying Betty right now, it doesn’t mean that I don’t want her to overcome her current situation or that I won’t cheer for Bughead like a River Vixen on fizzle rocks, once they reunite.

This thing though, where people are made to feel as if they owed anyone in the fandom an explanation about why they like the things they like, because, somehow, their preferences are a reflection on their character or their cognitive abilities to read a TV show? This is a joke.

There is no “wrong” way to consume any show, let alone Riverdale, with its fractured format, its short-term memory and its see-sawing characters.

Look, everybody’s here for their own reasons. For most people this is a place of escape. No one’s escaping better than the other, because of how they enjoy their teen TV show ... 

[wavesmp3]

before sunrise

kevin moon x reader   - strangers to lovers au, fluff  - based off the movie before sunrise   - wc. 9.4k   - warnings: mentions of alcohol, lots of dialogue, cursing, and a few attempts at comedy

synopsis → You and Kevin Moon only have one night together before his flight leaves the next morning. And before meeting Kevin, you never would’ve believed that one night is long enough to fall in love with someone.

The train rattles on and on, a blur of colors painted beyond the small window you rest your head against. A headache is forming, between your ears and behind your eyes, a small thrumming that’ll make the rest of this train ride unbearable if you don’t end whatever’s causing it. Except you don’t know whether to blame the rattling train or the lovers' quarrel from the couple sitting across from you. 

You make another attempt to ignore the rattling and the arguing, holding your book closer to your face and starting the same paragraph you’ve been on since boarding the train. The effort does little to help on either account. You sigh, loudly, in the hopes that your annoyance stings the ears of the couple next to you. It does not. So you get up, gather your things, and move further down the car. 

You settle into a new seat, the couple’s argument still audible but less intruding than it had been when you were sitting right beside them. You open your book to restart the same paragraph when someone interrupts you. Again. 

“Hey, do you have any idea what those two are fighting about?” 

You look up from between the pages, lifting your eyes to meet those of the person who spoke to you without lowering the book itself. You stare at him, taken aback almost, by asymmetry of the smile he’s directed towards you and how charmed you are by it. You swallow. 

“Oh, sorry,” his body caves inwards, scratching a spot behind his neck, “do you speak English?”

You nod, too eagerly. “Yeah, no, I speak English. Just no clue what they’re arguing about.” You lower the book, folding in the page you’ve yet to move on from and leaning forward in your seat, just enough to catch sight of the couple whose voices get louder with each passing moment. “My German is not very good.”

“Ah,” the boy mutters, his pitch-black hair falling in front of his eyes, “that’s what that is.” He turns back to you, looks at you expectantly almost, then awkwardly laughs sitting back in his chair. He gestures to your book. “I’ll let you get back to it. Sorry to bother.”

And you’re about to tell him it’s fine, that you don’t mind the small talk, when you notice the book laying in his lap and the finger he has shoved between the pages to mark his spot. And the words sort of fall back down your throat once you do. 

You return to your book, not even bothering to start the paragraph for what feels like the thousandth time. Instead, you stare at the printed page, passively listening to the heated German flying between the couple and thinking about the boy sitting across the aisle from you. 

The couple stands up suddenly, dramatic enough to make half the car look up at them. One of them makes their way down the aisle in your direction, walking hurriedly and shrugging off the hand their partner places on their arm, as if they could not get way fast enough. You look towards the boy across from you with a raised brow. He makes a face at you, lifting his shoulders and shaking his head. You bite back a laugh, eyes following the couple as they exit the car. The sliding door opens with a whoosh and closes, their absence swallowing the car in silence.  

“What are you reading?” The guy asks, pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose. 

You hold up the cover of your book for him to see. “You?” 

He looks down at his lap, pursing his lips and chuckling a bit, hesitating, as if he wasn’t expecting you to return the question. He holds up the book. 

“Series of unfortunate events?” You murmur, recognizing the cover. 

“In my defense, I’m rereading it.” 

“No judgement.” You tell him, lifting up your hands in surrender. “I read it when I was young as well.” 

“It’s a good series, right?” You nod. “Thank you.” He huffs, resting his back against the train seat. 

“Although, I’m not sure if it’s good enough to reread. Not sure I get why people reread anything, actually. I mean there are so many books out there, why bother rereading one you’ve already read?” 

He shrugs at that, tilting his head and gaze fixed on the book. “Nostalgia, I guess.” 

You accept the answer with a nod. The couple returns then, and the clamor of their argument returns with them. You both watch as they pass by your seats. 

“Hey,” the guy begins again, sitting up in his seat and shifting his body until he’s in the aisle seat instead of the one by the window, “I was thinking of going to the lounge car. Would you wanna come with?” 

“Yeah, sure.” You lean towards him. “Why not?”

— 

“I’m Kevin Moon by the way.” He says once you’re both seated, extending his hand. You take it; give him your name. And there’s a draft that runs through the lounge car when he repeats it to himself. “So are you coming from Copenhagen too?” 

“Yeah, I was visiting some family there?” 

He nods. “And how are they?” 

You laugh, giggle really, awkwardly despite the faux intimacy of his question. Nodding, you answer: “They’re great. Well—great is a bit much. Content, perhaps?” 

“Content sounds good.” 

“So where are you getting off?” 

“Amsterdam.” 

“What’s in Amsterdam?” 

“No clue.” You laugh at the response, or maybe it’s at the quirk of his brow and the nervous tapping against his knee. “I have a flight out of there tomorrow morning. So I was thinking I’d explore the city some, attempt to experience all of Amsterdam in one night.” 

“Yeah, and where are you flying to?” 

“Back home.”

“Let me guess,” you start, a teasing lilt in your voice, “America?” 

“Canada, actually.” He proudly corrects. “Where are you from?” 

“All over.” You gesture around vaguely. “Moved around a lot growing up. And now I’m in Paris.” 

“Is that where you’re getting off?” He asks, leaning forward. You nod. “Why Paris?” 

“University.” 

“Oh,” he looks shocked, “which one?” 

“Would you even know it if I said?” 

His mouth parts, eyes darting around somewhere above your head. “Yeah, probably not.” 

“What about you?” You ask once your laughter has died down. “Still in school?” 

He’s quick to shake his head. “Gosh, no. School was never really for me.”

“Why not?” 

“I-“ he falters, tilting his head back at the question, “well, why are you still in school?” 

“No real reason.” You plan to leave it at that, but when you look up at him, keenly waiting for you to continue, some part of you wants to elaborate on it as well. “Sort of like I’m not sure what I’d do with myself once I finish.” 

“I feel that.” 

“You feel that?” You echo, a laugh dancing under the question. 

“Yeah.” He answers sincerely, eyes fixated on you and surprisingly serious. “I do.” 

“Oh,” you blurt, taken aback by how genuinely he means it.

The waiter appears then, handing you menus and taking your orders after. 

“So of all the places you’ve lived, which one felt the most like home?” 

You think over the question, tongue poking at the inside of your cheek. “Maybe Copenhagen. I have the most family there.” You add as a half-hearted explanation. “But I don’t know, I guess no place has felt much like home yet.” 

“Not even Paris?” 

You shake your head. “There’s this quote that goes: what is a home if not the first place you learn to run from.”

“So is that what Paris is?” He asks, resting his head against his hand. “The place you ran to?” 

You shrug. “Something like that.” 

There’s a beat of silence, somehow you spend the entirety of it starting at Kevin. “You seem to be very well read.” He says finally, looking away first and folding a napkin over his lap. 

“It’s just one quote.” 

“One more than me.”  

“Maybe if you stopped rereading ‘the series of unfortunate events’, we’d be on even footing.” 

He gasps. “You said ‘no judgement’.” 

“It’s called being polite.” He shakes his head disapprovingly. “So how about you? Were you just visiting Copenhagen, or…?” 

“No, I’ve done the whole tour. Started in Madrid, hit Paris, Rome, Vienna, Budapest, Berlin, London, Athens, Prague, Florence, Lisbon… you know, all the big ones.” 

“I hope not in that order.” 

He laughs brightly. “No, not in that order. Thanks for the vote of confidence though.” 

“Of course.” 

“But, yeah, I bought the Eurail Pass a while back and decided I would see as much as I could.” 

“How long have you been here?” 

“About a month and a half now.” 

“Wow. And just for a holiday or?” 

“Yeah, well,” his face turns down, a cloud passing across the sun and casting a shadow over the table, “I had a friend in Madrid, but, uh, mainly—yeah, mainly vacation.” 

You don’t prod any further, nodding at his half-baked answer. 

“But what I’ve come to realize,” he continues on, “during these past few weeks, is that there’s something special about just sitting on a train and staring out the window.” 

“What’s special about it?” 

“For starters,” he gestures to the rolling green hills outside the window, “it’s beautiful. But also, I get these ideas while sitting here.” 

“What sorts of ideas?” 

“Like,” he hesitates, leaning back towards you, “well it’s gonna sound dumb to say outloud.” 

You watch him carefully. The asymmetrical smile that you first noticed appearing on his lips again. And maybe that’s what makes you lean towards him and say, 

“Try me.” 

— 

“Hey,” you push away your now empty plate and tap on the window as the train rolls to a stop, “isn’t this Amsterdam?” 

“Oh yeah,” Kevin checks his watch, “it is. I guess I lost track of time sitting here.” You check the time yourself and realize it’s been over two hours.

“Well for what it’s worth, I really enjoyed talking with you,” you tell him, shifting in the seat. 

He returns the sentiment, and you both continue to go back and forth until the train does actually stop, a loud whistle traveling through the lounge car.  

“Well, this is me.” He says softly, sucking in his bottom lip. 

You extend out your hand. “Nice to meet you, Kevin Moon.”

He shakes it. “Nice to meet you too.”

You watch him go, lugging a duffle bag by his hip and pulling a pink beanie over his hair. And once the door to the lounge car closes swiftly behind him, you slump into the chair resting your head against the window and scanning the group of people on the platform outside of it. Maybe, you think to yourself, I’ll catch him leaving.

“Okay, I have a crazy idea.”

You jump at the sound of his breathless voice, jolting up in your seat. “Kevin, what are yo—”

“Blow off Paris for one more night.”

“What?”

“Just—like I know this is crazy—but just listen for a second.” He tosses his duffle bag into the seat that was occupied by him a minute ago and places both his hands on the table, leaning down slightly. An action that leaves no room for you to think he’s joking. “My flight only leaves tomorrow morning, and I was planning on wasting time in Amsterdam until then. So come with me, let’s hang out for the night, and you can catch the first train back to Paris. I haven’t had a conversation like the one we just had in so long, and I don’t really want to say bye yet. So, let’s just see where this goes. And if it sucks or if you realize you hate me, then you leave, and we part ways just like that. No strings, no obligations.” He pauses there, chewing on his bottom lip and fingers curling around the edge of the table.

And for some reason, after his whole speech, you find yourself thinking about the arguing couple from the other car.

You grab your things. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Come on,” a grin fights its way onto your face, excitement teetering in every part of your body, “let’s go.”

And some small of part of you that’s hanging onto reason knows this is a terrible idea, a reckless and stupid idea that you would chide the protagonist of a horror movie for. But another part of you, the same part that can’t get over Kevin’s asymmetrical smile and the same part that said yes when he asked if you wanted to go to the lounge car, is too enthralled with the idea of continuing whatever this is to say no.

So this time when Kevin leaves, you don’t watch him go; instead, you follow him off of the train.

—

You’ve been to Amsterdam before, once on a holiday with your family that you can barely remember and again on a school trip when you were much younger. But despite the two times you’ve been to this city, walking beside the street and admiring the brightly painted buildings with Kevin feels like a first.  

And after seven minutes of mindlessly walking around Amsterdam with a complete stranger, the reality of your earlier choice strikes you like a burst of wind across the cheek. The exhilaration that compelled you to get off the train withering away with each step. Not a word has passed between either of you since agreeing to Kevin’s plan.

“This is,” you start, voice hoarse and hiding a shy laugh behind your palm. “This is weird.”

“No, yeah, it’s awkward, right?” Kevin smiles, scratching a part of his neck. “Do you…” he shoves his fists into the pockets of his coat, “do you regret getting off the train with me?” He laughs after he asks the question, as if he’s embarrassed to even bring it up.

“No,” you tell him honestly, scuffing your shoes against the pavement and avoiding looking at him. “Not yet.”

In a corner of your vision, you see him nod, then smile. The asymmetrical one that first caught your attention. And in that moment, a tiny spark of exhilaration returns.

—

You and Kevin find yourselves in an art museum. The first activity you could find to fill in all the awkward silences. You take turns acting as guides explaining the curation of each piece of art. A suggestion that you had made and then come to regret when Kevin tries to argue that a modern sculpture of sunflowers is actually just the Shrek movies reimagined.

“And see that part,” he says animatedly, pointing at a corner of the piece, “is actually depicting that once scene in the beginning of Shrek 2 when—”

You just laugh, shoving his arm playfully and wandering on to the next piece.

“Hey,” Kevin calls from further along the wall, “come look at this one.”

“So, what is this one about?” You tease, meeting him beside the art piece. “Ice Age or Monsters Inc?”

“No bullshit explanation this time, actually.” He mumbles, eyes trained on the art still. “I really like this one.”

You take a moment to study the painting, done by an impressionist artist according to the blurb beside it. The piece depicts a whole bunch of couples dancing on a street.

“I like how the background is all a blur.” Kevin says. “As if each of the couples are so occupied with themselves that everything else sort of fades.”

“I think my favorite part,” you start, taking a step towards the painting, “is how the girl in this pair and the guy in this one are painted like their fading. Makes me feel like they aren’t real; like they’re a dream or a memory.”

“Or a ghost.” 

“Yeah,” you smile at the thought, “or a ghost.”

Kevin leans down to read about the piece. “It’s called ‘Lovers Embrace’” 

“I like it.” You declare, thinking over how fitting the title is.

He straightens back up, smiling. “Me too.”

—

The art museum is effective in easing the awkwardness between you and Kevin, acting as a distraction from the insanity of the current circumstances and your belated recognition of it, so that now, while meandering about a record shop he found, conversation flows as easily as it did in the lounge car. And when you realize that, another bit of your exhilaration returns, bursting within your chest and fluttering against your gut.

“I have an idea.” Kevin announces as you finger through a section of records.

“Another one?” You deadpan. 

He flicks your arm, continuing, “We both pick a record to listen to. And then a random, third one for good measure.”

“How are we picking the third one?”

He hums in thought, drumming his fingers against the shelf. “Okay, I got it. Close your eyes.”

You point a finger at yourself. “Me?”

He squints at you, dramatically looking side to side and bringing the emptiness of this portion of the store to your attention. “Who else?”

“Fine but--”

“Just close them.”

With a long sigh, you do.

“Okay,” Kevin murmurs, spinning you around by the shoulders. He jerks you to a stop. “Now choose a record.” You push your hand out, feeling around for the nearest rack of records. “No, that’s boring.” He complains. “You have to walk around a little bit.”

“You know, we could’ve avoided this if you just chose the random record instead of me.” You huff at him, slowly walking around with your eyes still closed as per Kevin’s request.

“Watch out,” he warns, ignoring your comment, “you’re about to hit a stand.”

Eventually, you walk far enough from the place you started at. Blindly reaching out to the rack, you chose a record that feels the most worn around the edges. You open your eyes, blinking, and are about to read the cover when Kevin stops you suggesting you both wait until you’re in the listening booth. You agree, parting ways to pick your own record to listen to.

After a few minutes of browsing the store, you meet with Kevin outside of the listening booth, two records under your arm.

“Play yours first.” Kevin says, stepping into the booth with you. You pull the record out of its sleeve and place it in position. 

Moon river, wider than a mile

“Ah,” he sighs, as the song begins to play, “I love this song.”

I’m crossing you in style someday

You swallow back a smile and mutter a small ‘me too’.

Wherever you’re going, I’m going your way. Two drifters off to see the world

“Kind of fitting, isn’t it?” He asks, laughing lightly and knocking his head back against the wall of the booth.

“Part of the reason I chose it.” You explain, turning your head towards him just in time to catch his eyes fluttering shut. An action that sends a familiar burst of exhilaration running heavily over your chest. He looks at peace like this, you think, his gold frames resting on the middle of his nose and a tuft of black hair slipping out from under his beanie. It’s only when the song ends, the repeated skipping of the needle replacing Sinatra’s voice, do you realize you’ve spent the entirety of it staring at Kevin. His eyes snap open at that moment; you’re quick to look away, busying yourself with the drawstring of your bag and ignoring the warmth that fills your body.

Kevin removes your record and fixes the one he chose in place. The song starts on a familiar chord. 

Kelly, can you handle this?

You shoot him a look, just barely holding your laughter in.

“I know. Totally different vibe from ‘Moon River’ but this is the only Beyoncé song I could find.”

I don’t think they can handle this.

You start singing along. Kevin joins, dancing along as well despite how small the booth is. And when he starts twerking, you spend the last two minutes of the song laughing in shock.

The song ends, after Kevin declares his love for Beyoncé. You hand the Destiny’s Child record back to Kevin and pull the final, random record out of its sleeve and set it in place.

“How’s your Italian?” Kevin asks, as you straighten back up waiting for the song to play.

“No better than my German. Why?” He flips the vinyl’s cover around to show you. “Il Mondo by Jimmy Fontana,” you mutter as the first note rings throughout the booth. 

No stanotte amore non ho più pensato a te

Kevin finds the translation online, scooting closer until the side of his arm is pressed against yours, phone tilted so that you can see. You lean in to better read the lyrics.

Gira, il mondo gira, nello spazio senza fine Turning, the world’s turning, in a space without end

Your eyes catch Kevin’s for the briefest of moments before he looks away, quickly refocusing his gaze on the opposite side of the booth.

Con gli amori appena nati, con gli amori già finiti With the lovers just now starting, with the lovers already parting

You don’t return to the lyrics, instead watching as his focus ping pongs between the phone screen and the wall.

Con la gioia e col dolore della gente come me With the joy and with the hurt of the people like me

His eyes flit over to your face. You look down, pretending to read the lyrics, swallowing.

Il mondo The world

And from a corner of your vision, you can see him watching you, can feel his eyes on you. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore how good it feels to know he’s staring. 

Soltanto adesso io ti guardo, nel tuo silenzio io mi perdo Just now I see you, in your silence I lose myself

There’s a jerk of movement from Kevin. But the second you angle your head towards him, he tilts his chin up, smiling at the ceiling and tongue running over his teeth. You stare at him and consider for a moment: tearing your eyes off him, turning your head down again, and pretending to read the lyrics. But as quickly as the thought comes, it passes. And you find it impossible to care that he knows you’re staring, figuring that it’d be just as impossible to make yourself look away.

E sono niente accanto a te I am nothing beside you

His chin falls at the line, dark brown eyes dancing around the room before landing on yours. And this time, you don’t look away. There’s a sharp inhale. A loud gulp. The slightest turn of your body and an even smaller glance at the curve of his lips. His fingers flex, knocking against your knuckles, lingering for too long to be accidental. And it’s like time stops at that moment, like all the clocks in the world cease to tick, making you and Kevin halt as well, standing still, unmoving, staring at each other as if you hadn’t spent the past minute avoiding each other’s eyes. 

And you swear, if the music hadn’t stopped, the scratching needle cutting into the air, you would’ve fell in love with Kevin right then. 

—

“A piano,” you point out as you and Kevin are about to leave from the record shop. You go to it, admiring the dark brown wood and fingers ghosting over the ivory keys.

“Do you know how to play?” Kevin joins you in the corner of the shop that houses the piano.

“Gosh, no.” You pause, your middle finger hovering over a black key and tilt your head towards him. “Do you?”

He nods, taking a seat on the bench and patting the spot beside him for you. He starts playing a song you don’t recognize but one that manages to sound vaguely familiar anyways. Like it was playing in the background of a movie you can no longer remember the name of, or like you met the song in a dream and memorized the melody in your sleep before waking up the next morning.

And maybe it’s because you know this song without having ever heard it before or maybe it’s because the chords have been sitting in your soul every night since that forgotten dream but something about the song and something about this moment, makes you scoot closer to Kevin and rest your head against his shoulder.

He stops, barely, for the tiniest of seconds, fingers hesitating above the next key, then continues a breath later. And sometime between the end of this song and the start of the next, you feel his head lean back against yours.

—

You and Kevin decide to get dinner after leaving the record shop, choosing the first place you can find to fill your empty stomachs.

“Let’s ask each other some questions.” You suggest while you’re waiting for the food to come out. “One to help us get to know each other better, and we have to answer one hundred percent honestly.” 

“Okay,” he nods, “I’ll start. Favorite color?”

“Green.”

“Gold.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Up.”

“Howl’s Moving Castle.” 

You both continue like that asking each other for even more favorites: favorite food, favorite show, favorite holiday, favorite city. Vancouver, Kevin had answered to which you scoffed complaining that choosing his hometown is cheating. He only shrugged. You move onto firsts after: first phone, first kiss, first childhood memory, first job, first celebrity crush. 

“You’re turn to ask.” You remind, hoping to quickly move on after confessing your childhood obsession with Chad Michael Murray. 

“Okay,” Kevin hums, contemplating a new question and twirling his drink around, “how about… first love?” 

“Oh, uh,” you scratch a spot on the table, “I’m not really sure I’ve ever been in love.” You pause there, expecting Kevin to say something. He does not. “Like I’ve dated before,” you sputter out quickly, filling in the empty space left by his nonexistent reply, “seriously, too. But I don’t think it was ever actually love.” 

His mouth parts, chest inflates slightly, as if the words need a minute to boil in the back of his throat. They must never come, you think when his mouth closes and his chest deflates, lips tightly shut. A silence crashes over the table, awkwardly taut. 

“What about you?” You return the question, cutting through the silence with what you hope is nonchalance. 

“Oh, me,” he chuckles sheepishly, “probably freshman year band. I fell so hard for this oboe player.” You give him a look at the confession, sucking in your bottom lip and biting back a laugh. His face twists with confusion. “What?” 

“I just can’t believe I got off a train with a band geek.” 

“Hey,” he defends, “better than a serial killer.” 

You shrug. “Not by much.” 

— 

It was Kevin’s idea to rent a boat to ride along the canal in. “The little foot pedaling ones,” he had requested, pointing them out. Luckily, you were able to find one before they shut down for the day. And the late timing of your activity made for a picturesque backdrop, the sun beginning to set as you drift along the canal, the sky immersed in varying hues of pink, yellow, and blue. Kevin had paused pedaling for a second to take a picture of the sunset which was fine until one picture turned into fifty. 

“You know when you said you wanted to boat along the canal I sort assumed you were gonna help me pedal.” 

“Last one.” He mumbles, the small shutter of his phone camera clicking before he shoves it back in his pocket and resumes pedaling with you. “More favorites?” He offers when the silence lingers for a little too long. 

“Please, no. I know way too much about you now.” He laughs at that. “New topic.” 

“Do you ever think about dying?” 

You whip your head towards him. “Morbid much?” 

“Yeah, I know, but seriously.” He says, brows lifted to further prove the sincerity of his question. “Do you?” 

You turn back to the front. “I mean I’m alive, so yeah, sometimes. You?” 

“Probably think about it too much if I’m being honest.” And there’s something that sounds distinctly like exhaustion in the way he says it. 

“Would you rather know how you die or when you die?” You ask suddenly. 

His answer comes just as quick. “When. Definitely when.” 

“Why?” 

“I feel like if I were to be told how I die, I’d spend the rest of my life avoiding it or trying to stop it. But there isn’t anything I can do to avoid the passing of time.” 

“Profound.” You mutter, unable to figure out if you’re surprised or shocked by how well-thought his answer sounds. 

“I told you,” he says, with a breathy laugh, “I think about death too much.” 

“What about a goal in life?” 

“What about it?” 

“Have one?” 

He considers the question, eyes trained on the water rippling in front of him. “To make a difference in someone’s life maybe.” He shrugs. “To be happy. I don’t know.” 

“Being happy used to be mine too.”

He frowns. “Used to?” 

“I used to be obsessed with this idea of happiness,” you tell him, nodding, “used to spend all my time avoiding whatever made me sad. But whenever I chased happiness, I was also the most dissatisfied with my life.” You stop for a second, check Kevin’s reaction, and find a frown still imprinted on his face. “I kinda see it like clouds now. They’re pretty from afar, but when they’re up close, we call it fog. Even when happiness was placed right in front of me, it never felt like enough. Most days, I’m still teaching myself that happiness is not a permanent state of being; it’s an emotion, and it comes and goes like the rest of them.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a while. Silently pedaling the boat along the canal. Then finally— 

“Damn, who’s the profound one now.” 

—

You and Kevin find yourself on a bridge that overlooks the canal after renting the foot pedaling boat. The sun is barely visible, taking its last dip in the horizon before disappearing altogether. You hold out your hand to hover in one of the last golden rays of light, shivering at the warmth. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time?”

“Running out of time for what?” 

“To experience life.” Kevin further explains, with a heavy exhale. “I feel like there’s this sick pressure and expectation created by romanticized coming-of-age movies that my youth is supposed to be the best years of my life. Like I should be living every second of it to the fullest. And then I end up spending all my time wondering how I’m going to live up to my youth instead of actually living it.”

“So, is that why you did it?” You pull your hand back in, tucking it under your chin. “Did you ask me to get off the train with you so that in ten years you can look back and feel like you made something of your youth, like you didn’t waste it.”

And something about the bluntness of your question must spread through the air and tug at the end of his lip. “Well, that’s a harsh way to put it, but,” he frowns, inhaling mid-sentence, “I don’t know. Maybe—yea, maybe it was part of the reason.” He pivots around, back pressed to the railing, elbows propped on the ledge, and face turned away from the last sliver of setting sun. You study his face: the point of his chin, slope of his nose, and high set of his cheekbones. He’s pretty. Too pretty, even. A realization that lands as heavily in the pit of your stomach as it did the first time you noticed on the train. And perhaps it’s just that: a realization. Or perhaps, more terrifyingly, it’s something closer to attraction. “Well, why’d you do it?” Kevin asks, turning his head slightly and catching you watching him, something you’ve both done too many times at this point to keep count of. “Why’d you get off the train with me?”

You swallow. “I thought about that couple from the first car. When you asked me to come with you, I thought of that arguing couple and saw my future flash before my eyes. I felt like I could see myself fifteen years from now. Could see myself falling in love, getting married, and somewhere along the way falling out. I could see myself sitting and fighting in the middle of a train. And a part of me just knew, that if I didn’t go with you, if I stayed on that train and continued to Paris, I’d spent the rest of my life regretting it, wondering what could’ve happened.”

You turn away from the sinking sun, swivel your head around to face Kevin again and find him differently than you had left him. Head tilted and biting at the inside of his cheek. Side pressed against the bridge’s railing so that he’s facing you directly. You straighten up, position yourself to face him as well, another asymmetrical smile growing on his face while you do.

“I’m really glad you decided to get off the train with me.”

You step closer, and when your hand knocks against his, he catches it, fingers curling around yours. “Me too.”

“Although, I do hope that if you’re married in fifteen years, it’s happily and that you’re one of those sickeningly in love with each other couple that everyone hates.”

He doesn’t look at you as he says it, watching your intertwined hands with a shy smile instead. And it’s somehow, oddly intimate when he squeezes your palm while wishing you a successful, hypothetical marriage. You feel suddenly breathless, and more prominently, fearless.

“I want you to kiss me.”

His eyes snap towards yours, pupils dilated and darker than normal. He doesn’t say anything.

You know he heard you, know—slightly less confidently—that he wants to kiss you as much as you want to be kissed. So you step towards him again, tugging at the end of his sleeve.

“Kevin.”

His gaze drops to your lips. “Yea.”

“Kiss me.”

And rationally, you know soulmates don’t exist. But there’s something about the way his lips fit perfectly against yours that almost makes you reconsider the belief.

—

“You know when I suggested we play pool, I really wasn’t expecting to have my ass handed to me like this.” He groans, staring at the five of his balls still left on the table.

“Next time suggest darts.” You tell him, voice raised to be heard over the loud pub.

You put the pool sticks back and seat yourselves at one of the empty tables.

“Okay, I have a question,” he says, leaning forward against the small booth table. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Definitely not.”

“Really?” He sounds surprised.

“You do?”

“Well…��� he hesitates, tongue darting out between his lips, “I don’t know if I believe it but I also don’t not know that I do.”

Your face contorts at his wording. “I don’t think—”

“Okay, yes, I know, but like have you never fallen just a little bit in love with a complete stranger?” You shake your head slowly. “Like you’ve never had a barista compliment your jacket or your eyes once and then spent the next week thinking about them?”

You place a hand to your heart. “I genuinely had no idea this was a common occurrence.”

“You know what, no, I take it back, never mind,” he quickly says, the tips of his ears turning red and hand waving in the air to dismiss the thought. “New topic.”

A breathy laugh escapes from between your lips. “Alright, new topic,” you hum, nodding your head along to the music playing in the background, “do you believe in soulmates?”

He smiles at the question. “Yes and no.”

“Explain.”

“The term ‘soulmate’ has this implication that love will fall into place between two individuals, that they won’t have to work for it, and that it was chosen for them instead of by them. But isn’t it so much more special to look at someone and decide to love them specifically. Decide to love them on purpose. But more than that, the general idea of a ‘soulmate’ relies too heavily on the understanding of love as a feeling. And it’s as you said before about happiness: emotions come and go, and feelings fade. I imagine, more accurately, that love is a choice as much as it’s a feeling, one that you have to get up and make every single day. So yeah, I believe soulmates are real, but I don’t think they’re found; I think they’re made.”

And after his whole spiel, the only thing ringing throughout your head is: holy shit.

He looks up at you, shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he starts timidly, voice suddenly lacking the immense clarity it held just a second ago, “what do you think?”

“I think,” you swallow, a lame attempt to digest everything he just said, “that I’ll never look at love the same again.” 

—

By the time you and Kevin leave from the pub, it’s completely dark out. Streetlamps now lit up and the roads less crowded with only a few whispering groups around each corner. You walk mindlessly around the city’s twisted streets, deciding when and where to turn on whims. And somewhere along the way, while you’re making a comment abput the closed antique store, Kevin’s hand finds its way into yours. You squeeze his palm, a silent affirmation, when he does.

“Wait,” you exclaim, halting suddenly in the square that you and Kevin have stumbled upon, “I think I’ve been here before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, dragging him towards the fountain in the center, “I came here with my family once. I remember seeing this fountain and wanting to throw a coin in.”

“I mean are you sure? Fountains are pretty common.”

You shove his arm. “I swear this is the same one.”

“Here,” he mutters, reaching into his pocket, fishing out two coins, and placing one in your palm. “make a wish now.”

You hold the coin to your lips, closing your eyes while conjuring a wish and then toss the coin in the fountain. Kevin tosses his in a second after you.

“Hey, look,” you take a seat on the ledge of the fountain, pointing at the church across the square, “there was a wedding there today.”

“You know, I learned in school, I think, about Quakers, and,” he starts, sitting down beside you on the ledge, “they have the most interesting weddings.”

“What makes it so interesting?”

“Well for one, there’s no officiant. No handing off of anyone. What’ll happen is the couple walks in, stands in front of the entire congregation, and just stares. And it’s silent too, no one speaks unless they feel compelled to do so. Then after an hour or so, that it; they’re married. Just like that.” 

You turn on the ledge to face him. “Okay let’s try it.” 

His eyebrows waggle. “Getting married?” 

You look at him unamused. “Just the staring part.” 

He nods. “Okay, ready?” he shuts his eyes in preparation, “3, 2, 1, go!” 

Your eyes open at the same time as his, and you nearly laugh at the sheer amount of competitive spirit radiating off Kevin at that moment. And when you mention it, he shakes it off, muttering something about how you’re supposed to be silent. 

When you start leaning in towards him, it’s to mock him and his competitiveness. Or at least, it is at first. But somewhere along the way, you lose track of how close you get to him. Lose track of time as well. Too distracted with studying the concentrated furrow of his brows and the flecks in his eyes to notice whether you’ve spent one minute or twenty getting lost in them. And it’s a cheesy thought, yes, but there’s something about him and the black hair falling in front of his forehead that makes it so hard to care. 

You inhale. “I think I feel compelled to do something now.” 

“What?” 

You close the distance, pressing your lips to his for a brief moment, then pull away. 

“I won,” Kevin murmurs, a smug smile painted across his face, “you closed your eyes first.” 

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying and failing to hold back a smile. “You’re ridiculous; you know that right?” 

“I do.” 

“Good.” 

You kiss him again. 

— 

“Kevin, what are we doing?” You ask for the third time as he pulls you into the red telephone booth and shuts the door. “You do know that these don’t actually work anymore right?” 

He shushes you, pressing a finger to his lips and picking up the receiver. “I have to make a call.” He clears his throat, holds the receiver up to his ear, and makes the ringing sound. “Come on, Jacob, pick up.” You stare at him waiting for the punchline. It never comes. Instead, he fixes you a look and nods his head at your empty hand. 

“Ah, I see,” you hold out a fake phone in your hand, clearing your throat and putting on a fake deep voice. “Hey, Kevin. Long time no talk. How’s Europe?” 

Kevin gives you a funny look. “Hey, Jacob. Europe is great, but why does your voice sound like that?”

You clear your throat again returning to your normal voice. “My bad, I just woke up.” 

“That’s better. Anyways, I called to tell you that I met someone on my very last night in Europe.” 

“How’d you meet them?” 

“On the train to Amsterdam actually. They were sitting by this really annoying couple, so they got up and sat right across the aisle from me. What are the chances, right?”

“Probably, low.” You begin, a familiar exhilaration filling your stomach at what you’re about to confess. “Unless, of course, it wasn’t by chance at all. Unless they saw you getting on the train, thought you were really cute, and used the couple as an excuse to sit by you.” You smile as you say it, finding the way Kevin looks at you after the admission utterly swoon worthy.

“Well, even if that’s true. I think I sort of blew it with them in the beginning. They saw me rereading ‘A series of unfortunate events’ and probably thought I was so lame.” 

“Nah,” you mutter, smiling at your feet, “they probably found it endearing.” 

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I got a good feeling.” When you meet Kevin’s eyes, he’s still watching you, and you find it humorous, almost, how you can barely keep your eyes off each other now especially considering how impossible it felt to do so in the beginning. “So what happened after that?” 

“Oh well, I asked them to come to the lounge car with me and guess what?” 

“What?” 

“They said yes.” 

“Incredible.”

“Then, we got to talking, and, Jacob, everything they said sounded so smart and composed; I felt like a bumbling idiot in front of them. I mean, you wouldn’t believe how incredibly brilliant they are, not to mention gorgeous, and...” his voice trails off, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You lean towards him a bit, as if that’ll get you closer to hearing the rest of the sentence. 

“And what?” 

“And I think I fell in love with them right then.” 

For a second, you forget to breathe. 

Kevin hangs up the fake phone call, handing the receiver to you. “Your turn.” 

You take the phone from him, pretend to dial the number, then make the ringing sound while you wait for Kevin to pick up. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Chanhee. It’s me. I have to cancel on our lunch plans tomorrow.” 

“Oh no. Why? Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, no, everything is fine. I just met someone on the train and—god, I know this is going to sound insane—but I got off the train with him in Amsterdam.” 

“That is insane,” his eyes widen dramatically as he says it. “What made you get off the train with him?” 

“Well, for starters, the arguing couple.” 

“Right, and of course, I, Chanhee, know exactly what that means.” 

“See, I knew you’d understand.” You laugh. “But other than the couple, you know, we started talking on the train and he was so sweet and really cute in this clumsy, flustered sort of way. I don’t know. I think a part of me had already decided to get off the train with him before he ever asked.” 

“That sounds…” he falters there, as if he’s still searching for the right word, “special.”

You nod. “It feels special too.” 

“So what now?” 

“I’m not sure.” You answer honestly. “He’s from Canada and has a flight back there tomorrow morning.” 

“Well, do you plan on seeing him again?” 

The question comes like a slap to the face from the palm of reality itself. One that you probably should have anticipated; a question that probably should’ve crossed your mind at least once. But somehow, you’ve neglected to wonder what’s to come of this fling past tonight.

You hang up, and the obnoxious clatter of the receiver falling back into place rings throughout the booth. 

“I guess we should talk about that.”

“Yeah, I guess we should.” He mumbles, something in his demeanor changing with the words. 

A silence overcomes both of you, and it feels like you’re in the listening booth of the record shop again, avoiding each other’s eyes and waiting for the other to make the first move. 

“Well it’s—“ 

“I think—“ 

You both start at the same time, words crashing together in the air. He laughs, gesturing for you to go first. 

You exhale sharply, tugging on your fingers and already nervous to hear how Kevin will respond. “I just don’t think we should fool ourselves here and make this out to be anything more than it is.” 

“Yeah, no. I was gonna say the same thing.” He nods solemnly, visibly gulping as if the words are hard to swallow. A smile fights its way onto his lips but doesn’t manage to meet his eyes. “So what now?” 

“Well, we have tonight,” you begin, stepping closer, finding his hand, and twirling his pinky finger with yours, “I say we make the most of it.” 

“In that case,” he returns the gesture, capturing your hand and pulling you a little closer, “I have an idea.” 

—

Kevin’s idea ends up with you standing awkwardly off to the side of a bar, quite literally twiddling your thumbs. You reach for Kevin’s necklace that’s now secured around your neck and wonder what part of his plan explains why he gave it to you before entering this establishment. You sneak a few glances at Kevin who's speaking with the lady behind the bar. The lady finally nods, smiling cheerily and heading around the bar. Kevin swivels around, shooting you a thumbs up before receiving the bottle of wine that the lady had retrieved for him. 

“How did you do that?” You ask once you’re both out of earshot, exiting from the building. 

“I told her that I just proposed.” 

You look at him unconvinced, wiggling your left hand in his face. “No ring.” 

“That’s what the necklace was for.” 

“And it worked?” You say, disbelief seeping into your voice. “She believed you?” 

He scoffs. “I don’t know why you look so shocked when you’re literally the one I convinced to get off a train with a complete stranger.” 

And, well, he makes an excellent point. 

— 

You end up at a park, laying on your backs and making silly comments about each star. You have jackets laid out on the grass beneath you and another draped over both of you acting as a blanket. 

“Have you ever heard of that theory?” You say, turning to lay on your side. “About how people fall out of love for the same reason they fell in.” He turns to lay on his side, nodding. “It terrifies me.” 

He frowns. “I think love alone is pretty terrifying.” 

“Did you mean it?” You reposition yourself with an arm under your head. “Back in the telephone booth, did you mean it when you said you fell for me on the train.” 

He stares at you for a long moment then smiles, whispering a small but sincere ‘yes’. 

“Can I tell you a secret then?” He nods. “I think I fell for you too.” 

“When?” 

“Guess.” 

“On the bridge?” You shake your head. “During dinner?” 

“Before that.” 

“In the museum?” 

“You’re getting colder.”

“Ah,” he sighs in understanding, “the listening booth.” 

You nod. “It was while we were listening to that Italian song, ‘Il Mondo’. Each time I felt you looking away, I would look at you. Then you’d turn your head back, and I’d pretend like I wasn’t staring. That moment—well, I guess it was pretty mundane. But, I don’t know, it still felt a little like magic.” 

“Mundane things can be quite magical.” 

“Which one is love then: magical or mundane?” 

He shrugs. “Both, I think.” 

There’s a silence, and it lingers for long enough to remind you of the awkwardness between you and Kevin after getting off the train. However, this silence is so much more different than that other one because it’s the kind that only comes when two people understand each other.

Kevin is the one who ends up breaking it, cutting through the night’s overwhelming quiet with a soft voice. 

“I feel like that painting from the museum right now.” He recalls the title: “‘Lover’s Embrace’.” 

“Is that what we are?” You question, a bit of misplaced insecurity dipping into your voice. “Lovers?” 

“Is there any other way to describe this?” 

“I don’t know.” You inhale. “Strangers?” 

He waits a beat, then offers: “Soulmates?” 

You’re reminded of the conversation you had in the pub, and his gut-wrenching, life-altering definition of the term. You meet his eyes steadily. “Do you believe that?” 

He smiles. “Do you?” 

And there’s something about the way he says the question that makes it sound like a dare, like a request. As if he isn’t asking if you believe it, but rather, he’s asking you to believe it. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug. But it’s a lie, you do. 

“The way I see it,” he begins, scooting closer, “if someone were to give me an ultimatum: I’d marry you right now. And I know it’s insane, I know that probably just sounds like some grand romantic bullshit, but I’m serious. With how I’ve come to feel about you tonight, I could wake up every day and put in the work of choosing to love you.” 

“And what about the couple on the train?” 

“What about them?” 

“What happens when we become them? What happens when we hate each other so much, we blow up in public?” 

“Who says we will?” 

“But hypothetically,” you insist, “what happens then?” 

“Honestly?” 

“Yes.” 

“It’s gonna sound stupid.” 

“Just tell me.” 

“I wouldn’t mind.” He lets the statement sit for a second, inhaling deeply before continuing. “I’d accept the inevitable arguing in the middle of a train if I was doing it with you.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“But that’s the craziest part,” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I actually do.” 

“How?” You huff. “How can you sound so certain that you’ll love me despite all the things you’ll come to hate me for?” 

“Because you got off the train with me,” he says, shaking his head like the answer is obvious. “And at this point in the night, I’m pretty convinced that you’re the only person in the world who would.” 

And yeah, you think laughing, he’s probably right about that part. Because who else would be insane enough to get off a train with a complete stranger? Who else would fall in love on a train and while listening to an Italian record? Who else but you and Kevin Moon? 

“You know what they call that?” 

“What?”

You raise your brow, something terrifying hanging off the tip of your tongue: 

“Soulmate culture.” 

— 

You used to love sunrises. Loved how golden they are. How they coat everything in sight, lighting up whatever darkness was left by the night. You always saw them as a promise of something new, a new day and a new beginning. But today, when the sun does finally rise, you can’t seem to remember why you used to love them so much. Especially not after you spent the entire night dreading this particular one.

The walk to the train station had been quiet for the most part, a solemn and groggy acceptance that it was your final stretch of time together. And now standing with Kevin at the platform, you’ve never hated the arrival of a train more.

“I should probably get on the train now.”  

“Right,” Kevin mutters, chewing on his bottom lip and bouncing on his heels. He laughs, awkwardly, rubbing at his eyes. “God, I hate goodbyes.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I hate this one.”

You hug him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face between his neck and shoulder. He hesitates for a second, as if he’s shocked by the gesture, then tightens his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. And the only thing you can think about while hugging him is how this is the first and last time you’ll ever do so. 

You pull away, give him a small, sad smile, then grab your things, stepping onto the train. You give him a wave before disappearing into the car. From the window by your seat, you can still see him. He finds you, giving you a smile and another wave. And when he turns around, beginning to walk out of the train station, nothing has ever felt more wrong.

“Kevin!” You shout, unlatching the window and sticking your head out of it. He whips back around. “Let’s just do it! Let’s see each other again!”

It takes a second for Kevin to react. Too long, your brain convinces you already wishing the words back. But it’s as you sink back into your seat that he breaks out in the most brilliant grin. “Fuck it, yeah, let’s do it! Where?”

You laugh at the absurdity of this moment and how unreal it feels. “Here! Amsterdam, at this train station, on this platform.”

“Okay, here. In one year?”

You shake your head. “I can’t wait that long.”

“Me neither.” He laughs, an exhale of pure joy that you can see even from the train. 

“Six months from today.” You tell him over the train whistle as the wheels start to move, pulling you away. “See you then.”

He waves goodbye again, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, “see you then!”

You fall back in your seat, immediately burying your face into your palms. Your hands trail down, rubbing at your neck, clutching the part of your chest that falls over your heart, and—what is that?

You look down, recognizing the object around your neck and lifting it up with the pad of your thumb. And as you stare at the pendant of Kevin’s forgotten necklace, your smile grows.

—

SIX MONTHS LATER

The train station feels so much more different than how you left it. The weather now colder, and the platform decked with lingering holiday decorations. You get off the train and look around, praying for a familiar face.

“Hey.” The voice comes from behind you. You pivot around, so quickly your head spins. Or maybe the spinning sensation has something to do with how euphoric it feels to see Kevin again.

“Hey.”

“You came?” He asks, not bothering to hold back his elation.

“Well, yeah,” you reach into the pocket of your coat and fish out the necklace he left six months ago, “you forgot this.”

“Funny coincidence, huh? Unless, of course, it wasn’t a coincidence at all.” He hints with a smug grin. “Unless I left it on purpose so that you’d have a reason to come back.”

“If that’s the case, then you spent six months without your necklace for nothing.” 

“Oh, and why’s that?”

You step closer, smiling. “Because I already had a reason to come.”

a/n: i had way too much fun writing this,, also the translation of the italian song is half google and half me kind of assuming what the lyrics mean so idk how accurate that translation is

[cucumbers-and-olives]

Enemies to Lovers Part 3

masterlist  <<part 1 <part 2 part 3 part 4 (coming soon!) >

Summary: You leave the Gillespie house and head to the airport with Charlie after an eventful two weeks. While at the airport, your flight gets delayed and you learn of some interesting news...

Category: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff

Fandom: JATP

Paring: Charlie Gillespie x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings/Includes: arguing/fighting, small panic attack, cringy songs i wrote

A/N: so... i can never post on time. and i know its been a while since i posted the last chapter. i really hope you guys like this chapter! please reblog and comment and let me know what you think! your support means everything, and keeps me going, so thank you.

Mandatory Thanking of the Betas: thank you to @wrhen for giving me help and feedback with this chapter!

AO3 link here (coming soon!)

Please don’t repost my work without my permission, in part or whole. My work can also be found on AO3 @cucumbersandolives. Thank you!

Ice & Fire, and Enemies to Lovers are both my own songs that I wrote. All song rights go to me.

“Charlie! Y/N! Your cab is here!” Ms.Gillespie called. You checked under the bed one last time before grabbing your suitcase and backpack.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality Ms.Gillespie,” You said, walking up to her. “If you hadn’t invited me I would have spent Christmas alone, and this was so much better.”

“Christmas alone? What a loser,” Charlie remarked as he put his bag into the trunk of the cab. You just rolled your eyes.

“Charlie, be a gentleman and grab her suitcase.” Ms.Gillespie said with a calm yet authoritative tone. He grabbed your suitcase and did as he was told. “I’m sorry about him, but I’m happy you had a good time. Maybe you can join us next year?”

“I would be honored,” You said, taking a last glance around the house you had stayed at for the past two weeks.

“Hey! Let’s go!” Charlie hollered from outside. “We’re gonna miss the flight!”

“Thank you, Ms.Gillespie,” You adjusted your backpack and stepped outside to the man who had become a whiny teenager.

“Finally,” He said as you sat down. “She’s my mother, not yours.”

“I’m sorry about him,” You said to the lady in the driver's seat. “We’re all ready to go now, sorry for the wait.”

She nodded and began to drive. The scenery was nice, but it only took a couple of minutes for you to start yelling at Charlie.

“Fuck this,” You pulled out his earbud. The niceties could stop now that his mother wasn’t here. “I have tried to be nice to you this whole time, but now I can say this: You want to act like a little boy throwing a hissy fit? Fine, be my guest. But at least do it in someone else’s company, I have been nothing but kind to you, you-” You almost cussed again, but you reined yourself in. He was worth your anger but not that much of it.

He just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Whatever you say, princess.” His words, taken in another context, could have easily been mistaken for something other than the daggers they were.

~

“It’s delayed,” He said, and that simple fact destroyed the rest of the day. “The plane has some issue. They think it’ll be at least two hours, if not more.”

“God, every time I try to like airports, something bad happens,” You said, slumping back into the uncomfortable airport chairs. You knew it wasn’t the airline’s fault, (well it kinda was), but you needed to get back to work. You fiddled with the cord on your headphones before putting them back on.

“Ah- Not so fast,” Charlie said, blocking you from putting them on. He showed you who was calling him. “If I have to talk to the boss man,” He said, referring to Kenny, “Then you do too.”

“See but I don’t,” You said, as you received a different call. “I have a different boss to talk to.”

“I mean, I’m not your boss-” The girl on the other end of the phone said, but Charlie cut her off.

“Are you actually going to talk to Jadah?” He said, about to accept Kenny’s call.

“No, Charlie. Sav’s phone died, so you talk to your boss and I’ll talk to mine.” You walked around for a bit to find a quieter corner of the airport.

“You okay, Y/N?” Jadah asked, finally.

“No, but that's for another time. What’s up?”

“So… Kenny is telling Charlie about the song showcase, but there’s one thing that he’ll leave out.” She said, leaving you on a cliffhanger.

“That is?” You said, prompting her.

“I- I may have slipped him your demos?” Jadah said slowly, and at that moment, all sense of keeping up public appearances went out the window.

“Jadah! Those were not yours to share! In any capacity!” You took a deep breath and asked your first question. “Where did you get them? I thought that the sound guy and I were the only ones with copies?” “I may have bribed him for a copy,” She said sheepishly. Even though you couldn’t see her, you knew she was nervous.

“Jadah, I have one other question.” You paused, trying to figure out how to ask nicely. “Which songs did you give him? Cause if you gave him Enemies-”

“I gave him Ice & Fire, Enemies to Lovers, and I can’t remember the third one. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not.” You were, a little bit. “Can you put Savannah on the phone though?” She gave a quick yes, and you could hear the phone being passed between hands.

“Y/N?” Savannah said.

“Did you know? A-about the demos,” You clarified.

“I knew you recorded them, and Jadah had me listen to them. You are amazing!”

“Thank you,” You said. “Uh, E.T.L. isn’t finished yet, but I had the time in the studio so I recorded it.” “Y/N, if you want to be a songwriter, you would be amazing!” She said, but you could tell what she meant.

“I won’t leave you in the middle of a show, Sav.” You were honest with your words. “I know.” She paused. You both knew what amazing opportunities would open up if you did. “Hold on one second, I’m going to go on mute really quick, okay?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

You could see Charlie coming towards you. His walk had a purpose, but one that was unknown to you.

“Hello, Mr.Ortega! How can I help?” You put your hand out to Charlie, signaling to him that if he talked he would be dead as Kenny spoke.

“I’m not sure if the girls have told you, but we’d love to have you perform your songs at the showcase.” He said, and you chose your words wisely, so that way Charlie wouldn’t know.

“I’d love to! What time, and which ones would you like to hear?” You asked, as you pulled out a pen and rolled up your sleeves.

“Ice & Fire, Enemies to Lovers or uh, E.T.L., I believe that was how Jadah referred to it?” He said, and you could tell he wasn’t sure what to call it.

“Yeah, I can do that, any others?” You said, scribbling down quick abbreviations of the titles.

“Oh there was one more, How to Be a Heartbreaker, I loved that one.” He said, pausing. “And I believe that Jadah mentioned that you had a few others? If you want to pick one or two, that would be great!”

“Alright! I know it’s weird to ask this, but no one has given me any details, so what time is the showcase, and where is it?” You asked, excited for the opportunity to perform.

“4:30 this afternoon, in dance studio A.” You wrote down the time quickly.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be landing from my flight only an hour before that.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You can do it.”

You scoffed a bit as the call ended. “Fuck.” You cussed under your breath.

“Wow, you talked to Kenny, and that's your response to a conversation with him? Anyways, I’m going to grab a coffee, want one?” He offered.

“Uh, I’ll just take a muffin, if they have one.” As you walked away, your brain was moving a mile a minute as you tried to figure out how everything would work.

“C’mon Y/L/N, if there’s one thing you can figure out, it’s making this work. You can do this.”

~

“Owen!” You said, running over to him.

“Hi!” He said giving you a hug, and then he looked at you. “Sav told me, you look like a mess.”

“Yeah, I know. Look, can you fix my necklace?” You said pointing to the jumbled mess it had gotten into around your neck.

“Yeah, ‘course, turn around,'' He said, and you did so. He got surprisingly close as you moved your hair away from your neck, and as he fiddled with it, you could see Charlie out of the corner of your eye. He had a look that you couldn’t put your finger on, but it almost seemed like… jealousy?

“All done!” He said, patting you on the back.

“Thank you,” You said, adjusting your sweatshirt a bit.

“You got this,” He said, grabbing your hand. “Okay?”

“Okay-” You said, but Kenny’s voice rose above everyone else's.

“Hello everyone! If you could turn your attention to the mirror, that would be great!” Everyone’s eyes turned to him, standing on a chair with a mic in hand. “Here's how this is going to work. I’d like our lovely leads to come to the mirror. Anyone else who isn’t singing can stand off of the dance floor over there,” He pointed to an area.

“If you are singing, you can follow me,” Paul said, raising his hand.

“Okay, go!” Kenny said, and as you followed Paul, you could hear him as a question. “Where is Charlie? Jeremy, check that bathroom, and Owen, look in the break room.”

~

“That was amazing Anna! Okay, who is next?” Kenny said, motioning to the person in front of you to come out. “Ah, Kevin, what do you have for us?”

Kevin began to talk, but it was hard to hear anything over your beating heart. You tried to take deep breaths, but it just got louder, and your worries began to overwhelm you. You took a step back in the line, making your way to the back. That would give you some time to overcome your worries before you went out there.

The line seemed to move a warp speed, because before you knew it, Kenny was calling your name.

“Y/N? Are you back there?” He asked, and you could hear everyone start to whisper when you didn’t respond.

“Yeah, gimme one second!” You said, fixing your shirt a bit. You got this. You can do it.

As you stepped out onto the stage Kenny’s face lit up. “There you are! How was the flight?” His eyes were kind, but as you looked into the audience, there were many shook faces.

“It was rough, but I’m happy to be here,” You said, sitting down in the chair in the middle of the stage. You kept taking deep breaths, trying, desperately to calm your nerves.

“I know you have a couple, so whenever you are ready, just say the song's name, and what characters you wrote it for,” Kenny explained. You looked around to see who was there. There was the choreo team, some Netflix executives, the lead cast, and a couple of other people who you didn’t recognize.

“This is lce & Fire, and I pictured Alex and Willie singing it.”

“Oh the desire

Like Ice & Fire

Shout it out loud

They won’t bring us down

Not a disgrace

We’ve made mistakes

Our love is strong

So sing along

I’ve been looking for you for so long

(I couldn’t find you)

Now that I’ve met you I’ve

Done something wrong

Oh, Ohhhh, Oh

Oh the desire

Like Ice & Fire

Shout it out loud

They can’t pull us down

Runnin’ from our past

Met in a crash

Through thick and thin

We can win

I’ve been looking for you for so long

(I couldn’t find you)

Now that I’ve met you I’ve

Done something wrong

Oh, Ohhhh, Oh

The forces pullin’ us together

Can’t stop, won’t stop

Oh hold on a little longer now

We’re Ice & Fire

(Fire)

Two parts of one

(One)

Can’t you see the passion in my eyes

Of Ice & Fire.”

As you finished, the final chord rang out from your guitar. The room was silent until Kenny spoke.

“That was wonderful! Booboo, Owen, what do you all think?” He said, turning to the actors for their opinion.

Booboo nodded to Owen. “Well, I think that your song embodies the characters really well. Uh, I definitely would love to sing it in the show, and I, uh personally can see our characters singing it. You wanna go?”

“Yeah, I agree with Owen on so many levels. I’d love to sing Ice & Fire, if that's okay with you Kenny,” Booboo turned to Kenny and the smile that was on his face was slowly mirrored on yours.

“Let’s do it! You wanna sing any others?” The room held its breath waiting for a response. And so did you.

Your first song had passed the test. Made it through. Your knee started bouncing again and you looked up to Savannah.

You got this. She mouthed.

You cleared your throat and moved the capo on your guitar. “Yeah, uh, this one is called Enemies to Lovers, and I didn’t write this one about any specific characters so it can be changed to fit any of them.”

You started singing and getting into the song. A door creaked open and you looked up, curious, and you continued to sing and play.

It was Charlie. He looked like a mess, like he had just gone to hell and back. Moving among the cast to find his seat, he didn’t notice you singing. Until you started the chorus.

It’s like we’re written in the stars,

Enemies to Lovers

Swinging past the bars,

Baby, we’ll discover-

You, me, we’re not so different,

You, me, we always win it,

You and me, we’re better than we seem,

Enemies

He watched you as you sang, and you, in turn, watched him. As you went into the chorus for a second time, you saw something change in his face. A realization or something, and you turned back to face Kenny as you finished the song.

We are written in the stars,

That's how we became

Well, what we are

Bicker hard and far,

Maybe we’ll discover-

You, me, we are different,

You, me, we can’t beat it,

You and me, we’re worse off than we seemed

You strummed your guitar, leaving the song and the story unfinished.

“That was amazing, unfortunately, I don’t think we have space for it in our show.” He smiled. “Someone will contact you about using Ice & Fire.”

The panel along with the rest of the room, packed up their things and started to leave until just you and the main cast remained. You started to walk out of the room when someone called out.

“Y/N! Wait!”

It was Charlie.

You looked at him, “Yes?”

“What the fuck was that song? Who’d you write it about?” He asked, like a love struck boy.

“I wrote it about you, duh!” You watched his face turn into one of- slight happiness? You laughed and started to walk away. Of course, he would think it’s about him, but why would it be? “Fuck you, Charlie. I didn’t think you were that self-centered!”

“I’m not!”He countered, and you stopped walking to look at him.

“Really? Cause only a self-centered person would ask me that… Or, do you have a crush on me? Aww, that’s so sweet!” You mocked. “See you around, lover boy.”

~

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