#i literally just saw these bright ass sharpies and was like
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temerity
― the perfect job for an overworked, tired, and romantic you is obviously a stressful, demanding, but oh so aesthetic coffeeshop. your job only becomes better when a handsome redhead appears through the door with a loud bang, and you can do nothing but fall for him. or the five times kirishima orders coffee and the one time he doesn’t.
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pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader
warnings: cursing, fluff, light angst, pining, coffee shop!au, modern!au, college!au, happy ending, five times he did and one time he didn’t trope
word count: 9,394
a/n: happy birthday to my beautiful love @ikinabi!!!! this was written for you based off of your favorite tropes including your favorite word, bet you saw this coming a mile away because my interrogation for this was absolute ass. also sorry for the angst, I couldn’t help myself! for the rest of you non-reds, this was a pretty damn fun piece to write. kirishima was modeled after how red sees him too, sorry. I haven’t typed that much in a single sitting in a long time, so it was p refreshing. like always, enjoy and leave a comment if you enjoyed ;-; (oh and thank you all for kiri coffee taste suggestions)
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O N E
Working in a small coffee shop isn’t exactly what you had once thought it to be.
For years you had been attending the small coffee shop just by your university. Most of your studying, homework, and late-night mental breakdowns had taken place in the corner of the shop, hidden from the sight of the patrons, which was conventionally the best spot for the strongest wifi.
You had been there so many times, having tried every single drink on their menu, and had gotten to know every worker there ― including the owners. So when the invitation to work there was brought up the one night you showed up in hysterics because you had lost your other job, it shouldn’t have taken you by surprise.
So now, in your final year of university, you stood at the counter. A textbook cracked open near the register light, the gentle coffee shop tunes playing merrily in the background. The intricate, familiar, and distinguished smell of both fresh and aging coffee beans with day-old pastries soaked deep into every centimeter of the room.
The coffee shop was typically slow at this time at night, most people, thankfully, choosing to keep their caffeine addictions primarily in the mornings. Or, as a student had once confessed, didn’t want to make your job more demanding, so they made their own caffeinated drink this late at night. Regardless, it didn’t matter; the morning and afternoon crowds at this coffee shop were busy enough for you to be grateful for this downtime, especially as midterm season was beginning to approach. With this upcoming season, you knew you would be pouring liters of coffee down red-eyed, broken-spirited, college students' throats in the coming days.
Humming, you flipped the page of your biochem textbook, information on amino acids and protein structure twisting in your mind. At the same time, you tried to absorb the chaotic, overflowing amount of information presented on a single page. With a pen to your lip, you frowned at the sentence, rereading phrases over and over again as you struggled to figure out just why Hydrogen formation was so important.
That didn’t last for too long, fortunately.
For when you were about to scream to your coworker who was hiding away in the backroom about how amino acids could go fuck themselves, the front door slammed open.
Despite the wooden door being extremely, almost stupidly heavy (to the point where there was a sign that clearly read: YES WE ARE OPEN, THE DOOR IS JUST REALLY HEAVY, outside), it crashed into the wall, causing a loud smack to rattle the shop. You, having been so absorbed in your studies, jumped at the sound. Your body flinched as a surprised shriek left your lips.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! It said the door was heavy, but I didn’t think it would slam open like that!” came an apologetic and obviously embarrassed voice from the entrance.
Your heart was pounding with adrenaline. You focused your attention on the man who was frantically checking potential damages to both the door and the wall. All while he continued to apologize.
Red hair and red eyes are the first things you noticed about him.
Red hair that obviously was dyed, red, warm eyes seemed smooth and seemed to melt into sugary brown, and a rather large scar over his right eye that stopped just at his eyebrow. His smile was broad, exceedingly bright, albeit stiff.
Despite your pumping blood and the way that your fingertips tingle with your fear, a smile and laugh pressed to your lips as he fumbled to close the door behind him (although it was nearly closed by the time he fumbled for the metal brass door handle). Pushing up off the counter from where you were lying, you shut the textbook you had, waving off the new customer.
“No worries! Most people either overcompensate or can’t open the door at all,” you explained with a pinching smile, the laughter in your tone so noticeable despite your intent to keep your humor hidden. Your smile and softly thudding heart only seemed to increase stupidly as the red-headed man approached the cash register.
He was dressed horribly.
He wore an orange gym shirt, most definitely worn with age, and a bit too small on his… physique, navy blue basketball shorts that had white stripes on the side of his thigh, and black athletic crew socks with bright red crocs.
A living, walking fashion disaster.
“Um,” you stifled a teasing snort, “what can I get for ya?”
The man (was he a himbo? he seemed like he could be one through his appearance alone!) crossed his arms across his chest, lower lip jutting out as he read the menu under his breath with curious, wide eyes. His head tilted to the side, his gaze seemingly stuck on a single area of the menu, and with all the curiosity of the world weighing down on you at this one, very moment, you turned behind you.
“Anything catching your eye?”
“This is… uh, this is my first time in here,” he admitted, his gaze falling from the menu, catching your own eye when you turned back around to face him. His eyes were wide, clear as they were alarmingly honest; he paused for a bit before eventually adding, “actually.”
“Well,” you began, your own honest smile brightening on your face, “lucky for you, I’ve tried everything on this menu. Pick your poison, I can tell you what everything tastes like.”
His eyes widen in what you can only recognize as being overwhelmed, but you try to hide the way your smile is turning into a smirk when he begins to list out drinks.
Drink after drink he names, most of them being dark, black, bitter-tasting coffees, and you can see some hesitation in him with each name he lists.
“You don’t seem to know what kinda coffee you like, huh?” you eventually point out once he’s had you repeat the entire menu for the dark roasts the shop had.
“That would be embarrassing if it wasn’t for the fact that I’ve never had coffee in my life before,” he laughed partially in embarrassment, but much more in some underlying mirth and energy, he seemed to easily hold. Energy that seemed to warm your chest more than any cup of coffee on a cold morning. “I’m what you could call a coffee virgin.”
Now that got a snort out of you.
“Okay, coffee virgin,” you teased, immediately grabbing a kids' throwaway cup behind the counter. “You should’ve started with that!”
“I didn’t want to come off as uncultured! I mean, I’m down at the university, the uni down the street, I’m a university student myself! But being twenty-one and never having coffee before? It just seems… I don’t know so unmanly!”
All while he was confessing the reason as to why he had never in his life had a single cup of coffee, you had poured the simmering black coffee that he was most interested in into the cup. It was filled with only a small amount of the black, bitter liquid, just enough to give him a good taste of the drink. Placing the kids' cup in front of him with a satisfactory thunk, you grinned up at him.
His hand was pressed to the back of his neck, an almost shameful look on his face with just the smallest blush brightening his cheeks and ear tips.
“I think it’s cool you’re a uni student without a coffee addiction,” you smile earnestly, pressing the kids' cup closer to him. “Shows a different kind of man that you’re able to handle a workload without a caffeine drip.”
If you didn’t know better (and honestly, you didn’t, you were probably projecting the weird stranger crush you had seamlessly formed on him), you would have said he forgot how to speak. He clears his throat, his embarrassment fading into a small, soft smile, and he picks up the cup.
“Thank you for the sample.”
He takes a drink of the warm liquid, and immediately he seems to crush the paper cup in his hand, a suppressed hysteric of coughing spluttering past his fisted hand on his mouth, tears springing into his eyes. You yelped in surprise, hands fluttering out to smack him on the arm in a failed attempt to reach his back.
“O-Oh my god!” he eventually wheezed, his eyes staring down at the crushed cup as if it was some sort of vermin, a creature that had no use being alive but still pitied it. His other hand wiped at his lips as to rid of its taste. His head snapped back towards you, his eyes wet with betrayal from both his thoughts and taste buds. “Can you do something, not this at all?!”
You purse your lips for a second, thinking about just what could suit his apparent dislike for bitter, black coffee. With a single idea in your head, you leaned forward onto the counter, a smile back on your lips.
“Do you like cinnamon rolls?”
He blinked.
“Who doesn’t?”
“For here or to go?” you asked, head tilting to the side before you eventually remembered that the shop was closing in a few minutes. “Actually, it’ll be to go!”
“O-Oh, okay!”
“Can I get a name?” you asked, your hand grabbing the paper cup and a sharpie to write his name. There was no reason for you to write down his name; he was the only person in the shop right now.
“K-Kiripima,” he answers with wide eyes and red cheeks. Your eyebrows scrunch.
“Kiripima?”
“No! I’m, oh my god, this is so unmanly of me,” he bemoaned, his head shaking. “Kirishima Eijirou! I’m Kirishima Eijirou!”
The pealing laughter that erupted from your mouth stood no chance at being silenced. And so with an embarrassed nod of your own, you pressed off the counter, writing his name was the neatest writing you had, before setting off.
You worked fast behind the counter, making the specialized drink just for the blushing himbo of a man before you, well, at least until he interrupted your chain of thoughts and actions.
“Biochem, right?”
Placing the cup where the steamed milk machine was, you turned to look at Kiri(p)shima, who was pointing at your textbook with an all too familiar look on his face that told you he recognized it.
“Unfortunately,” you smiled at him, eventually shrugging. “I also go to the uni down the street.”
“Aw damn, sucks I’ve never seen you there before!” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck when he glances up at you from the textbook before looking back down. “I took this class last semester!”
“Oh? Who’d you have?” you asked, continuing on with your work, your suspicion of him being a himbo slightly dwindling.
“Chaney!” he responded, and you looked over at him; you had him this semester, too. “It was the worst! I dropped out the first week! Didn’t help that I thought biochem was a split biology and chemistry course… teaches me not to listen to Kaminari and Mina… ah, I mean, my friends!”
Himbo indeed.
Laughing at his flux in judgment, you placed the steaming cup of sweet, sweet coffee in front of Kirishima, hands pressing onto your hips as you did so.
“How about this?”
You watch as the redhead grins at you, picking up the cup of coffee and drinking it despite your last second squeak that it was probably way too hot to be consumed.
“HOLY SHIT! This is so much better! It tastes just like cinnamon rolls! Bro, you have some serious talent!” Kirishima yelled, his eyes not quite as bright, but his smile definitely still as warm. “How much will it be?”
“On the house,” you admitted with a shrug, your cheeks warming with his look of disbelief. “I took your, uh, coffee virginity away and nearly killed ya, it’s the least I could do!”
Kirishima narrows his gaze on you, his smile softening in tandem while he looks over at the menu again, taking another stiff sip of the coffee.
You watch as he takes his wallet out of his pocket, and with a little effort, pulls out two thousand yen.
“For the next few customers then, yeah?” he smoothly states, already moving back towards the door long before you could demand that he come back and take his money with him.
“Hey!” Kirishima yells, his hand had opened the heavy ass door with no problem or strain. “What's your name?”
“Why?!” you yelled back despite your instincts screaming at you to tell him your name.
His grin stretches so widely you take notice of his glinting, almost abnormally sharp canines from the counter.
“So, I know who to blame for my caffeine addiction!”
You laugh.
“Y/l/n y/n,” you smile, your stomach flipping at the way he seems to brighten with that information. “I promise that’s my real name too, no mess-ups.”
Kirishima laughs, red staining his face.
“Guess we can’t all be as amazing as you, huh?”
You didn’t get the chance to even scream in your fluster because he was already gone. The heavy wooden door closed by the time your coworker emerged from the back, an all too curious look on their face.
“What was that?”
You shrug, a smile stretching further on your face.
“Hopefully, a new regular.”
T W O
“Kiripima!”
If there was a way for you to not giggle at the way Kirishima nearly slammed the door through the wall in his shock embarrassment, you would have liked to know.
“My name is Kirishima, y/l/n!” he yelled back, his cheeks the same color as his spiked hair. “I mean, if you want to call me Kiripima, that’s okay! It’s just… my name is Kiri-shima!”
“Sorry, sorry, Kiripima was too cute to resist!” you admitted with a smirk, your body leaning forward, elbows pressed onto the counter, hands pressed against your cheeks. “What can I get for you so late at night, Kiri-shima?”
Kirishima smiles broadly, his hands sinking into his pockets as he walks over towards you and the counter. He’s dressed much more normally today, he wore black jeans that are slightly dirty with some sort of white powder, and his shirt is a crimson red. It’s tight against his biceps but fits him much better than the last shirt he wore, and on the fabric right above his heart, lays a simple print: FATGUM’S GRUB.
“Nightshift, unfortunately, finally caught me this week!” Kirishima sighs, his shoulder-shrugging but the smile remaining just as firmly on his face. “It’s no biggie, though; it’s for one of my bros who needed the night off!”
“Oh, so you’re an everyday hero?” you tease, enjoying the way that he grins wide enough to show off his sharp canines before it humbles into an embarrassed smile. “How manly of you.”
“Nothing anyone else wouldn’t do,” he mumbled, his gaze falling to your shoulder in his embarrassment.
“Alright, alright, if you say so,” you relent, sighing softly before straightening up and smiling up at the red-haired man who was busy taking in your menu once again with significant hesitation. “What can I get for you this time, Kirishima?”
Kirishima’s eyes glinted over, a laugh once again rumbling in his chest before he sighed, “What do you suggest for me, y/l/n?”
And so, at nearly ten p.m., you stood behind the cash register, Kirishima’s coffee long since given to him, and the two of you were intently talking, laughter and enthusiastic yelling being exchanged fervently.
You learned his name was Kirishima Eijirou; he was twenty-one years old, born and raised in Musutafu. You knew that while yes, he most definitely a himbo (something you confirmed with strategic questions, and not straight up asking him), he was an engineering major! He played a ton of sports but seemed to prefer heavy contact sports, rugby, and soccer being his top choice of sport. You even found out that this man (who often used the term manly in a way that meant ‘approved by Kirishima’) was the biggest fan of the old movies and comic book hero Crimson Riot. You figured this out when he pulled out his phone to show you a picture of his new goldfish and accidentally revealed his lock screen being him and the famous actor behind the superhero.
“You’re telling me you’ve NEVER seen an All Might movie, but you’ve seen ALL the Crimson Riot movies?!” Kirishima yelled, his arms shooting out past the counter to grab you by the shoulders, shaking you intensely with the biggest, goofiest smile on his face.
“Be careful with your coffee!” you squealed, trying to keep his elbow from knocking over his cup that had still gone untouched.
“Y/L/N!” he exasperated, pulling himself in closer to you, his eyes wide and bright, quickly drowning you with his radiant energy and overwhelming enthusiasm. “Answer!!!”
“Oh my god! Yes, Kirishima! I have never seen an All Might film but have seen every single Crimson Riot film!” you confess, your cheeks hurting from your laughter, and growing sense of embarrassment because everyone in the world has seen the All Might movies!
Hell, even people who weren’t from Japan had seen them all!
The movie superhero was a blockbuster smash with every movie they did!
“Why not?! How not?!”
“Because my dad never let me watch them growing up because the guide warnings,” you wheezed, your stomach cramping with your laughter, your hands grabbing onto his sturdy ― and holy fuck, were they sturdy ― biceps trying to ease his excited(???) shaking. “Besides, my dad is a hardcore Crimson Riot fan; he would have a heart attack and die if he heard that I went to go watch an All Might film.”
“Holy shit,” Kirishima breathed, a glazed over glee washing over his face in some euphoric bliss. “Your dad… is so manly, I think I could marry him.”
Your laughter only grew when Kirishima wiped tears from his eyes, and you patted his arm in your condolences.
“I think he would not take to someone claiming to be the biggest Crimson Riot fan!”
Kirishima grin only grew, “Bet he wouldn’t!”
You tilted your head, your smile becoming a bit lopsided, ready to take that bet right there, right now. You knew your dad was most definitely still awake at this time.
But the words never got to pass your mouth because as soon as you opened your mouth to speak, a loud ringtone interrupted you.
You also hated the fact that you recognized the ringtone to be the Crimson Riots theme song.
Kirishima’s warm hands pulled away from you, his overeagerness abandoned as he pulled out his phone and pressed it to his ear without checking who was calling.
“It’s Ei, talk to me.”
The nickname of his first name caused your stomach to flip, his smooth baritone voice easily sending shivers down your spine. Still, with the mention of such an intimate nickname… the chill crawling down your spine, teasing every nerve in your system, was inevitable.
You watched Kirishima’s face. The way that he easily took in the words of whoever was on the other side of the line. The smile on his face remained if only muted just a bit as he agreed left and right with whoever was on the other side.
“Nah, I can get there in a few! Don’t worry about it, Fat, I normally show up early to shifts regardless, I don’t blame ya! Yeah, yeah, okay, yeah! Yeah! See ya soon!”
Disappointment blossomed in your chest, the horrible feeling of having to say goodbye to a customer who had only come in twice! Twice! Most times, you never wanted to see any customers, even some regulars, more than once in your lifetime! But again, there had been no other customer in your life as a barista that had been as kind, friendly, and hot as Kirishima.
“Well, I gotta go now,” Kirishima softly sighed, his lips pressing into a half-smile, his eyebrows scrunched together in his (maybe) reluctance to leave. “Fat, er, my boss, got overloaded with the late-night munchies, so…”
“Time for the fanboy to leave?” you finished for him, your fingers looping into your apron, your eyes glancing at the clock that showed you that you should’ve been cleaning up five minutes ago.
“Yeah, sadly!” Kirishima laughed, his hand grabbing the coffee and pocketing his phone as he made his way to the front door. You followed after him, ready to lock the door after him in case some desperate customer tried to come in. “Well, thank you for the coffee again! I gotta see just how much you know about the greatest superhero ever the next time I drop by!”
You smiled.
“Next time?”
Kirishima paused for a bit, “Yeah, next time!” he pushed through the front door, and you watched as he exited the shop, his body turning so he was looking at you while he walked backward. “I told ya, y/l/n, it's pretty unmanly of you, but you got me hooked on caffeine!”
There was no time for you to argue otherwise because he turned on his heel just as quickly and began jogging off to his own job.
“You’ll close up by yourself?” your bitchy coworker asked, and you startled, seeing that she was also pushing past the door. “You kept us over way later because you can’t stop flirting with the customers, which by the way, is against protocol.”
You roll your eyes.
“Yeah, whatever, bye.”
T H R E E
“Next in line, please!”
It was busy.
As you had once thought many, many weeks ago, the midterm season had finally come with full force, and it was horrible. There were at least four crying college students found in any of the studying rooms the shop had from sun up to sundown. Some of the students were found soaking their tears onto the worn leather sofa, some moments from dying on the plenty of counters and tables.
On multiple days there had been students who stayed the entire day, drinking whole pots worth of black coffee when they were ordinarily sweet coffee drinkers. You had to give some freshmen girl a tight hug the other day who was seconds from taking a W on her transcripts because she absolutely could no longer handle her math class. You had the unfortunate time of giving a student the news that no, today was not Thursday, it’s Friday, so yes… they missed their midterm for a professor who would refuse to reschedule any missed exam.
But it wasn’t all too bad.
Kirishima had been showing up practically every day now; he would order a pastry every time, opting out of a drink by showing you his three-liter water bottle. It was nice to have someone like Kirishima around (partially because you usually worked with a younger coworker,) who was both strong and sweet. He wasn’t majorly concerned about his midterms, stating that he had study groups with his friends and had been on top of his game and only came to the coffee shop to do light personal studying. So, during your mad dashes to make the 2,783rd cup of coffee within your shift, you couldn’t help but glance over at Kirishima, who was comforting crying students. When they weren’t crying, and you weren’t desperately trying to appease the caffeine raged customers, he chatted with you, seated on the counter by the coffee counter.
Having him around so much was actually both making your day better and much, much worse. On the one hand, that meant that since you were paired up with coworkers you didn’t get along with, you had a fantastic company that literally made the nights go by so fast as you and he became closer and closer friends. But, on the other hand, it also made your once attraction to him, having been solely based on physical looks to bleed over to personal traits, and you wanted to cry with every poor attempt of flirting that flew over his head.
However, you did get to learn that 1. he did, in fact, dye his hair red because you had the privilege of seeing his black roots. And that 2. despite his phone being filled with the craziest metal and rock songs, he really only listened to a playlist buried in his phone that was filled with soft acoustic guitar and sweet bubblegum pop songs. It was great.
But it was no time to think about your tall, red-headed crush. You had much more pressing issues with the large coffee crowd in front of you. It was rush hour, and since you were scheduled for tonight's shift, they asked if you wanted more hours for today since they were training someone new.
Obviously, you had agreed.
You had forgotten the horrors of rush that included sleep-deprived, caffeine-infused insanity of students coupled with the ever-demanding adults with jobs that they very much needed to return too. It was always horrific.
But you for sure never expected to see your crush before you.
“Kiri!” you smiled, the smile on your face was one of pure exhaustion and joy of seeing your friend crush. Your gaze quickly dropped away from him, your eyes returning to the paper cups you held, writing in their orders and name as quickly as you could. “How can I help you?”
Kirishima visibly gulped, and you froze a bit before setting down the large order on the counter for your coworkers to eventually get to. You knew by the pile-up on orders you would be switched out with the new hire after Kirishima and the person behind him.
“I, uh, I need to ask you something!” Kirishima spoke sharply, his arms stiff at his side. His usual kind and gentle smile on his face is mechanic and dull. He was… he was sweating? Pity filled your stomach; maybe he had done terribly on a midterm.
“Do you need a new coffee rec?” you immediately ask your mind on the set menu behind you, trying to come up with a coffee just sweet enough for the charming man in front of you. “You haven’t had a drink in a while, I don’t remember what you had last, though.”
“No, not that! I have a… well, I have a confession!” Kirishima tries again, his body somehow becoming even stiffer as he nods his head in growing speeds. “Yup! A confession!”
“Would ya hurry it up, kid! Some of us got work to get to!” came a crabby voice from behind Kirishima, and you winced, looking past your crush to the eldering man who looked like he was eating and shitting stress every day for the past three years.
“Sir, please calm down, it won’t take too long,” you frowned, not at all happy with the sheer impatience of the customer. You turned back to Kirishima, an apologetic look on your face. “But a confession? Okay, well, actually… I have one for you as well!” Maybe you could get yourself to confess you liked him?
But the old man’s interruption seemed to have calmed Kirishima down significantly, who snapped out of his haze.
“Sorry, sorry!” he apologized to the man behind him, bowing deeply for his troubles before facing you again and laughed. The palm of his hand hit his forehead as he groaned lowly. “Sorry, this is so unmanly of me, y/l/n! I mean, I shouldn’t even be doing this because you’re working, but I finally… I just…”
He trailed off, and you found it impossible to follow his train of thought, something you weren’t too bad at doing.
“Just what?”
It was with that the world seemed to still.
The noise of the busy coffee shop, the hustling of your coworkers, the chattering of the studying students, and business calls going mute as you stared up into Kirishima’s red, comprehensive, honest eyes.
“Well, it’s just that I, um, I--”
“Listen, kid,” the man behind Kirishima snapped at him. “I have twelve minutes to gather my drink and make it back to my meeting with my executive board. And you’re holding up the damn fucking line! Make up your mind on what coffee you want, because you’ve been in this line with me for almost ten minutes, order it and pay! Let’s get moving!”
“Sir!” you gasped, horrendously mortified a customer was acting like that! “That’s incredibly rude! He hasn’t even been here for a minute!”
“It’s actually been three!” he sneered.
You opened your mouth to retaliate, not at all positive if it had been three minutes because by god did you get lost in Kirishima’s eyes.
“No!” Kirishima interrupted you before you could begin, and you looked up at Kirishima, who looked like a kicked puppy, and that sent your heart into a whole series of palpitations you didn’t know would happen with him. “It’s fine, sorry, I got worked up… um… one of my best bros likes his coffee black, and well, I like it now too. A regular black coffee, to go…”
You didn’t even get a chance to say anything, Kirishima slipping the exact amount of money for the drink before disappearing into the crowd.
Your sight narrowed when it befell onto the old man who looked proud of himself, “Finally! Now, let me see what you guys have! I don’t know what I want!”
F O U R
Kirishima was late.
So late, so very, very late.
He checked his phone for the time yet again, somehow praying that in the last time he had checked his phone (which had been three seconds ago), the time hadn’t shot forward by ten minutes, and by the spirit of god had maybe, possibly rewound by ten minutes. He only hoped that he wouldn’t show up too late today; he actually needed something with caffeine to keep him awake today.
But he saw the coffee shop straight ahead, the small white light by the front door still buzzing and bright with the illuminated: OPEN! sign. Kirishima barreled through the front door with now practiced and known strength, his forehead sweating profusely, and his heart hammering in his throat.
“I’m… here!” he panted, his eyes finding yours as you were cleaning up the counter with a disinfecting liquid and cloth.
He had seen you yesterday, but still, seeing you at the counter, your gaze on what you were doing was like an arrow to his lungs. He looked at you in his personal slowed downtime, the way that the halo of frizzy, curly, flyaways from your hair gleamed softly with the backlight, the warmth of your skin, the gentle flutter of your eyelashes as you looked up, and he was met with the depth pool of your warm eyes.
Beautiful.
His eyes fell onto your lips, and noticed they were moving ever so slightly, and he realized that he couldn’t hear what you were saying.
All the tables had been wiped down, the chairs by the table turned upside down, laying on the tabletops. The floor still streaked with what was definitely a mop, and guilt bubbled in his stomach. You were closing up, and by the looks of it, were nearly done as well.
Kirishima paused, he was here one minute before closing, and he froze. The heavy wooden door closing behind him with an awkwardly loud thud that only seemed to thunder in his ears as the world finally caught up.
“―anything?”
Kirishima blinked, his cheeks exploding with heat.
“What?”
He hadn’t heard you utter a single word.
He watched the way your lips pulled into an endearing, yet slightly exasperated smile, your eyes rolling.
“Did you want anything?” you repeated, hands placed on your hips in a taunting, near commanding way. “Coffee’s still on the pot, so if you want anything, let me know!”
“Did you already clean up?” Kirishima asks, his eyes falling to the floor to find the different wet streaks on the tile and avoid them if his shoe was dirty. He stops when he sees the cleaned and cleared coffee counter, and guilt floods him. “It looks like you’re mostly cleaned up; I don’t want you to get things dirty again, it’s okay.”
“It’ll take me five minutes tops to clean back up!” you retort, hands already moving to grab a to-go cup for him to have.
“No, no!” Kirishima exclaims, moving back towards the door as fast as he could. He didn’t want to cause you more work, and if anything, he would just wait for you to leave the shop, and he would simply walk you back to your apartment! That seemed like the more manly thing to do, right? “It’s okay! I’m okay! I’ll live without a cup!”
You snorted, slamming the cup onto the counter with definitive intentions, “Don’t be ridiculous, coffee addict!” you pointed to the spot before the cash register, pen in hand as you readied to write down his order. “Come. Don’t be silly! Can you turn off the open sign for me, though! What do you want?”
“I feel bad,” Kirishima frowns, turning off the neon light per request before turning back towards you. His hands stuffed into his pockets. “You don’t have to do this.”
“No, I don’t have to,” you say with a grin and a roll of your eyes. “But since I’m the reason your addiction is a thing, I’m more than happy to deal with the consequences, Kiri.”
There’s a beat, and Kirishima walks to the counter, his lower lip jutted out in a small pout, but the energetic smile painted on your lips melts his pout into a smile immediately.
“What do you suggest?”
“Café de Olla.”
His face scrunches at the so, very not Japanese words that come from your mouth.
“Cafe de la what?”
He watches your smile brighten by a tenfold, enjoying the way your eyes easily glitter with your mirth as you turn away from him.
“Café de Olla,” you repeat again, and he can only assume it’s Spanish. “It’s a Mexican coffee, that one of the transfer students we hired from Mexico introduced us to!” Kirishima watched as you went to a small pot of coffee, put a cleaned ladle in, and eventually poured in a slightly steaming cup of dark coffee. “I can’t remember the ingredients, but the main one is cinnamon! I know you like cinnamon, and since you’re a big boy black coffee drinker now, I think you’ll like it!”
Kirishima missed the teasing look on your face when you placed the truly dark coffee in front of him.
“Um,” Kirishima nervously laughed, staring at the cup of dark liquid before him. He hated black coffee. “Are you… are you gonna put any sugar or milk in it?”
“Nope! Drink up, handsome!”
Kirishima whimpered at both the nickname you had been calling him as of late and the coffee before him. Eventually, he picked up the warm cup, not at all deceived by the warm, sweet aroma of the cup of coffee in his hand ― the black coffee had smelled sweet too. Not one to back down, especially as you were in the process of cleaning up for the day, he took a hesitant, gentle sip of the coffee and froze.
Despite the bitter, dark persona the steaming cup gave, the liquid was sweet.
Very sweet.
It was light in its spice, warming him gently, and giving him a world of flavors he hadn’t been aware of. He drank the rest of it eagerly.
“Good, right?!” you exclaimed excitedly, having caught onto what Kirishima already knew to be his unmistakable likeness. “I wasn’t too sure of it at first either! I mean, I don’t really dabble with straight black coffee, but this just hits differently!”
Kirishima placed his sample down, the back of his hand rubbing his wet lips, his smile wide and excited. He couldn’t believe he actually liked a cup of coffee! “That was SO good, fuck! I didn’t think I was going to like that! Can I have a cup of this?”
He watched as you nodded your head excitedly, more stray pieces of hair falling out of place, framing your face even more as you grabbed the cup and made due to filling it up. Kirishima watched you the entire time you filled his cup up, his fingers blindly holding his bills of cash to give to you.
‘I’m going to do it,’ he thought as you placed a lid on the cup.
‘You got this!’ he encouraged himself as you walked over, handing off the warm cup into his hands. He softly smiled at the feeling of your warm, soft fingers brushing familiarly against his own.
‘DO IT!’
“Y-Y/l/n―”
“Babycakes, are you done out here?!” a voice hollered, and Kirishima stilled when a face emerged from the back. “I’m exhausted and ready to go!”
He watched as a tall girl with green eyes and brown hair emerged from the back room, her arms stretched precariously over her head, stepped into the bar. And the world slowed when her arms quickly enveloped you.
It was then that he remembered what you had said yesterday. The way that your face morphed from apologetic to bashful, the fluster in your eyes, and the way you bit your lip nervously as you said you had something to confess to him… was she… your confession?
“Ami!” you spluttered, and Kirishima watched the way the girl who was draped over your body, much taller than you were, smile at you endearingly as you, in your fluster, failed to get her off. “Kirishima ― a customer is here!”
The word customer echoed like a bell in the world's deepest cave in Kirishima’s ear.
He was just…
He was just a customer, after all.
His smile faded from a genuine one to a phony one as he watched your coworker/girlfriend fight you on showing affection, and eventually, you won.
“S-Sorry about that!” you stammered, trying to fix your outfit, your hair chaotically was undone. His throat nearly sealed off when your pristine eyes locked back up his; he felt light under your gaze, but oh, so, cold. “You were saying?”
“Just… um, thank you!” Kirishima mustered a feeble laugh, his hand grabbing the coffee in his hand, and without so much as a goodbye, he left the coffee shop. Your echoing salutation doing nothing but making him nauseous as heartbreak overtook him.
F I V E
The last time you had seen Kirishima, you served him the café de olla during that night, which was weeks ago.
By weeks you meant nearly two months; finals season had just finished.
Despite your obvious disappointment in not seeing the one person you were enamored with, you reasoned with yourself with every disappointing redhead who would enter the coffeeshop that you had never asked for his phone number, and he was an engineering student. He had to be busy.
Even if he wasn’t busy, you tried to reason, your brow set in a knit position as you washed the ceramic cups in the sink, he had every reason to never show back up again. He wasn’t your boyfriend or anything…
Thankfully, you heard the all too familiar sound of the front door being opened, and now with new company policy, you called out in greetings.
“Welcome!”
You quickly patted your hands dry on your apron, knowing that your coworker was on break at the moment, and turned to the entrance of the shop, and froze.
It was an all too familiar head of bright red spikes.
“Kiri!” you exclaimed happily, rushing over to the register with a bright, wide smile as you restrained yourself from flinging over the counter and hugging him tightly. Of course, that would have been both unprofessional and probably pushing the boundaries of your friendship/one-sided affections. “It’s been so long, how are you?!”
Kirishima stood on the other side of the counter, his hands shoved into his blue hoodie pocket, his eyes for the first time ever almost empty, the smile you knew he wore almost religiously, nowhere to be seen. In lieu of the smile, were lips pressed into a stout line, his face puckered just slightly enough as if he had smelled something sour moments before.
What was going on?
“You okay?” you ask, your once outstretched arms retracting into yourself, seeing that he was not reciprocating your movements. Your head tilted. “Did something happen?”
“Yeah, Ei,” came a new voice. “Is something wrong?”
You almost startled when a girl with curly, pink hair seemed to appear from behind Kirishima. She had eyes of liquid gold, and a teasing smile on her face as she nudged Kirishima. “What’s going on?”
Your stomach flips in unwelcomed jealousy, your teeth biting the inside of your cheek in hopes that the girl wouldn’t catch on.
When the seconds felt like minutes of silence, the girl merely sighed, her attention focusing onto you with a look of slight mischief.
“Please excuse my friend―” you relax with the f word― “we’ve been friends since grade school, and he’s never been like that! Maybe he caught a bug during breakfast?”
“Mina…” Kirishima spoke softly, not quite a warning, not quite a whine.
“You must be the famous ‘y/l/n,’ I’ve heard so much about you!” the girl ― Mina ― exclaimed excitedly, her hands grabbing yours while nodding excitedly. “When I heard that Ei hadn’t gone for coffee in so long, I obviously had to force him to come! That and he totally made one of our friends throw away my coffee, and I need the coffee in my bloodstream to survive my dumb classes!”
The one-sided tension between you and Mina expelled quickly.
“Kiri hasn’t been here in a while, but I’m sure he’s got his reasons,” you defend your crush, your smile soft as you traded your locked gaze on Mina to look at Kirishima, who weakly, barely, horribly returned the smile. “But I can definitely help with the coffee! What can I get for you?”
“Good question…” Mina sighed, her eyes studying the menu with practiced skill.
Eventually, Mina ordered a chai tea latte with an oat milk substitution, a pump of caramel, and two shots of espresso. She squealed with delight when you placed her order in front of her, and maybe had you not been excited to get Kiri’s answer, you would have noticed the way his friend strategically walked towards the door to give you two your space.
“So, how can I help ya, handsome?” you ask, your smile back to full power, although a bit shy, unaffected by the brick wall of a man before you. “We’re out of the café de olla right now, but if you don’t mind waiting fifteen minutes, I can make you a fresh batch!”
That’s a lie, the pot of Mexican coffee is still completely filled, ready for Kirishima should he want it. But you were selfish; you were trying to get him to stay longer.
“Nah, that’s okay,” Kirishima shakes his head. “I don’t wanna bug ya. I’ll just take a caramel latte, no worries.”
Disappointment rams through you, but you try your best at hiding it.
“Oh, okay! I’ll get that started for you!” you try to chirp, grabbing a to-go cup and beginning the relatively short task. “How’ve you been?” you ask, trying to initiate old conversations.
“Good.”
“Oh, that’s good to hear! How were your finals? Mine was terrible! I had a professor who forgot what time section we were, so not only were we given only thirty minutes to finish the exam, but there was no compensation for his mistake!”
“Wow… that sucks. Mine were fine.”
“Nothing crazy happened?”
“No.”
“Um, okay… well, did you see that the animated Crimson Riot movie is out?!” you ask, pathetically hopeful that the biggest conversation card you held right now would give you something better than these simple, halfhearted responses. The movie had had no promos, just a message from the local theaters that it had been made and to come and watch it.
“Yup.”
…
“Oh, that’s cool! I just found out this morning when my dad called me! I’m not near home, so I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come and watch it with me?”
You froze. Was that a date you had asked him out on? It was, wasn’t it?! Your face exploded with heat, your fingers trembling as you poured the finished hot coffee into the cup.
“...I’d rather not.”
Oh.
“T-That’s okay! I’m sure I can find a friend or something to go watch it with me… or I’ll just wait until a holiday to see it with my dad… if it’s still out.”
“Hopefully, it’s still out by then,” Kirishima muttered, his face refusing to look at you, his eyes buried into his wallet as he handed you the change for his drink. “Thanks.” he rushed, grabbing his cup and turning on his heel.
“What’s wrong with you?” you manage to ask before you can keep your mouth shut, but you can’t help it. Your chest aches with his dismissal, with every sentence he spoke that horribly and effectively shut you down before you even had a chance. In the end, it seemed that your hurt feelings won out your need to be polite. “Did something happen? A-Are you okay? Did I do something?”
Kirishima freezes in his path.
“No, nothing happened.”
That was not the answer you were hoping to get.
“Then why are you acting like this?” you ask, your voice bordering a desperate plea for an answer.
For the past many weeks, you had never once thought that he had been avoiding you, ignoring you. You thought that maybe he had just been busy with his personal life, too busy with school and work to spare his free time entertaining you at work. But even if you were disillusioned with your admiration and feelings for him, you knew the two of you were friends. You had to have been friends!
Silence.
“What’s going on?” you ask again, your voice feeling small and weak.
“Nothing,” Kirishima reiterates, his head turning so you both looked at each other through the corner of his eyes. “Nothing happened, I just… couldn’t show up.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like being around you, not anymore.”
Those words wash over you like freezing water; they’re harsh, cruel, and mean. His face twisting up as if he was some snarling, upset animal. He didn’t want to be here, his face screamed, he felt like some cornered, caged animal.
Muted anger and heartache wash over you, your head nodding numbly as you laugh humorlessly. You had been the problem.
“Sorry for… for making you feel obligated in showing up,” you whisper, your soul feeling as though it was leaving your body, your face twisted in the horribleness in his words.
I don’t like being around you, not anymore.
He wasn’t even apologizing… he’d meant it… didn’t he?
Kirishima moves to walk away, his eyes glazed over similarly to your own, but you’re not done. Not quite yet.
“You know,” you manage to speak out, your voice starting off paltrily, an almost chuckle tickling the back of your throat, humming deeply in your chest. He stops. “This entire time, you always boasted about being ‘manly’… about being chivalrous and a decent human being. For the most part, I’ve always agreed and thought that you were manly, chivalrous, and a more than decent human being but now… I can’t believe you. You really came all this way after two months of avoiding me to tell me that you would never be showing up again? That the reason for you not returning was because you’re sick of me?”
He’s silent for a bit, and it's then you notice the tears falling down your face, “Thought it was manlier to tell you I wasn’t coming back then to stop showing up without a reason.”
“You already did that!” you snapped, suddenly piercing, thundering anger running through every cell of your body, raising the hair on your body. “You’re being a complete fucking dick now, Kirishima! For what? At least before I thought it was because you’re busy, but no, you just had to tell me it was because of me! Oh my god?! To think I have a crush on you?! That I was ready to confess to you the next fucking time we had a moment together?!”
You felt hysterical, his reasoning jumbling and twisting in your mind, not at all feeling coherent, and your blazing feelings that were now biting you in the ass… you wanted to make him feel guilt most of all. With tears falling bitterly, angrily down your face, you stared at Kirishima. He was finally facing you, looking you dead on with emotion-filled eyes and a gaping fish mouth ― opening and closing pathetically.
“Get out,” you spoke with a serenity you were not quite feeling, your finger thrust toward the front door.
“Y-Y/l/n―”
“I don’t want to hear it,” you laugh bitterly, no longer wanting to have whatever it is that he wanted to say.
He was just a customer, not a friend, only a customer.
You didn’t need to be his friend anymore.
“Get. Out. Now.”
You didn’t wait for him to leave, turning on your heel, you walked to the backroom, not daring to return to the front until he left.
You’d forgotten how much rejection hurt.
O N E
Whoever said heartbreak was healed with a wild night out, a pint of ice cream and crying had clearly been built differently from you.
One wild night out with your friends, two pints of ice cream, and thirty crying sessions later, you were still sulking as you simply existed. You weren’t even sure why you were overreacting either?! He had been a crush, not a boyfriend!
Lord save you for whenever an actual reciprocated lover dumped you, you were probably never going to recover. Still, you couldn’t let it affect you all that much; you were still going about your day as you usually would, just… sulking.
“You’re a blessing in my life,” your coworker sighed as she came out from the back, her hands moving to release her hair from her bun, her purse slung against her chest as she continued to thank you. “I promise you the next time we work together, I’ll clean up on my own!”
You shake your head, waving her off as you dried some of the dishes lying about.
“We aren’t busy, and there’s no one here, I’ll clean up just fine!” you laugh, glancing over your shoulder to look at her. “Just buy me a pastry tomorrow or something. I’ve closed on my own many times, I’ll be fine! There's no coffee demand this late at night anyway!”
“Fine! I won’t forget! But don’t complain if there’s more than one pastry!”
“Oh my god, LEAVE!” you yell, blindly pointing at the door for her to leave, and you hear her resounding laughter as she finally does go.
“Oops, sorry, welcome and excuse me!” you hear her exclaim as she steps out, and you turn around, already knowing that it’s a customer.
Taking your coworkers' welcome as the company greeting, you merely shouted out that you’d be right with them as you finished washing ― you were almost done with them anyways. Finally done, you turned around, eyes on your thighs as you dried your hands on your apron.
“Alright, how can I help…” you froze when you caught sight of familiar, warm red eyes. “...you.”
Kirishima.
He looked at you with blushing, puffed cheeks, his eyes full of mixing, swirling emotions that you probably couldn’t handle to hear (especially if he had come to yell at you). You don’t know what to do, merely looking at him before sighing.
“The usual?” you ask, moving to get things as smoothly and effortlessly as you could (you had been yelled at for your emotional outburst by your boss).
“Uh, actually, no. I’m okay,” Kirishima spoke up as soon as you pulled out a paper cup, and you stopped, looking at him with your best attempt at dull, emotionless eyes.
“What can I get for you then?” you try again, hating the way that you want to smile at him, to pretend that nothing happened two weeks ago; that this was his first time back.
“I have to confess something,” Kirishima states, his fingers fisting into his ridiculous mismatched athleisure clothing. “I actually really, really, really hate coffee…”
You blinked.
You hadn’t expected that confession.
“Um, okay? Well, then can I make you some―”
“I’m not quite done, sorry,” Kirishima apologized, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in his embarrassment. “I hate coffee, and I don’t like being dishonest, but really, I feel like I’ve been lying to you this entire time.”
“...what?”
“I told you at some point that I had come into this shop by coincidence, but that’s not true! I’ve been passing by for months before stepping foot into here! I had always seen you working through the front window, and you just… you captivated me from that very moment, but I’ve been too weak, nervous, and totally unmanly and could never build up the courage to come in! It took me a year to build up the courage to come in ― which is why I nearly broke the front door that first day! I was so nervous about messing up; I just overexerted my strength!”
Kirishima laughed, his hands raking through his spiked hair, and you could only stare at him as the gelled hair began to fall under his ministrations.
“See, the truth is, I’ve liked you for a long time. Like a long time. And then, when I came in, and we became friends, I only fell for you even more, and I’ve been trying to work up the courage to confess to you! But every time I tried, something bad happened! Like the grouchy old man in the line, how you got sick and couldn’t work! But a true man doesn’t give up until it’s over… and I thought that girl who was hugging you and kissing your cheek that one day was your girlfriend, so I gave up! But the thing is, I was a coward, so fucking unmanly that I couldn’t be around you without you being mine! And so I left because it hurt… but it hurt not being around you, so Mina brought me here! But then you said… you said you liked me back, and unless you’re in a polyamorous relationship, there’s no way for you to have said feelings and confess them to me like that!”
He stopped, his breath frantic, panting, and you could only look up with him with a mirrored breathing pattern despite your quietness.
“I’m here because I’m tired of being weak and unmanly. I’m here because I have deep feelings for you, and I want to ask you out!”
You’re silent for a bit, the temerity of his words loud and clear in your ears, ringing with the need to be addressed. For the first time since he had walked out of your life for the first time, a warmth bubbled in your chest.
“You know,” you whisper, your eyes locked with his, the tears in your eyes freely showing. “This coffee shop does, in fact, have tea?”
“Wha―?”
He doesn’t have the chance to finish the curious ask, your hands grabbing his shirt and bringing him close, his nose brushing against yours but your lips hovering below his own.
“Can I kiss you?” you whisper, your eyes falling to his lips for a second before coming back to his eyes that shone brightly, vividly, excitedly.
“Please?”
Your lips found themselves pressed against his, and the two of you stood there, leaning against the counter by the cash register. Lips passionately, smoothly, deeply pressing against one another as electricity traveled slowly down your spine as his hands pressed against your ribcage. When you pulled away, his eyes fluttered open after yours, and he had the brightest, dumbest smile on his face.
“Would you like to go see the Crimson Riot movie with me?”
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13. “i beg your pardon?!” / “then beg.”
A million gazillion years later.....
Steve was tired. He was exhausted. Meeting after meeting after meeting about statistics he didn’t understand, margins that made no sense, and something about something that was good for the company. He’d stopped paying attention about halfway through, unable to understand much beyond Sit there and look important.
Steve fucking hated it. Hated working for his father, doing nothing more than being a new fresh face to attract younger clients. He hated corporate life, hated wearing a fucking suit everyday, just… hated.
And now, this fucking barista was being such a fucking--
“What do you mean you don’t make them? You literally just made one for her,” he said, pointing at a redheaded young woman, who gave him the stink eye. Steve was too tired to feel embarrassed.
“Because she’s my sister and I’ll do that for her basic ass, but I refuse to make another pumpkin spice latte. It’s not happening,” the guy replied, attractive face warped with disgust. Steve stared at him, blinking, because like, he couldn’t be hearing this right. There was no way.
“You can’t just refuse to make a drink,” Steve said, tired and annoyed and fucking pissed that the barista had to be so fucking attractive. Made him feel tongue tied and made his palms sweat.
God, he just wanted to drown his sorrows in a sweet, froufrou drink that made him forget he was a corporate slave. Was it too much to ask?
“Well, you see,” the guy said, leaning on the counter. It made his biceps bulge a little and Steve couldn’t help but look, even if it was a quick glance. Guy was fucking sturdy. “Since I own this place, I can actually kinda do whatever I want.” His grin was sharp, bright, and teasing in a way that made Steve’s stomach do little flip flops. “So no, I’m not making you the shittiest, most basic drink on the planet.”
“For fuck’s sake, Billy,” the redhead snapped. “I don’t get why you’re so against it.”
“It’s literally just cinnamon and nutmeg!” The barista, owner, Billy replied.
“It’s just good!” Steve said. “It tastes like warmth and home and, I dunno, I just fucking like it, okay?” Maxine gestured at Steve like Exactly, movements aggressive. Billy looked back at Steve, raising an eyebrow.
“Well then, maybe I just don’t serve corporate dickheads,” he snapped. Steve blinked.
“I beg your pardon?” Because, like, he wasn’t wrong, but seriously? How was this place still open. The owner was such an attractive asshole--
“Then beg.” Steve’s eyebrows shot up as Billy tilted his head, tongue poking out between his teeth. His eyebrows rose in a challenge, posture relaxed and in command and Steve really shouldn’t have been so turned on by that.
“Oh my god,” his sister hissed, “Just make him the damn latte or give him his number. I don’t need to watch your weird mating ritual. I wanna get lunch.” Billy’s face went red and he glared at her.
“Shut up, Maxine, I’m not--”
“And you,” she said, turning to Steve. “All this over a pumpkin spice latte? There’s a Starbucks three blocks down. Unless you’re still here for another reason.” And, wow, wasn’t she fucking perceptive. Like she knew Steve walked in here when he saw those arms and curls, Starbucks be damned. Steve felt his face heating up, knew he was getting splotchy as his blush went down his neck.
“I, uh, I, uhm,” he stammered, eyes darting to Billy, who looked positively giddy, pressing both hands on the counter as he leaned forward, pushing himself almost all the way across.
“Give him your number so I can get a fucking burrito,” Maxine grumbled, stomping off. “I’m leaving in 2 minutes, Billy! Otherwise you can pay for your own fucking food!” The two of them were quiet in her wake, though Billy’s blue eyes openly ran up and down Steve’s frame. Steve coughed awkwardly.
“I wasn’t kidding,” Billy said, prompting Steve to tilt his head in confusion. “I’d love to hear you beg. Though it wouldn’t be over a coffee.” Steve’s heart beat so fast it almost hurt. He felt tingles all over his body, head to toe, and couldn’t help the nervous giggle he let out. Luckily, Billy seemed to find it cute.
“You’d uh, I mean, but I’m a corporate dickhead?” Steve tried. He’d just come for a coffee. But, well, a fuck wouldn’t be too bad either. Especially with this guy. Billy shrugged.
“I’m sure we can work past that,” he said. “If you’re willing, that is.”
“I think I might be able to,” Steve said, finally finding his footing. “If you make me a pumpkin spice latte.”
The eye roll was worth it. Especially when he walked out, sipping his latte, grinning over the number written in sharpie on the cup.
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Hickeys and Sharpies.
Pairing: Female!Reader x Professor!Sebastian. College AU. Warning(s): some light smut, cussing, age gap and fluff(?) Word Count: 2.2K words Summary: when a supposedly one-night stands ends up with a twist. Note: some 3am ideas came in mind, lmao. pardon me for being t h i s lame, hope you like this anyway!
Cursing for what felt like the hundredth time even though you just got up from bed, you quickly paced around the room to pick up the discarded clothes that are scattered on the floor. You glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table and frowned upon seeing that you are already a few minutes late for the first period.
Wearing nothing but your undergarments, you contemplated whether you should take a bath or run for class. Apparently, you still reek of alcohol, a bit of sweat and a bit of him. “Fuck it.” You muttered under your breath and went for the latter idea. You settled in wearing a printed over-sized shirt and denim pants, spraying a bit of perfume to try and hide the absence of a decent bath. You tried to comb your hair and fixed your appearance in front of the mirror. After a couple of attempts, you finally breathed a satisfied sigh and went on to attend the first period.
You didn’t want to be late, especially now that you are supposed to meet the new teacher for Linguistics. Throughout the trip to the campus, you couldn’t help but to visualize the things that had occurred the previous night, while trying not to mind the growing headache on both sides of your head.
Feeling reckless and adventurous, you and your friends decided to drink in a club that is a bit far from the dormitories, a bit far from the campus—to try and meet new people, and to try things out in other places. One of your friends recommended a certain place, and as you arrive at the front, you could already see the neon lights and other bright lights that seemed to shoot into the sky. You felt a wave of excitement in your gut as you entered the place; a crowd of dancing people drenched in sweat welcomed you, loud music boomed and reverberated from all places in the darkly-lit room. A friend immediately approached the bar and called all of you for a round of shots, tequila is always the best starter for a fun night, you thought, as you downed 3 shots of it. Quickly aiding the burn in your throat with a slice of lemon and salt that sits on the counter, you winced and closed your eyes as the familiar sensation caused by the alcohol slowly creep its way into your skin, and into your bones. Feeling a bit loosened up, you dragged one person from your group and headed to the center for a dance when one of your favorite songs plays. You swayed your hips and bobbed your head to the beat of the music. There were a couple of boys who started to dance around you yet you paid no mind, all of them looked wasted and shit-faced—you didn’t want that. After a couple of minutes, you approached the bar for another drink. Wiping the droplets of sweat that formed in your forehead, you asked the bartender for a tequila shot and fanned yourself using your hand to try and get some air.
“That dude right there wants to pay for your drink.” The bartender approached and handed you two shots of tequila, along with a slice of lemon and salt, like how you took it earlier. You glanced to the direction where he motioned and saw a man wearing black and tight sweater that obviously hugged his well-built body. You narrowed your eyes to try and get a better look, he certainly does not look like any college student. He was staring right back at you and raised his glass of beer, you mirrored his move and mouthed a thank you to him and drank the shot.
You entered the main entrance and checked for your schedule that’s in your phone, and started sprinting towards the room for your first class. Clearing your throat, you slowly opened the door in the back of the room and quietly settled into the seat on the farthest part of the room—however, everyone seemed to look at you despite of your efforts at trying to stay quiet upon entering the room, you even had your head down to pay some respect to the professor. Looking back at everyone, you couldn’t exactly decipher the expressions they have on their faces, they were simply looking, as if it’s the first time they encountered a student that is late for her class.
Then you stared at the front, where the professor stood, arms crossed on chest.
Jesus fucking Christ, you’ve got to be shitting me.
He didn’t try to stop the smirk that forms on his lips as he continues to stare at you, “Sorry I’m late, sir.”
“I was just discussing about the rules and regulations in the room, more specifically, how I do not encourage latecomers or tardy students.” He started to sit on the edge of his wooden table, your gaze dropped on his incredibly tight jeans that accentuates his thick thighs, your breath was caught on your throat because he knew where exactly you’re looking. “But I’m going to let you slide today, since you look like you had a rough night.” He continued, emphasizing the rough word and you felt your head spinning even more.
Everyone already stopped looking at you so you took that time to close your eyes and curse, again. Dropping your head low on the table, you mentally tried to remember the events again, as you try to come up with an explanation as to why you are stuck in a situation like this.
Once separated by a bar counter and a couple of tables, you and the stranger who bought you a drink somehow found a way to touch each other. You were suddenly back on the dance floor again, more loosened up than ever as you feel a pair of hands caressing your sides as he guides your hips and you just kept on swaying, you turned your back to him and danced harder, intentionally bumping your ass towards his groin and you heard how his breath got caught on his mouth, you smirked at him, feeling a bit more bold and confident, knowing you had that kind of effect over him. Reaching out to grasp a handful of your hair and tilting your head to the side, “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked and he didn’t need a verbal answer because you were already pulling his hand away and towards the exit.
You took out a notebook from your bag along with a black pen and started writing scribbles on the pages, momentarily looking up to the teacher and pretending to pay attention, but your mind is simply wandering away and into the memories from last night. You knew why his eyes always lingered on you longer, but you are always the one to break it off by drawing lines and odd shapes on your notes.
After a painfully long ride towards your dorm building, his impatience and growing desire was finally satiated as his lips crashed on you the moment your keys unlocked the front door. His hands were all over the place: one, it was placed on the back of your neck to press you more against him; two, he dragged it downwards to cup your breast; three, it was moving up and down on your sides while both of your tongues fight for dominance and power.
Deprived of air, he pulled away, and his eyes glistened with pure lust and desire under the dim lights of your room, “You’re wearing too much clothes.” He grunted, you pulled the hem of your dress upward and completely taking it off. He took a couple of seconds to stare at your body, drinking in your appearance.
You tried to pull his shirt away and you felt your thighs pressing against each other as you stare at his body, he had the most beautiful body you have ever seen and you knew you weren’t going to last long with him, you’d fall apart, almost immediately.
His lips found its way back to yours, with more force now and hunger, “I’ll make you feel so fucking good.”
Chewing on the other end of the pen, you looked outside and at the windows as you keep on reminiscing. You really tried to pay attention and to listen to him, but your gaze kept dropping on his smooth and pink lips, the way his arm muscles flexed whenever he raises it, and how he lick his lips from time to time while speaking in front of the class. Then, you remembered the bitten marks on your chest and a bit on your collarbones while you were wearing your bra and the shirt earlier. You kept on looking down at your groin as the vision of your physical connection flashes by in your mind.
It felt good to be on top of him while his hands grip on your hips tight, you swore it will bruise the day after but you didn’t mind. He felt good inside of you as he fills you up and you continue to pound into him, your fingers made its way to your bundle of nerves and started to touch yourself but he was quick to spot the move and he swat your hand away, replacing it with his own.
Go on, let it all out
Moan my name
Come on, baby, you’re doing so, so good
That’s right, keep on doing that, just like that
His deep voice whispered, grunted and moaned into your ear as you felt a familiar pressure forming in your abdomen. You were trying to keep your voice down, at minimal level, or else everyone residing on the same floor as you will know just how loud you are during sex. But he wasn’t helping at all, he wanted to hear you, and he was either muffling your moans with his full mouth kisses, or he is urging you to moan out loud.
After a couple of thrusts, praising and moans from him—you fell apart, with shaking legs and labored breathing, you reached your climax and he was still going in and out of you in a dangerously slow pace, riding out your orgasm, when his movement shifted and got too fast again, you knew he was chasing his own. You collapsed on top of him, the side of your face resting on his chest and you tried to recover, to grasp for air again, as he did the same. He assisted you and laid you down on the space beside him, you were about to clean up but he draped a blanket over you and snaked an arm right at your waist, it was a very comfortable feeling, a safe one even, despite of how he is just a stranger and you literally met each other a couple of hours ago.
He kissed one shoulder as he hug you from behind, “You did well tonight, darling. Sleep tight.”
The bell rang, signaling the end of the first period. You were quick to put your things away and shove them into your bag, ignoring the mess it would make on the inside of your bag, you didn’t care anymore, you just suddenly had the strong will to escape from this embarrassment.
“Miss? The one from the back.” You heard him call out, turning to his direction, you tried to know or to confirm if he was talking to you. And he was. With a sly smile on his face, “I need you to sign some papers here—attendance, since you were late.”
You swallowed hard, but continued to walk over him anyway.
You got into the wooden table and picked up the paper he was handing down, but you were surprised because it wasn’t a list of the class, there wasn’t any name printed on the sheet. It was a scratch paper, with words written in pencil.
Don’t go out yet, stay. Wait for the others to leave.
Your gaze immediately shot back to him but he was looking at the other students, bidding them goodbyes with the most polite smile he could ever give.
So you waited, until the last student got out.
“You didn’t send a text.” He started, with a hint of disappointment on his face.
Your mouth fell open, not quite sure what he meant, “What?”
He moved closer and reached out for your right arm, lifting the sleeve and exposing the skin on it. The way his fingers gripped you and how his skin felt hot against you sent shivers, but you looked at your own arm and you noticed the small numbers written with a sharpie.
“Oh.”
He smirked, “I’m surprised it’s still there, thought it got washed away.” He picked up his book and re-arranged the his stuff, “I could still smell the sex off of you.” Then it was followed by a chuckle, as he head towards the front door, about to exit.
“Call me when you want it to happen again, I’m Sebastian, by the way.” Were his last words before completely exiting the room, leaving you breathless and wide-eyed.
#au:drabble#sebastian stan#sebastian stan imagines#sebastian stan smut#marvel#school#professor#club#seb#sebastian x reader#thevodkadidthiswrites#smut#smut imagines#smut implied
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Sleepover
Group: SuperM / NCT Pairing: Lucas (Wong Yukhei) / Female Reader Words: 6,637 Tags: college!au, party time, drinking games, alcohol use, dirty talk, handjob, clitoral stimulation, vaginal sex, pet names Summary: You’re invited to a party by your best friend, Ten, at his apartment. When you get there, you discover the only people who showed up are some of his guy friends (the members of SuperM) and his roommate, Lucas; the one you’d been harboring some strong feelings for ever since he moved in. A night full of drinking games leads to you sneaking into Lucas’ room when everyone else is asleep, all thanks to liquid courage. A/N: I’ve been writing this freaking fic for months. There will eventually be a sequel, but it will not be featuring Lucas/Reader as the center point! I had a lot of fun writing the game section because it really showcased their personalities. Sometimes you just need to write silly filler. Anyway, I really hope y’all enjoy this! :D
“When are you getting back in town again?” Ten asked through the phone screen. He was sitting on his couch, eating lunch while video calling you. His phone was propped up on something, allowing him full use of his hands to enjoy the meal.
You were lying on your childhood bed, having visited your parents for a few days. You weren’t particularly concerned with the camera angle; it was just your best friend. “Tomorrow afternoon. I have Sunday off before I go back to work on Monday.”
“Hey, that’s perfect!” A new voice said just as someone popped their head into the frame. Ten’s roommate, Lucas, was all smiles when he laid eyes on you. “We’re having a party tomorrow night. You should come!”
At the sight of Lucas, you immediately sat up in bed and readjusted the phone to look your best.
Ten noticed, but nudged Lucas away to say, “Oh yeah, we’re having a party tomorrow night. You should come.” His monotonous voice lacked enthusiasm since his roommate spoiled the news.
“That sounds like fun,” you exclaimed, already looking forward to it.
Your friend swallowed a bite of food when a sly darkness came to his gaze. “By the way, you look great. Doesn’t she look great, Lucas?”
You narrowed your eyes on Ten, knowing what he was getting at, but only smiled as Lucas sat down beside him with his own plate of food.
“She always looks great,” the younger replied, shit-eating grin and all as he swept some of his hair out of his face. Then, he wasted no more time to dig into his lunch.
Ten wiggled his eyebrows at you, which only made you even more flustered.
“I gotta go, my mom’s calling for me,” you fibbed to get out of the conversation.
That made Ten suspicious. “I didn’t hear her--”
“See you tomorrow! Bye!”
“Hey, wai-”
You quickly ended the call before tossing your phone away and burying your face in a pillow. That little shit, you thought spitefully about your friend. He knew you carried a torch for Lucas, and never let the chance pass to tease you about it. Lucas was six feet of charming, goofy, raw charisma. He was undeniably handsome, and his smile was to die for. You were in deep, deeper than you ever let Ten know, though he probably figured that out for himself.
However, you couldn’t confront those feelings. What if you did pursue Lucas? What if things didn’t work out, and the awkwardness forced him to move? And then, Ten would have to go through the trouble of finding another roommate. You didn’t want to cause such a fuss. You could keep it in your pants if it meant helping them live in harmony.
Your phone jingled to alert you had received a new text.
Ten: Coward.
If only they could make it that easy on you.
•••••
You traveled home safely from your parents’, and immediately started getting ready for the party. You weren’t sure exactly what kind of party this was, so you opted with a smokey eye and rosy lip look while your clothes were trendy, yet casual enough to be comfortable in. The desire to impress Lucas lingered in the back of your mind...well, more like hovered over your back like a vengeful spirit ready to devour its next soul.
Okay, maybe that was a little dark, but it really was an ominous feeling, damn it!
All you wanted was to have a good time tonight, and if that good time included Lucas’ company, then everything would be perfect.
You made your way to Ten’s apartment around 8 o’clock that evening. You stood outside the door for a solid fifteen seconds, preparing yourself for knocking. Usually, you’d be inclined to stroll in without delay, but for some reason your anxiety was getting the better of you. This was just another party to hang out with some friends...and Lucas...Nothing to get so worked up about.
Knock, knock, knock.
You heard some footsteps approaching before the door swung open and Ten greeted you with a bright smile.
“Hey!” He said, giving you a hug before ushering you in.
“Hi!” You returned, immediately looking around the room. Your face fell a bit.
Sitting in the living room was a group of six other men. You knew all of them, though a couple you considered acquaintances. Mark and Taeyong were friends of Lucas’ you’d only met once before, while Baekhyun, Taemin and Jongin were the ones you saw on a regular basis with Ten.
You figured it must still be early. “Who else is coming?” You asked as you started to unzip your jacket.
“This is it,” Ten announced, motioning to the others.
You paused mid-zip. “Wait, wait, wait. I thought this was a party, not just some night for drinking with your boys.”
“Some people cancelled last minute, so it’s just us! And you! Yayyy,” he responded, sarcasm dripping from his words.
You sighed, feeling a little put-off by being the only girl in a group full of guys, but whatever, you’d roll with it. You finished taking your jacket off, along with your shoes while you were at it.
“Before you start mingling,” Ten began, stepping between you and your line of sight to the living room, “I’m going to take this as an opportunity to let you know something that I found out.” The sudden sinister smile on his lips made your skin crawl. It had to be something interesting for him to make that face.
“Spill,” you demanded.
Ten lowered his voice. “Lucas told Baekhyun who told me that Lucas wants you.”
You raised a brow. “‘Wants me’?”
“Yeah,” he continued, “and he says he loves your smile and you’ve got a nice ass.”
Peeking over Ten’s shoulder, you nearly stared holes into the back of Lucas’ head as he sat on the couch. “And?” You asked to see if there was more while returning your gaze to your best friend.
“Oh, and he thinks you need a man who knows how to dick you down.”
Your mouth dropped.
Ten giggled. “Okay, I added that last part in.”
You rolled your eyes and shoved him playfully. You were still wrapping your mind around this. “Why would Lucas tell Baekhyun that? He literally has the biggest mouth--”
“--Because, unlike us, Lucas doesn’t know better not to tell Baekhyun anything like that,” Ten cut in.
You glanced down at your fidgeting fingers. This felt kind of unreal. You choked back your hesitation to ask, “Does he really want me?”
Ten blinked. “Are you serious? That boy has been fawning over you since Day One.”
Shaking out the anxious energy from your hands, you took a deep breath and primped your hair a bit. If this was true, you had to make sure. Tonight.
You heard Lucas’ voice from behind Ten as he loudly said your name. “You made it!” He exclaimed, bringing you into a warm hug.
You breathed in his cologne and never wanted the hug to end. When he pulled away, much to your internal disdain, you smiled up at him. “Hey, Lucas,” you said before waving at everyone who was now staring at you from across the room. “Hey, guys!”
They all said their hellos as you walked into the living room with Lucas and Ten close behind you.
“Can I make you a drink?” Taemin offered, going to stand from the couch.
“She can do it her damn self,” Ten quipped as he took a seat on the floor by the coffee table.
You started poking his side with your toes, knowing it was going to bug him.
He swatted at your foot, but you moved too quickly for him to touch you. You stuck your tongue out at him.
“C’mon, I’ll make it for you,” Lucas said with a laugh. He placed one of his large hands on the small of your back and guided you towards the kitchen.
You ignored the silence that followed as everyone watched the two of you leave, but you were relieved when Ten started up the conversation with, “Which one of these drinks was mine again?”
“You should’ve gotten a Sharpie so we could write our names on the cups…” Jongin stated.
“That would have required thinking ahead,” Baekhyun teased, sipping at his own drink.
Mark chimed in, “You really don’t have a Sharpie? Anywhere?”
Ten sent a glare around the room. “Fresh out.”
Their discussion faded as your focus was overwhelmed with Lucas’ presence.
“Whatcha got a taste for?” He asked, motioning to the plethora of alcohol and mixers scattered across the kitchen counter.
You couldn’t really say ‘your dick’ without dying of shame, so instead you went for, “A shot of tequila.”
Lucas smirked and reached for a shot glass from one of the cabinets. “Anything else?” He questioned as he poured your shot.
You snatched it off the counter and tilted your head back, downing it. You hissed a bit before setting the glass down. If you got some alcohol in your system quickly, you would surely loosen up and relax more. That was your logic. Your eyes flickered to his as a flirtatious smile played on your lips. “Another shot of tequila?”
The low chuckle that came from his direction traveled straight to your core. “Don’t go too hard yet, we’ve still got games to play,” he informed you while pouring your second shot.
You tossed the tequila back once more. “But I like to go hard,” you couldn’t stop yourself from saying.
A look of surprise crossed his face, but you quickly turned away to mix yourself a cocktail. You cursed your dirty mind. Maybe he didn’t catch the innuendo in your words…
After you stirred your drink, you let Lucas--who was now awfully quiet--lead you back out into the living room.
Taeyong stood from the couch and offered you the seat. “The lady shouldn’t sit on the floor,” he declared, sitting down beside Mark.
Your cheeks flushed, and you wondered if it was from the gentlemanly act or the tequila.
Probably both.
You thanked Taeyong and sat between Baekhyun and Taemin. Lucas wheeled in the computer chair from his bedroom, while the others remained on the floor.
Ten clapped his hands together and rubbed his palms against each other. “Since this is it, how about we start a game?” He suggested.
“What game?” A few questioned simultaneously.
“I thought we could start with a game called ‘Most Likely,’” he continued. “Basically, we’ll go around in a circle. Each person thinks of a question to ask everyone in the room, like, who is ‘Most Likely to fall asleep first at a sleepover?’ Or ‘Most Likely to lose their phone while it’s on silent?’ Silly questions, dirty questions, all are welcome. Then, everyone points to the person they think are Most Likely to do so. Whoever has the most fingers pointed at them has to drink!”
“That sounds like fun!” Mark gabbed.
“Then, I’ll start!” Ten announced. “Everyone got their drinks? Yeah? Okay! Who is Most Likely to feel comfortable walking around naked?”
Baekhyun started to laugh. “Oh, we’re starting out dirty right from the get-go, huh?” When everyone’s fingers pointed in his direction, his smile faltered and he pouted. “Hey! Are you guys ganging up on me?”
“Are you really going to sit there and act like you don’t?” Jongin said in disbelief.
“W-Well, no, but--”
“THEN DRINK!” Ten and Taemin demanded.
Baekhyun begrudgingly took the first sip of the game before boasting, “Me next!” He tapped his chin in thought before asking, “Who’s Most Likely to eat an entire pizza in one sitting?”
Fingers gravitated to Lucas.
Without even arguing, Lucas raised his cup to his lips.
The next few questions went by with brief discussions.
You asked, “Most Likely to get a million followers on a social media platform?” Unanimously decided that would be Taemin.
Taemin asked, “Most Likely to become an evil mastermind and plan to take over the world?” Well, that was right up Ten’s alley, though it was agreed you’d be his minion.
Taeyong asked, “Most Likely to forget something at the grocery store if they don’t have a list?” He shot a playful glare at Mark, to which the younger apologized to his own roommate ‘for the thousandth time.’
Mark asked, “Most Likely to become a supermodel?” One would think it went to Lucas since he was so tall, but everyone agreed there was something about Jongin that would draw the eye in that sort of situation.
Jongin stared into his drink for a few seconds as he thought. “Most Likely to abandon their room because of a spider?” A smile crept to his lips as all the fingers pointed to you.
You narrowed your eyes on each person before defending, “Okay, first of all, when it’s a big spider and it disappears from my sight, of course I’m going to get the fuck out of that room!”
Baekhyun snorted. “Until someone else comes and finds it and kills it for you.”
“Remember that time you slept in your living room for five days because you couldn’t find that one spider?” Ten brought to your attention.
You glared at your best friend. “Go to hell.”
“We’ll ride down together, my little minion,” he cackled. “Now drink.”
You took a big gulp from your cup.
The game continued. Lucas asked, “Most Likely to spend an entire day playing video games?”
The vote had barely even come down to Baekhyun before he raised his hand. “I’ll take that crown, thank you!” He beamed, taking a drink.
You giggled. This was actually pretty fun.
“Okay, we’re back to me,” Ten announced, carefully picking out his next question. “Most Likely to become an escort?” He wiggled his eyebrows towards Taemin, obviously thinking everyone would choose him.
Ten didn’t expect the fingers around the room to point at him again. After more thought…they were probably right. "Okay, yeah, I can see that,” he started, “but listen, I have very expensive tastes. I just need a sugar daddy instead."
Laughs filled the room, but then Taemin chimed in, "You say that, but..." He glanced at Taeyong, who'd yet to have been picked for a question. "Who's most likely to be a sugar baby?"
Most fingers were directed at Taeyong.
Ten, who was pointing at himself, pouted, but ended up nodding in agreement. "Yeah. Yeah, I can see that."
Taeyong’s face flushed. “But why me?!”
Leaning over from his seat, Taemin jokingly grabbed Taeyong’s chin and squeezed his cheeks together. “You’re sweet, and who wouldn’t give money to that face?” He mocked, though laughed loudly as Taeyong slapped at his hand.
“Are you trying to say that I would take money from some old dude just because I’m cute?” Taeyong’s cheeks were blood red at this point. His flustered gaze was on the ground. You noticed that Ten couldn’t take his eyes off of him.
Baekhyun crossed one leg over the other, smirking over at the embarrassed man. “Who said it had to be an old dude? There are lots of women out there who’d love to have you around.”
You kept your gaze on Ten, picking up on the subtle twitch of his eyebrow when Baekhyun spoke about a woman getting Taeyong’s attention. Oh, so I’m not the only one with the hots for someone… You thought, stifling a giggle.
“You’d be crazy not to,” Ten butted in, finally tearing his eyes away from Taeyong. You knew your best friend, and you knew he wasn’t always one to act on his feelings unless he was sure of the other party’s attraction to him as well. He swirled his drink around in his cup. “Free money? Hell yeah.”
Taeyong finally sent a glance at your friend, a distant look of hurt in his gaze. “Nothing’s ‘free’, Ten.”
Ten couldn’t stop himself from poking a bit more fun. “Okay, so you’ll have to do a bit of literal ass kissing, but you’ll be living comfortably,” he said with a laugh.
You exchanged awkward glances with Lucas, and you immediately knew he caught on to Ten’s feelings as well. It may not have been obvious to anyone else, but you two were the ones he was closest with.
You brought your arm down in front of you, as if cutting the tension with a knife. “All right, all right, next question…”
A few more rounds went by before it came to Mark again. Like his roommate, Mark’s cheeks were also flushed, but you realized he was a bit drunker than the others in the room. His drink was almost gone, and if you remembered correctly, Lucas may have mentioned at some point that his friend was a lightweight. “Most Likely to pierce their dick?” Mark almost slurred.
Lucas motioned to you. “That’s not fair, she can’t answer that!”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Fine, pierce their ‘genitals’?”
“That just sounds even dirtier,” Jongin murmured.
Ten chuckled, “The dirtier the better, in my opinion, but it sounds like Mark’s the one who’s interested in it.”
“I never took Mark as being that kinky,” Baekhyun snickered.
Mark gasped and shook his head vigorously. He immediately regretted that. He lifted his hands to his temples, trying to massage the headache and nausea away.
“What the hell is he drinking?” You inquired, curious to what had him so messed up this early in the night. You looked around at the others, but froze when you realized Lucas was staring at you. When he quickly averted his eyes, you felt a flutter in your stomach.
Taemin snorted at your question. “I made him a drink; it must’ve been too strong for him.”
If Mark’s concoction from Taemin was that strong, now you were grateful that you made your own drink.
“Are you still okay to play?” Lucas asked Mark.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” the younger insisted.
“Then, let’s keep going,” Ten declared.
It was Jongin’s turn. “Most Likely…” He pondered for a few seconds. “Most Likely to have sex in public?”
Even Taemin pointed at himself. “What can I say, I like the thrill?” He rubbed the back of his neck innocently.
When the time came for Lucas’ next question, he leaned his elbows on his knees and looked around at the people in the room. “Who is Most Likely to be a pornstar?” His low voice sent tingles to your fingertips.
Such a dirty question from the man you liked so much. That was all it took for your mind to drift off at the thought of Lucas being a pornstar. You imagined him slowly taking off his clothes, and giving you ‘come hither’ eyes. He was so tall, you were sure he had to be packing. His hands would travel down his chest, his solid abdomen, eventually reaching the waistline of his underwear. The ‘V’ line of his hip bones trailing under the fabric.
“Hello? Earth to--”
You snapped out of your trance and realized everyone was waiting for your answer. You cleared your throat and absently voted for Taemin like everyone else.
“I’m the answer to all of these. Why am I the pervy one?” He puffed his cheeks out.
“Well, if the cock ring fits…” Baekhyun joked, making everyone start laughing.
Taemin reached over you to slap Baekhyun’s arm, but you ended up tickling him under his own arm. With a gasp, he sat back and gawked at you. “Excuse me, I’m sensitive!”
“Yeah, sure,” you giggled. Your eyes flickered over to Lucas.
He was watching you again, and you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy coming from his direction.
After a few seconds, you finally looked over to Ten to see him giving you a suggestive smile. You immediately cursed his existence as he asked the next question.
“Most Likely to sleep with a friend’s friend?”
Fingers from around the room, including your own, pointed to Ten, yet his and Baekhyun’s were pointing to someone else.
Lucas.
Mark burst into laughter. “Lucas?! Yeah, right! This goody two-shoes?!”
Lucas’ face turned red all the way to his ears. “Shut up, Mark. Taeyong, take his drink--”
“NO!” Mark shouted, suddenly downing the rest of the alcohol in his cup.
A moment of chaos broke out as Taeyong and Lucas leapt to get the cup, but it was too late, and everyone else was laughing hysterically.
Meanwhile, your eyes briefly met Ten’s. You glanced to Taeyong, back to Ten, and gave him a knowing smile. “Lucas isn’t the only one most likely, huh?” You whispered. That seemed to shut him up for a moment before you stood and went into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath away from everyone else, you were trying to keep your cool. The way Lucas reacted to that last question, the way he’d been staring at you all night, the way he gently touched your back earlier; Ten was right, Lucas liked you way more than you wanted to acknowledge.
You were ready to give in.
After refilling your drink, you returned to the living room.
Ten beamed at you. “She’s back! Let’s play another game! It’s called ‘Flip Cup’--” He paused, looking at the youngest in the room. “Mark should probably sit this one out, though…”
•••••
3 A.M.
The party had settled about an hour before. The guys were too drunk to go home, so Ten and Lucas helped set them up to sleep in the living room while you changed into the spare set of pajamas you left over here for situations like this. It was also obvious that you were going to stay in Ten’s room.
“I can sleep on the floor,” you had told him after he suggested sharing the bed. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
“...Are you sure?” Ten asked, purely confused.
You nodded, taking a pillow from the bed. You had a plan, and you were just drunk enough to have the confidence to do it.
Luckily, you were too wired to accidentally fall asleep, so you laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling for a while until you were sure Ten was passed out. When you finally built up the courage to get out of your makeshift bed, you carefully stepped over to the door and opened it. Turning your head, you took one final glimpse at your best friend, who was sound asleep, before closing the door. You could hear soft snores coming from the living room as you crossed the hall to Lucas’ room. You stared at the doorknob for a long while.
You had to get out of your head if you were going to do this.
Just fucking do it, you snapped at yourself. Grasping the handle, you twisted the knob and peeked your head into the room.
Lucas was curled up in his blankets, his head tilted to the side where you couldn’t see.
Ever-so slowly, you entered the room and locked the door behind you. It was now or never. Creeping over to his bedside, you lifted the covers and crawled into the bed. You waited a few seconds to see if Lucas would stir, but his steady breathing reassured you that he was fast asleep.
How did you want to do this? His body heat radiated under the blankets and you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up to him. Scooting over, you snuggled into his side and let your hand flitter down his bare abdomen to find solace between his legs. You praised his creator, who blessed him so, while you massaged his length through the sweatpants he wore. It soon twitched to life.
Lucas let out a soft grunt before stirring from his drunken slumber. He slowly turned to look at whoever was touching him, squinting through the darkness to lay eyes on you. You could see the confusion pass through his expression, as if he were wondering if this was some alcohol-induced wet dream.
You flashed him a sweet smile, resting your chin on his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” He quietly croaked, his voice pitchy before he tried to clear the grogginess.
You kept your voice down to tell him, “Ten said Baekhyun said you wanted me. Well, here I am.” You squeezed on his hardening cock, palming it a bit more firmly.
Lucas leaned his head back, sighing with pleasure. He didn’t know whether to curse or praise Baekhyun’s big mouth. A soft groan left him, his hips lifting to meet your hand.
You swallowed hard. There was something about the sounds he was making and the way he was moving that made you want to wreck him. “What exactly was it you wanted from me, baby boy?” You asked, gripping even harder onto him.
Your pet name sent a chill through his body. When he realized just how strong your grip was on his aching cock, trapped inside his sweatpants, Lucas knew you wouldn’t let him beat around the bush. “Everything,” he answered.
You raised a brow. “That’s awfully greedy, and very vague. C’mon, baby, tell me what you want from me?”
Lucas met your sultry gaze through the darkness. “You. I just want all of you,” he replied earnestly. “Since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Your face felt hot as your hand faltered briefly. “And you’ve kept that a secret? For months?!”
His hips moved to get some kind of friction on his length from your hand. He took a deep breath and nodded. “I thought it was obvious!” He defended before you shushed him.
“You need to be quiet. Everyone’s asleep,” you told him. Pulling the blankets back, you maneuvered yourself to straddle his waist and stared down at him while grinding down on his groin. “I want everything from you, too, Lucas...Let’s make up for lost time.” Your voice was soft, but your words were so sincere that you felt him twitching under you in response to hearing them.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you to say that,” he growled, sitting up to grab the back of your neck. He guided your lips to his and thrust his tongue into your mouth.
You whimpered, taking in every taste of toothpaste and lingering alcohol. You scratched your nails down his chest before playing with the hem of his sweatpants.
“Wait--” Lucas breathed, breaking apart from the kiss. He pulled your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside as he moved to kiss what skin was revealed of your breasts. His fingertips grazed around your waist and up your back, his touch hot and needy to get you naked as well. He managed to unclip your bra and bit down on the delicate flesh just above one of your nipples while he slipped it off.
Gasping at the sensation, your head fell back while your hips rotated down onto him. “I need you...” The whine slipped from your lips with a desperate yearning. Just hearing your words made him moan out in response, making your hand quickly cover his mouth. You hardly meant the words you were about to say, but you wanted to see his reaction. “We can’t do this if you’re going to be loud. Maybe I should go--”
The panic in his eyes almost made your heart burst with affection. He didn’t have a right to be this cute. “Stay! Stay!” He whispered against your hand. As he pressed his chest against yours, he nudged your hand away to fiercely capture your lips. You could feel in the way he held you, his nails now dragging down into the flesh of your back; he wasn’t going to let you go. You were hopelessly lost in his kiss.
As his fingers traveled lower behind you, they reached your pajama pants and dipped under the fabric to find you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Lucas’ hand slipped even further down to delve its fingers between your sopping wet folds. He let out a heavy breath against the kiss, dipping a tentative finger into your pussy.
Your eyes widened and you shuddered, your breathing just as feverish as you rotated your hips into his touch. His finger swirled around in your juices, and it was muddling your mind. You came into this wanting to wreck him, and suddenly it was very much turning the other way. You pressed your hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the bed and breaking from his kiss.
Lucas stared up at you with those bright, puppy-dog eyes. “What’s wrong?” He was nearly breathless.
That made you smile. “I just need more than your finger,” you admitted, helping him rid his sweatpants. When you were perched atop his naked body, you finally saw what you were getting yourself into. Well--more like what was going to get into you. Your mouth fell open a bit, but you quickly shook off your initial shock. Feeling it through pants and seeing it in all its glory were a bit different.
He tried to hold back a smirk, but the way you were looking at him only boosted his ego. He said your name, which snapped you out of your daze. “Is everything okay?” The mock in his voice only irked you.
You nodded, trying to ignore that smug little way he smiled up at you. Licking your lips, you started rubbing your warmth against his cock. As it grazed your clit, you lifted a hand to your mouth to keep back any noise. That felt really good. You grinded down even harder, bringing sighs of ecstasy from both of your mouths. Your hips had built up to a pace that eventually made Lucas growl and flip you over onto your back.
“No more teasing,” he declared, his cock prodding at your entrance. “I can’t take it anymore.”
“Then fuck me, baby boy,” you hissed as you parted your legs even more for him.
Lucas brought you into another kiss to stifle both of your moans as he finally guided his cock into you. It was a tight squeeze, taking a half-dozen minimal thrusts until he had sheathed most of himself inside. Your walls clenched down around him, and it was like he was in heaven on earth. He swallowed every sound that threatened to escape your mouth.
Your legs wrapped around his waist as you clung to his broad frame. When he withdrew his length and gave you his first full thrust, you quickly realized that staying quiet was going to be a real problem.
That thought also occurred to Lucas. He, however, had no intention of holding back anymore. Parting from your lips, Lucas gazed down to see a hopeless look in your expression and smiled. “Mm, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he purred, building up a strong rock of his hips.
You gasped and bit your bottom lip. Your eyes were glued to his. The more he thrust, the harder it became to stay sane. Clapping a hand over your mouth, you panted into your palm.
It was easy to hear the ragged way you were trying to keep some control over your sounds. You were so adorable. He had wanted this for months, and now that you were finally here with him, his bed wasn’t so lonely anymore. He prayed you were enjoying yourself as much as he was. “Is it good for you?” He murmured, nipping a kiss on your forehead.
“Yes,” you rushed under your breath, “yes, yes, yes!” Your hands wove themselves into his hair and attempted to yank him back down to kiss again.
Lucas lowered his head a few inches, just enough to graze your lips before he lifted it again. He waited for a whine of objection before he grinned at you. He sat backward on his haunches and steadily gripped your waist. He wet his lips as he studied the way your bodies met through the shadows. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know?” He said, not much caring for the volume of his voice. “I can’t get enough…” He leisurely drew his hips back, watching every inch of his dick as it pulled out to its head. He paused just a moment before sliding in as much as he could possibly fit inside you.
You nearly choked on air as he touched you so deeply. Your hands scrambled to grab onto his wrists, as if gripping onto them would get you some semblance of control over the situation, but no. Lucas was in control now.
The seductive smile that met you through the darkness of the room made it quite clear of that.
When you felt him start to work his hips in such a way that was making the head of his cock touch your sweet spot with every caress, you were frantic. You couldn’t hold back the moan that slipped into the air, and you knew the thin walls of the apartment would do nothing to shroud it.
His eyes danced. “Do you like that spot?” He asked with fascination. Giving his next thrust a bit more gusto, you groaned loudly before you could catch yourself. It finally occurred to you what he was doing.
Lucas seemed to have a determination to make you wake the whole freaking apartment.
Not him.
You.
If there was one thing Lucas should know about you by now, though, it was that you were stubborn. You glared at him. “You’re doing this on purpose!” You half-heartedly spat.
His thrusts halted again. “Doing what?” He asked obliviously.
“Trying to wake everyone up!”
He snorted. “Need I be the one to remind you again that YOU woke ME up?!”
You rolled your eyes. “I thought it would be kinky, but you’re just trying to make it awkward for everyone else!”
Running his tongue over his teeth, Lucas let those words hover between you before he abruptly pulled out of you.
Honestly, he could have leaned down, captured your lips again, and kept at it that way, but he came up with a different plan. You wanted kinky, after all… “Fine. You want to stay quiet?” You were in utter confusion before you felt his large hands flip you over onto your stomach. He roughly grabbed your hips and lifted your ass. “Bite the sheets,” he snipped, thrusting back into you with reckless abandon.
Doing what you were told, you clamped your eyes shut and gritted the sheets between your teeth as you struggled to remain silent. Lucas kept up the relentless pace for a few minutes until you heard him curse softly and his hips stutter.
You hadn’t quite built up to your peak yet, so the reality of Lucas meeting his end made your stomach drop.
Until you felt him grip onto your waist even harder and quickly pick the tempo up again.
You were shocked. “D-Didn’t you just come?” You asked over your shoulder.
Lucas wiped some sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, but fuck, you feel so good. I can’t stop,” he grunted, slamming into you. “You said you like it hard, right?”
His stab at what you said earlier in the night had you whimpering, “So hard! God, yes, fuck me hard!”
“Shut up, or else you’ll wake everyone up!” He put pressure on your back and pinned you to the bed. “Unless you want everyone to hear you panting like a bitch in heat over my cock…”
Your jaw fell open as you tried to quickly turn and snap at him, but Lucas had a hand over your mouth before you could say a word.
He leaned over your body to growl into your ear, “Tell me I’m wrong.” He drove his cock as deeply as possible into your clenching cunt. “Tell me you aren’t a writhing mess from me fucking you.” He didn’t give you a chance to answer before he pinched your nose. He continued bucking into you as he cut off your access to oxygen.
Digging your fingers into the sheets below you, it was a frantic attempt to stay conscious as your body finally broke down. Succumbing to his powerful thrusts, you climaxed just before you could black out. Lucas’ hand withdrew from your face in time to keep you awake. Your ears were ringing, you were seeing stars, and your pussy was convulsing around him.
With a groan of pleasure, Lucas rested his head on your shoulder as he came again.
There was a moment of silence that felt more like a high-pitched buzz as the sensation of release hummed through your bodies. Lucas slid out of you just as he slumped onto the mattress beside you. He couldn’t meet your eyes, so he covered his face with his hands instead.
All at once, you felt your senses return to you and you were aware of what was happening. Lucas had laid down and hid himself from you, and you had no clue why. Reaching out for him, you used what strength you had left to reveal the embarrassment on his face. “Are you okay?” You asked, nuzzling his jaw with your nose.
Lowering his hands, with your help, he gaped at you in disbelief. “I should be asking YOU that!” He exclaimed, flipping onto his side. He grabbed your head in his hands and peppered kisses all over your face. “I went overboard, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I said those things to you!”
You started laughing at his burst of affection. “Lucas, it’s okay,” you laughed, finally catching his lips as they went to peck your cheek. Getting lost in the kiss, you relaxed only when you felt his body start to settle down. Eventually, you pulled away and wrapped your arms around his midsection, burying your face in his chest. “I didn’t realize you were into that…” You said with amusement.
“I don’t know where it came from! You must have brought that out of somewhere in the depths of me,” he joked, lightly scratching his nails up and down your back.
“...I liked it,” you admitted.
A cheesy grin came to his lips, but you were too busy being smothered by his sculpted chest to know it. “...I like you.” His voice was low and sincere.
You giggled and pressed teasing kisses along his collarbone, emphasizing each word. “I. Like. You. More.”
His embrace tightened around you. “I doubt that,” he cooed, pressing a single kiss to the top of your head. A thought occurred to him. “...Ten is going to wonder where you went in the morning, and then what will we tell him?”
“The truth,” you stated simply. “You know, that we’re together now.”
“It’s about time,” he joked, resting his chin against your head.
“Yeah,” you agreed, “it is.”
•••••
Just as things settled down in Lucas’ bedroom, things in the living room were settling as well. Having roused from the sounds coming from down the hall, Jongin, Taemin, Baekhyun and Taeyong were staring at various places around the room with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Mark was passed out, snoring on a futon in the corner of the room. Apparently, he could sleep through anything when he was that drunk.
When it seemed like the main attraction was over, Baekhyun grumbled, “Finally!” And Taemin mumbled something along the lines of, “I can sleep now.” Steady breathing filled the room again.
Everyone else had fallen back asleep, yet Taeyong’s eyes were on the ceiling. He couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through his head. He glanced at the hallway to see a light dimly shining from underneath Ten’s door. He had to be awake too.
If you could be brave, then Taeyong convinced himself he could be as well. He crawled out of his makeshift bed and tiptoed over to Ten’s room. He could do this…
#lucas#yukhei#superm#wayv#nct#lucas smut#wong yukhei#superm smut#wayv smut#nct smut#ten#taeyong#baekhyun#jongin#kai#mark#taemin#shinee#exo#sleepover#kpop#kpop smut
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yet another one of these

#artists on tumblr#my art#art#digital art#i literally just saw these bright ass sharpies and was like#welp
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maybe it's all part of a plan (i'll keep on making the same mistakes), or Five Times Jonah Beck Tried to Woo Cyrus Goodman and One Time He Didn’t
Summary: “I asked him on a date, and he invited his two best friends, one of which just happens to be my ex-girlfriend,” Jonah almost laughed at his own misery. “I think he’s sending a pretty clear message, don’t you?”
Also read on AO3.
The arcade was loud and bright and Jonah was glad for the distraction. He dreaded the moment he stepped away from the bright chaos and was alone with his thoughts. Nothing about the day had gone according to plan. He was supposed to be at the arcade with Cyrus. It was supposed to be their first date. He’d even made an effort to dress up a little and style his hair (although he’d never been very good at that, so he doubted it looked very good), and then Cyrus had shown up with Buffy and Andi in tow, and suddenly it wasn’t a date anymore.
Or, rather, it never was a date. Jonah only thought it was a date. Which was stupid, really, because it wasn’t like Cyrus was ever going to see Jonah as anything more than a friend. Why would he? What did Jonah have to offer that Cyrus couldn’t get from any other boy?
The video game speakers crackled “GAME OVER” and the same words, in a pixelated red font, flashed on screen, pulling Jonah back into the moment.
“Another win for me!” Buffy flashed a smug grin, stepping away from her console and looking around for another open game.
“Congrats,” Jonah forced a smile, and followed her to an open racing game.
Buffy stopped short, and turned around. “Okay, Jonah, what’s wrong with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Where’s your competitive edge?” Buffy put a hand on her hip. “Beating your ass isn’t as fun when you don’t give it your all.”
Jonah shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I’m just not that into it today.”
Buffy raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Wasn’t coming to the arcade your idea?”
Jonah held back a bitter remark, choosing instead a simple: “Yeah.” Apparently, he didn’t do a very good job of keeping his tone neutral because Buffy’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates in shock.
“Were you just... surly with me?” She seemed to barely be able to get the words out for how bewildered she was. “You? Human sunbeam Jonah Beck?”
Jonah shrugged. “Today isn’t going how I wanted it to, is all.”
Buffy considered this for a moment before speaking. “This was supposed to be a date, wasn’t it?”
Jonah paled. How did she know that? “What?!” He coughed out.
“You were asking Cyrus out, weren’t you?”
Jonah felt his face start to burn. “How did you know?”
Buffy laughed. “You’re not exactly subtle, dude. I have eyes. I can see the way you look at him.”
Jonah rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t even matter.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, I asked him on a date, and he invited his two best friends, one of which just happens to be my ex-girlfriend,” Jonah almost laughed at his own misery. “I think he’s sending a pretty clear message, don’t you?”
Buffy pursed her lips. “I mean...maybe he didn’t realize what you were asking. What exactly did you say to him?”
“I said ‘do you want to go to the arcade with me tomorrow’ and he said ‘I’d love to.’”
Buffy sighed deeply. “Are you kidding me? There’s no way Cyrus knew what you meant.”
“Well,” Jonah crossed his arms. He almost took offense to Buffy’s tone. In his defense, the arcade seemed like a great idea when he’d asked Cyrus. They were a cold snap, and he knew Cyrus had been dying to play the new Alien Invaders game. “How do you propose I get him to realize what I meant?”
“You have woo him!” Buffy exclaimed. “Buy him flowers! Give him chocolates! And at least ask him to go to dinner and movie, not the same arcade we go to twice a month.”
Jonah nodded. “You may be right.”
“I’m always right.”
ONE: CHOCOLATE (KIND OF)
Jonah stood in his father’s kitchen, examining the wreckage. Flour and cocoa powder coated nearly every surface, egg white dripped off one of the counters, and blobs of dough speckled the white linoleum floor. But it was worth it for the tray of chocolate heart cookies that were cooling on the table. Buffy had suggested straight up chocolates, but a box of candy seemed… cliche.
So, here he was, preparing to spread red icing on homemade cookies. God, he thought, I’m pathetic. I baked him cookies for Valentine’s Day. Jonah hoped his baking skills would impress Cyrus, who had told him time and again that he was looking for “a man who could cook,” since he wasn’t the greatest in the kitchen himself. Plus, there was no way Cyrus could miss that it was a romantic gesture. The cookies were literally heart shaped.
He frosted them quickly, just a smear of red icing to fancy them up, plated them up, and went to change. He, Cyrus, Buffy, and Andi were meeting up at The Spoon, and Jonah planned to get there early to catch Cyrus alone before the others showed up. He arranged them on a paper plate, wrapped it up in red cellophane he’d bought at Michael’s, and tied with a silver ribbon he’d pulled from the drawer his dad’s girlfriend kept the Christmas paper in.
He arrived at The Spoon ten minutes before the meetup time, just as planned. Cyrus arrived 5 minutes later, as he always did, and Jonah couldn’t help the smile that lit up his face.
“Hey, Jo-Lamajama! Whatcha got there?” Cyrus greeted brightly, genturing to the plate of cookies Jonah had almost forgot he was holding.
“Chocolate heart cookies,” Jonah pushed them towards Cyrus. “I made them myself.”
“Wow!” Cyrus took the plate from Jonah’s hands with a bright smile. “Can I have one?”
“Of course,” Jonah nodded. “They’re for--”
Jonah was cut off by Andi’s voice. “Hey, guys!”
“Hey, Andi!” Cyrus swiveled. “Look, Jonah made us cookies!”
Andi raised an eyebrow at Jonah. “Oh, he made us cookies?”
Jonah pursed his lips and sighed. “Yeah. I did.”
TWO: FLOWERS
Jonah paced up and down the sidewalk outside of The Spoon so fast he thought he might wear down the cement. It was a crisp March day, and he was supposed to meet Cyrus for a basket of Baby Taters, but Cyrus was already ten minutes late. Jonah wouldn’t have minded too much, if it wasn’t for the bouquet of pink and white roses in his hand. He was trying not to grip them too tightly, for fear of crushing the stems, but his palm was sweating against the plastic film wrapped around the arrangement. He sighed, trying to slow his pace, trying to calm his frayed nerves. But he felt like such a fool, standing there, outside the café, alone, with a dozen roses. He glanced down at the flowers. They were so bright, so eye catching. Everyone had to know that he was waiting for a date who hadn’t shown. He could feel their pitying eyes on him.
At least they weren’t red. Jonah had made sure of that. He couldn’t risk coming on too strong.
He pulled his phone from his pocket. No new messages. And Cyrus was twenty minutes late. A worry began to build in Jonah’s chest. What if something happened to him? What if he’s hurt? What if--
“Jonah!” A voice pulled him from his thoughts, and not a moment too soon. Jonah smiled reflexively at the sound. Cyrus .
“Cy! I--”
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Cyrus puffed. “And...I’m sorry because I can’t stay long. I forgot, it’s my mom’s birthday, and I don’t even have anything for--Are those Queen Elizabeth roses?”
“Uh,” Jonah blinked slowly. He can identify rose varieties? Am I really surprised? Is there anything he can’t do? “Yeah, actually. How did you--”
“My mom loves those,” Cyrus bit his lip. “I don’t know if those are for, uh, anyone special, but my mom would love them, and it would totally save me.”
“Oh…” Jonah held them out to Cyrus. “Yeah, no, totally. Take them.”
“You’re the best,” Cyrus grinned, taking the flowers. “I so owe you one. Tomorrow, the Baby Taters are on me.”
“Anytime,” Jonah managed a small smile.
“I hate to leave when I just got here…” Cyrus hesitated.
Jonah gave Cyrus the best smile he could muster the energy to fake. “Go, go. Don’t worry about me. Tell your mom Happy Birthday for me!”
“I will!” Cyrus chuckled in that cute way that he did. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And then he was gone, and Jonah let his shoulders once again sag with the sting of rejection.
THREE: COFFEE
It was a spur of the moment decision really, something that he probably wouldn’t have done if he’d thought about it longer than 5 seconds, but he really didn’t. The idea came from something he saw online a few months prior. The sharpie came from the barista, who only gave Jonah a sideways look when he asked if he could borrow it. Then, Jonah picked up Cyrus’s iced caramel mocha and scribbled “Will You Be My Boyfriend?” on the side. He handed the pen back to the barista with a somewhat harried “thanks” and picked up his own chai latte.
He made it back to the table Cyrus had picked out for them, and slid the mocha towards the other boy before taking a sip of his own steaming beverage, trying to calm the nerves bubbling up in his stomach.
“I don’t see how you can drink something hot on a sunny day like today.” Cyrus nodded in the direction of Jonah’s chai, and picking up his mocha.
“It’s not like it’s 90 degrees, Cyrus. It’s just a nice, clear, late spring day.” Jonah spoke with a smile in his voice, but his eyes were glued on Cyrus as he sipped his drink, waiting for him to notice the words that wrapped around the side.
“God,” Cyrus rolled his eyes. “You are such a Hallmark card.”
“Shut up,” Jonah laughed, in spite of his nerves.
“Can you believe that Buffy and Andi both bailed on us today?” Cyrus set down his drink as he spoke, and Jonah’s heart sank. The sharpie ink had smeared. It was illegible.
Jonah shrugged in response to Cyrus’s words. It wasn’t weird. They’d never actually planned on coming. This was supposed to be another chance for Jonah to show Cyrus how the felt. He’d planned on just saying it, but then he’d seen the sharpie in the barista’s hand, and now, sitting across from Cyrus, with the perfect opportunity, his silence was deafening. When he finally spoke, all he could manage was a quiet: “Oh, yeah, that was kind of weird.”
Of course, Cyrus noticed. Cyrus always noticed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Jonah said too quickly. “I’m just tired.”
Cyrus gave Jonah and indecipherable look, and then seemed to decide that he really didn’t care to know, which Jonah thought was only fair. He couldn’t ask Cyrus to be a mind reader.
“So, when are you sending out the Space Otters schedules?” Cyrus gave Jonah a playful nudge. “I gotta start prepping the sunscreen.”
FOUR: SERENADE
Singing a love song to Cyrus might’ve been a stupid idea. Actually, it was definitely a stupid idea. But Jonah had to pick a song to perform for the summer talent show anyway, and according to Andi,he was being too subtle with his intentions. “You have to make it obvious to Cyrus, or he won’t get it,” she’d told him, with a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, “He’s not used to being pursued.” And Jonah had to admit, she had a point. He had to make it undeniably obvious that he was head over heels for Cyrus.
So, Jonah picked up the phone and dialed Cyrus’s number.
“I think I’ve picked out the song I’m gonna perform for the talent show.”
“Oh, cool. What song?”
“Why don’t you come over and I’ll play it for you? You inspired the choice, after all.”
“I did?”
“You bet.”
And then Cyrus was there, and Jonah was nervously adjusting his guitar, trying not to burn under Cyrus’s gaze.
“So, is it a pop song?” Cyrus asked.
Jonah nodded. “Y-Yeah.”
Cyrus grinned. “Cool.”
Jonah finished tuning his guitar and took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes.”
He began to strum, and as soon as the first few notes cut through the air, he knew there was no going back. This was one of Cyrus’s favorite songs. Jonah sang nervously at first.
When your legs don't work like they used to before
And I can't sweep you off of your feet
Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love
Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks
Cyrus gave Jonah a reassuring smile, his warm brown eyes urging him to keep going. Jonah pushed down his nerves and the voice in his head telling him this was a terrible idea.
And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways
Maybe just the touch of a hand
Oh me I fall in love with you every single day
And I just wanna tell you I am
Cyrus swayed along to the rhythm of the music, lifting his phone above his head like a lighter at a concert. Jonah would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so focused on singing and playing.
I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways
Maybe it's all part of a plan
I'll just keep on making the same mistakes
Hoping that you'll understand
Jonah held eye contact, hoping Cyrus would understand how true the words were, hoping he would know it was more than just a song. Cyrus swallowed as Jonah sang, his face suddenly becoming something more serious. More solemn. Fear knotted in Jonah’s chest.
So baby now
Take me into your loving arms
Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars
Oh darling, place your head on my beating heart
I'm thinking out loud
That maybe we found love right where we are
Oh maybe we found love right where we are
And we found love right where we are
Jonah finished, set his guitar down, and looked into Cyrus’s soft eyes. “So,” he started quietly, “what do you think?”
“I think it’s great!” Cyrus nodded brightly.
“Really?”
“Yeah, for sure,” Cyrus shook Jonah’s shoulder gently. “You’re gonna kill it at the talent show.”
“Thanks…” Jonah trailed off. Did he not get it? Or is this his way of letting me down gently?
“And it’s super sweet of you to pick a song that you know I like,” Cyrus added. “You’re a great friend.”
Jonah sucked in a breath through his teeth, “Right, yeah. No problem.”
FIVE: WORDS
It was nearly the end of summer. Jonah had been trying to get Cyrus to see how he felt for months, to no avail. Buffy was wrong, that’s what Jonah decided. It wasn’t that he needed to “woo” Cyrus, exactly. He just needed to be obvious about it. So, this time, he was going to use his words as clearly as he possibly could. He was going to play it simple. No flowers this time, nothing homemade, but a nice, simple, classic box of chocolate.
Cyrus wasn’t expecting him, but that didn’t stop Jonah. It just meant he had the option to chicken out, if he wanted to. And a part of him did. He paced in front of the Goodmans’ home for almost 30 minutes, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Maybe Cyrus knew exactly how he felt, and was trying to avoid confrontation by acting purposefully dense. Maybe Cyrus liked someone else. Maybe Jonah was about to make a huge mistake.
But then he heard Andi’s voice in his head: You don’t know until you try. You deserve to try to be happy, Jonah.
So he steeled himself and walked up the path to the door. His hand trembled as he brought it up to the door to knock. Doctor Goodman answered the door. “Oh, hello, Jonah!”
“Hello, Sir,” Jonah swallowed and shoved the chocolates behind his back. “Is Cyrus around?”
“Yes, he is.” Doctor Goodman leaned behind the door and called for his son. “He’s coming,” he told Jonah. “Good luck.”
“Wh--What do you mean?”
“With the chocolates you’ve got behind your back,” Doctor Goodman smiled gently, his dark eyes crinkling. “I could see you pacing from the kitchen window.”
“Oh,” Jonah felt his cheeks heating up. “Thanks.”
And then Doctor Goodman was gone and Cyrus was there in his Spiderman PJ pants, looking sleepy and adorable, and Jonah felt a little sick.
“What’s up?” Cyrus asked brightly.
Jonah shoved the chocolates towards Cyrus. “These are for you.”
“What for?”
Jonah took a deep breath, trying to swallow the butterflies in his chest before he spoke. “I...I really like you.”
“Oh,” Cyrus smiled and opened the chocolates, pulling one out. “I like you, too!”
Jonah’s heart stopped. “You do?”
“Of course!” Cyrus popped the truffle into his mouth. “You’re one of my best friends.”
“Right…” Jonah sighed. “Well, I should, I should go.”
“That was all?”
Jonah nodded, tight lipped. “That was all.”
PLUS ONE
The Spoon was unusually quiet, but Cyrus was glad for it. He had a bit of a headache, and if the café had been too busy, he might not have been able to handle it. And that would’ve been a shame, because it was his and Buffy’s weekly gossip session. He wouldn’t miss it for the world.
He sidled up to Buffy’s table with a devilish grin already taking hold of his face. “Did you hear about Meredith Wheeler and Jesse King?”
“Ooh, no! Tell me!” Buffy exclaimed.
“Karen Tucker caught them making out under the bleachers.”
Buffy’s eyes widened. “But Meredith is dating--”
“Marcus Bennett?” Cyrus smirked. “I know.”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
“I wish I had something that could top that,” Buffy shook her head. “All I got is the details on Andi and Walker’s last date. They went to a gallery opening, no surprise there.”
“I guess I win, then.” Cyrus laughed.
“Gossip is not a competition,” Buffy huffed.
“I thought everything was a competition with you.”
“Oh,” Buffy scoffed. “You don’t want to start a banter battle with me.”
“Hit me with your best shot,” Cyrus popped a Baby Tater into his mouth. “This is a free drag. Don’t squander it.”
“Okay,” Buffy paused, probably for dramatic effect, and then spoke evenly. “When are you going to put poor Jonah out his misery?”
“What?”
“C’mon, you can’t seriously be that oblivious. The way he looks at you, like a little lost puppy dog? All the romantic things he’s done for you? The heart cookies, the song at the talent show? Jonah is crazy about you.”
“The cookies were for all of us, and he only sang that song because he knows I like it,” Cyrus crossed his arms. Jonah did not have feelings for him. That was impossible.
“The cookies were for you, why else would he have been there early?”
Cyrus didn’t say anything.
“To give you the cookies before Andi and I got there. And the song? The love song he performed at the talent show, and said that you ‘inspired the choice’? Are you kidding?” Buffy’s voice cracked with the force of her disbelief.
Cyrus bit his lip. “But...I mean….He’s straight.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? Has he told you that?”
“No, but! He liked Amber, and Andi.”
“You dated Iris, and besides, every heard of bisexuality?”
Cyrus sighed. “Point taken.”
Buffy gave a look that seemed to say: I’m always right.
“But I...He’s so...And I’m so…” And then it finally hit Cyrus. The box of chocolates. “I really like you.” The look on Jonah’s face as he’d left. He’s been trying to tell me this whole time, hasn’t he? Oh, God, I’m so stupid.
“Cyrus?”
“I….I have to go.” Cyrus stood up from the table. "Sorry."
“Don’t apologize. Go get your man!”
And then Cyrus was running, running, running. Down the street, past the bank, hooking a right at the gas station, and then he was standing in front of Jonah’s door, sweaty and breathless, cheeks pink, hair messy. He hesitated for a moment, catching his breath, and then knocked.
Jonah’s eight year old sister, Julie, answered the door.
“Cyrus!” she shrieked in delight at the sight of her second favorite babysitter (after her big brother, of course).
“Hey, Julie. Is Jonah around?”
“He’s practicing his guitar. I’ll go get him.”
And then Jonah was there, standing in front of him, in his Space Otters jersey and blue jeans and Cyrus couldn’t think of a single word.
“What’s up, Cy?”
“I…” Cyrus gulped, trying to catch his breath, though whether his heart was pounding from the run or the boy in front of him, he couldn’t say. “Uh.”
“Cyrus?”
“I’m sorry.” Once the words started they didn’t stop. “I’ve been such an idiot. This whole time, you’ve been trying to tell me how you feel, and I’ve been so oblivious.”
“Oh…” Jonah looked down at his feet.
“Jonah, look at me,” Cyrus said firmly, and Jonah did so, slowly. “The only reason I didn’t hear what you were trying to say, was because I wasn't listening. I didn’t think it was possible that you could like me the way that I like you. I mean, God. You’re charming and athletic and handsome, and you can cook! And I’m just...Cyrus.” Cyrus took a deep breath. “I know I’ve probably been hurting you, but I promise I didn’t know what I was doing. And I really like you a lot. So, can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
“Cyrus…” Jonah’s voice cracked. “I don’t know…”
Cyrus’s heart sank.
“You might have to buy dinner to make it up to me.”
Jonah winked and Cyrus almost fainted.
“I’d love to.” Cyrus took a step toward Jonah, looking up into his sparkling green eyes. “Does, uh, Friday night work for you?”
Jonah mirrored Cyrus’s movements, and then somehow they were close enough for Cyrus to feel Jonah’s breath on his cheeks. “Friday sounds great.”
“G-Great.”
They stood there, silent, in the threshold to Jonah’s home, for the longest seven seconds of Cyrus’s life, before Jonah spoke again. “Cyrus?”
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
Kissing Jonah Beck was nothing like Cyrus had imagined. It wasn’t fast and awkward like kissing Iris. It was uncertain and different, but it wasn’t new, anymore than coming home after months or years away would feel new. It was familiar and warm and slow. Cyrus’s heart was beating so fast he was sure Jonah could feel it.
When they broke apart, Jonah, not ready for the moment to end, pressed his forehead against Cyrus’s and smiled.
“Hey, Cyrus?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m crazy about you.”
“Right back at you, Jo-Lamajama.”
#Andi Mack#Jonah Beck#Cyrus Goodman#jyrus#jyrus fanfic#Buffy Driscoll#mine#my fan fiction#my first non prompt fill jyrus fic!!!#I'm so nervous to post this#I hope y'all like it!
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Chapter 10: Head on Collision
Chapter Log!
Driving down the road it was hard to tell if the vibrations in my hands were coming from the memory I’d had earlier, or from the steering wheel. the moment kept replaying over and over in my head from the second it ended. And still as I drove through the center of my small dead-end town. It’d left me shaking, startled, and even more confused than I’d been before. Not once did any of the other memories, or even Alex in present time as much as hint that we’d ever been something more than friends. Once I’d cleaned up the mess and discarded the totally unsalvageable mug in the garbage, I’d somehow managed to pour a cup of coffee into a fresh mug and retreat back to my father. I asked him almost instantly upon entering his office if I’d been involved with anyone before - being careful to leave any and all names from my question. But he wasn’t much help. He just looked at me with this sort of pointed glaze to his stare. Like he had something to say but was still debating on whether on not to say it.
So of course, I prodded, wanting any possible information to help try and explain whatever the Hell it was I’d just envisioned. “What is it?” A hefty sigh fell from his mustache, “I’m not totally certain if it’s my place, seeing as you were never really one to want to sit down with me and talk about your feelings.” he chuckled softly and rubbed at his sparse grey brow. “But I always had a feeling you and Alex would end up together at some point or another.” All I could do was nod, the heat in my stomach from before swirled up to my cheeks and I'd hung my head in hopes to hide it from my father. Scratching my arm, “But we never did, right?” “No,” He laughed shaking his head and leaning back in his black office chair. “You were always too consumed in living life to bother with boys, at least that's what you’d always said to me.” “Yeah, that, that sounds about right.” I uttered to myself. Not even trying to conceal the sigh of relief that had escaped me, running a hand through my short hair. He'd asked me after if that was all I wanted to know, explaining he'd love to chat more once he'd gotten his last bit of work done. And I took that as cue to lift myself up from the couch, saying that was all. "Alright, well, let me know if you need anything." Was the last thing he said, before swiveling back around. I patted my way towards the door, feet sinking into the plush carpet as I walked. Unsatisfied with the answers I'd gotten from the whole ordeal. All I really needed and wanted to know was what that last memory actually meant. Both to me those years ago, and to me now in my memoryless state. Sometime later I couldn't take it anymore, the sitting around and contemplating a kiss I hardly remembered and had no context to understanding. It drove me insane. Before I knew it, I was back in my car, driving aimlessly around town in search for something, but with no real set destination. It didn't really make sense if I'd thought about it. Thinking in my car was no different than staring blankly at my hands on the couch. But I'd been actively choosing to ignore that and just kept on driving. Just praying I'd find somewhere to go before my gas tank ran low. A strangled sigh ripped through me as I pulled past an intersection. I felt my hands start to turn the wheel with no warning, my mind having a plan of its own. I pulled into a small four building plaza and parked my car. For it being the middle of the day, I saw very few vehicles aside from my own in the lot as I clambered out and looked around. I spotted a small convince store off in the far corner, a local bank, a pizza shop and right in front of where I'd parked my car was an old run-down record store. Trax on Wax it was labeled, on a faded back lit sign. And as I drew closer to it I could see a very small handful of people inside through the large glass windows. The sound of Duran Duran's, Girls on Film softly spilled from the propped open doorway that was guarded by nothing more than a string, beaded curtain. The neon open sign flashed by me in the window at the entry as I made my way into the dimly lit store. A small ding rang through the room from the sensor drilled into the floor. The soft music flowing through the speakers, the stale dusty scent in the air and rough wire carpet under my sneakers almost instantly took me back to the very first time I'd found myself in that music shop. It was October 5th, 2002. And I'd set out on foot bright and early that morning, the first day I didn't have school and was able to finally execute my long-anticipated plan. I was one of very few people inside Trax on Wax that morning, and I made bisque movements through the aisles, searching for the small section that would hold exactly what I'd come in looking for. 'Punk/Pop Rock' was scrawled in sharpie on a flimsy piece of paper peeking out between CD cases. But when my eyes fell on those few words, it could have been written upside down, backwards and six ways from Sunday for all I cared. Lively blue eyes quickly began running over the casings of every CD my sight could reach. Widening slightly every time I spotted one I'd silently been pining for. Only to shrink again once I'd remember the point of my mission. The rather redundant cycle repeated over and over again. My fourteen-year-old self slowly growing more and more irritated with every second that passed when I didn't find what I'd been searching for. Until I did. With precise caution, I pulled the slick case from its secure spot in the row, staring down in complete and utter amazement. It's beautifully pristine shell was still wrapped in crinkly plastic which gave it an even shinier appeal. Anyone watching on probably would have thought that at any second my eyes would pop out of my head and my tongue would unravel like some slobbery dog's. Just staring at it in awe, taking in its sharp black edges, and the vibrant shades of yellow, red and green in the album art. It was Good Charlotte's new album, The Young and the Hopeless. And it was perfect. I'd saved up for weeks to get this once it released, waiting in anticipation, mowing neighbor's lawns, walking their dogs, even scrounging through the couch cushions for change. Just to make sure I'd be able to buy it when that day came. I'd bounced my leg through every class that entire week just waiting for Saturday to roll around and I'd finally be able to walk there in day light to get it. And now I was finally holding it in all its glory. You would have thought I was seeing Disney World for the very first time as I didn’t skip a beat to shove my hand in my pocket and fetch the crinkled cash I'd collected. Only when I did, all that brushed the tips of my fingers were loose coins and a few gum wrappers. My stomach all but sank to the soles of my shoes, face growing red and breath growing shallow. "No, no, no, this is not happening." I muttered only to myself as I put the CD down and frantically shoved my hands in every pocket and crevice in my outfit. Front pockets, back pockets, hoodie pocket, even that small useless one on the front of jeans. But nothing came up. Bankrupt. I looked back at the CD again, slowly picking it up as panic filled my eyes. I needed that CD. There was not a chance in Hell I was leaving there without it. So, I thought quick on my feet, regardless of how morally wrong it would be. Or how long I knew my conscious would be tainted with guilt. My palms were sweating and my knees were shaking and I couldn’t stop my eyes from bouncing around the shop. But I slowly started to snake through the aisles, clutching the disk close to me. I rounded a corner, and when no one could see me I slid the CD into the pocket of my hoodie, sighing loudly and making a casual break for the door. I was a few feet from it, a guilty victory in sight. I was so close to being home free with my dream CD when something stopped me. Someone stopped me. And oh, how badly did I wish in that moment the angel on my shoulder suddenly sounded like a teenage boy. "You're not actually planning on stealing that, are you?" It called, and I quite literally looked to my shoulder. Cringing to my core when I didn’t see a small version of me dressed in white with wings staring back at me. Slowly, I turned around, knowing instantly my cover would be blown once the accuser saw my bright red cheeks and sweat dropped forehead. Never before in my entire life had I stolen anything, and I hadn't been planning too! I'd saved up enough money, I'd just forgotten it and made a stupid, stupid mistake. But it was too late for excuses like that. Down at the end of the aisle a tall boy with a scruffy face and broad shoulders stood with arms crossed. A thick black brow raised at me all too knowingly. And instantly my mouth fell open, indescribable and incoherent mumbles and stutters falling out of it as I tried to think of anything to say to get out of this. I was not good under pressure, and certainly not with angered eyes boring down on me. I started to round up words that might begin to form an apology, my hand reaching for the pouch of my hoodie when something else grabbed it. Well, someone else that is. "Of course, she's not!" A much different voice jumped in, a younger, lighter one. "I told her to pick out anything she wants, on me!" Now even I thought my eyes were going to burst from my skull as I snapped my head over to see a small girl about my age grinning widely back at the individual who'd just caught me. I stared at her for a moment, both shocked and confused trying to pull anything from her appearance to figure who she was or why she was saving my ass right then. She looked strikingly familiar for a reason I couldn't quite pin down. Her long brown hair that resembled mine in color cascaded down her shoulders to the crooks of her elbows in soft, slept in waves. Her tanned boney hand clutching my wrist showed off her chipped pink nail polish, I'd known I'd seen before. But still my mind was coming up blank. "You know her?" The boy asked, breaking me from my scattered thoughts with the very question I'd been asking myself. And I watched with blown eyes as she nodded ferociously. "I have friends you don't know about, Micah." She said, almost picking fun at the boy as I looked back over at him. His arms still crossed and a doubtful expression adorning his rough face. "How do you know her?" He groveled, shifting on his feet. "We have English together!" She said, and things slowly started to piece together how I shockingly really did know this girl. Even though I wouldn’t say being assigned to sit next to one another qualified us as friends. I certainly wasn't about to argue with the girl. "She's friends with Gaskarth's crew!" At this my eyebrows perked up, as did the boy who I assumed to go by Micah's when I turned my head back around to see him staring at me now. Slightly softer look in his charcoal eyes. "You know Alex?" I nodded at the sound of the familiar name. Because on the same standards as saying this girl is my friend because we had just one class together; Alex and I were suddenly elevated from acquaintances to the best of friends anyone has ever seen. And that seemed to be enough for the boy to drop his arms with a sigh of defeat, turning to the other girl once again. "Michelle, are you really paying for her?" He asked, scratching the side of his head. The girl nodded. Quickly she dropped my arm to fish a balled-up wad of ones and fives from her pocket, holding it up to the boy. Something that only made him sigh yet again. "Mom gave you that to last the rest of the week!" She smiled widely again, throwing her arm causally around my shoulders and tugging me into some form of a side hug. "Well, I want to spend it on my friend here!" She argued, "Her birthday is coming up!" Micah huffed a breath and shook his head, but still advanced towards us to snatch the money from the girl's hand. "Don’t tell mom I let you do this." He warned, letting his eyes linger across her face for a moment before they traveled to mine. "It was nice to meet you." He breathed before turning his back and walking towards the back of the shop. "Oh, dear God." I sighed loudly as I weaved my way out from under the girl's arm and turned to her with a gracious smile. "Thank you so much, you really saved my ass right there, I've never tried to do anything like that before, I swear it's so unlike-" "Oh, don’t sweat it!" She instantly cut me off, waving a hand as she smiled and bounced on her toes. "People try and swipe shit from here all the time, but it's not every day I make a friend out of it! I'm Michelle by the way, Michelle Juubie. I don’t know if I've ever actually introduced myself to you in class." "You hadn't," I smiled at her, shaking the hand she put out to me. "Murphy, Kennedy Murphy." "Very James Bond of you!" She smirked, grabbing my elbow and dragging me off into an aisle before she pulled me close. "Also, just for reference if you're going to steal anything again you'll have to do a much better job at it!" She whispered, and I was about to attempt to explain again how I'd never intended to steal it in the first place, but she never gave me the chance. "It's all about the eyes." She told me, "The key is to scan the merchandise with one hand, and without looking over, pocket something with the other." "Uh, thanks?" I chuckled. Watching as she pulled a small tape deck from her own hoodie pocket that I genuinely didn't see her swipe and slide it back into its spot. "Wow, that's impressive? Concerning? I don't really know how to take that!" She giggled, "I think I like you already, we're going to be great best friends!" I laughed at the petite brunette who'd gone back to aimlessly scanning the tape decks and smiled. "Then you should probably know now my birthday is in April." "Well good thing I already know what not to get you!" Blinking away the tears that had slowly begun to form in my eyes, I looked down and noticed the display of tape decks I'd somehow wandered my way over to. Smiling, almost laughing really at the thought of the girl I'd just remembered. I didn’t quite know her yet in this new state of mind, but I knew I would like her as greatly as I had back then. I just had a feeling. "Not trying to steal from us, again are we?" A voice suddenly called me from my thoughts, pulling my attention over my shoulder where I saw her. Sat up on the counter top just beyond a display rack. I watched her flop down from it onto the floor and make her way towards me. "You still owe me that fifteen dollars from the first time you tried." It was like a vision from a dream almost as she sauntered down the aisle with a smile. Dressed now in denim shorts and a faded tee. But to me it hardly looked like she'd aged even a day. Her dark eyes were still as large as they'd always been, smile just as big, and hair just as long and wavy as I'd pictured moments before. And just like that, it hit me. Like a car crash, a head on collision. It hit me that I knew the girl stepping up beside me, looking into my eyes with a knowing, pressing gaze behind them. I knew her, but not like I knew Jack, or Zack, or even Alex really. I didn't just know that I knew her in some stage of my life. I remembered her. I remembered everything about her, about us, about our friendship that had blossomed like flowers in the spring that first day I walked into this store. I remembered every English class after that, sitting with her, passing notes and making jokes which had us laughing so loud more often than not we'd be scolded. I remembered sitting up in this store for hours on end harassing her brother Micah as he tried to work. I remembered Micah, I remembered him constantly teasing me for the poor excuse for a thief I'd been. I remembered having to fake my birthday to him every October just to keep our little act up. I remembered long school lunches, and winter breaks making dirty versions of snowmen with her and the guys. I remembered road trips in the fall, and beach days in the summer. I remembered all the times we'd laughed so hard to mindless television we'd be crying clutching our sides. I even remembered breaking into the principal's office and changing the diploma order just so we could sit beside one another on graduation day. I remembered everything. Like a storm in the summer, the flood of events vanished almost as quickly as it'd came and I was left standing there, heavy in the head from everything I now had crammed inside it. Just stuck, staring back at this girl watching me intently as tears began to brim in my eyes. "JuJuBee?" I practically whispered, a single tear escaping me and sliding down my cheek. And I couldn't even begin to tell you how big her smile got in the split second between her going from standing there worried, to throwing her arms around me. Sobbing now herself, she clung to my frail frame so tight I really did believe she thought if she let go I'd slip away. "Oh, Tweedle Dee!" She sobbed, her pet name for me ringing true, just as ridiculous as it'd always been. "I missed you!" "I missed you too..." I murmured, crying happy tears now at the fact that I could finally say that to someone, and know exactly what it was I'd been missing.
#atl#all time low#alltimelow#all time low fanfiction#all time low fan fiction#all time low imagine#Alex Gaskarth#Jalex#alex gaskarth fanfiction#alex gaskarth fan fiction#alex gaskarth imagine#alex gaskarth oc#Rian Dawson#Rian Dawson imagine#rian dawson fanfiction#rian dawson fan fiction#jack baraket#jack barakat fanfiction#jack barakat imagine#jack barakat fan fiction#Zack Merrick#zack merrick fanfiction#zack merrick imagine#zack merrick fan fiction#bands#band fanfiction#band fan fiction#fandom#band imagine#band imagines
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so spent monday night @ dis cute boys house but we split a bar and basically ended up passing out in like an hour cause we were cuddling and all cozy and shit and then tuesday night he hit me up to come over cause he was driving his friend back to the dorms anyway and could scoop me (he lives close enough to walk but snow, ya know) so he picked me up and I’d been up from addy/was doin lines of addy all night tuesday while i was there so he didnt end up passing out till like 6fkn am but i was wired cause drugs and i spent the next literal five hours while he slept covering my legs and arm w sharpie drawings and honestly it all looks p sick but he only had a bright pink sharpie so now im covered in bright pink sharpie but when he woke up he told me i looked hot as shit all yatted up. so then its wednesday morning and my uni cancelled all classes bc we had a snow storm so we spent most of the day cuddling and watching tv but there were a buncha day drinks goin on for the snow day but instead we smoked and did bumps (lol get it bumps on a snow day) and got a lil drunk and one of his friends was supposed to come chill w us that night but right after they made the plans me and da boy split a bar cause we both needed somethin to help mellow us out from all the addy and blow and laid down on the couch cuddling w a bunch of blankets and basically immediately fell asleep again and it was literally only 8pm but we both woke up at like 3 am and he had a buncha missed calls from his friend but at that point it was whatever so we just went back to sleep and he just drove me home cause he had class. But this boy is so amazing and like i guess we’re a legit actual thing now which makes me happy i jus need someone das gonna treat me right. like he loves lil peep and when we were leaving to go to his friends to smoke/pick up i said something abt how I thought my beanie looked dumb cause its too big and he gave me his lil peep beanie to wear instead (dis is a big deal cause he legit keeps the beanie, a lil peep lighter, and a memorial card on his bedside table its literally a fkn gus shrine) and I used his phone to show him an insta post or somethin and saw a text to his mom that was just like “her name is ana” so like he told his momma abt me he doesnt know i saw tho and later his dad called him and he had him on speaker and his dad asked if he’d talked to Nadya lately (nadya is one of my friends who used to talk to him but then turned pyschotic, this story will be explained later) and he was like “nah” and his dad was like okay good, and boy goes “I got a new friend now actually her name is Ana” and idk it was just fkn cute. and he ruffled my hair dis morning and kissed my forehead and told me i look really cute when i just wake up and hes always complimenting me and is always callin me babe/babygirl/sweetie/cutiepie or mamacita (he only did that once cause we were hoookin up and it was when i took off my shirt) but he also jus calls me ma a lot like “its up to you ma whatever u wanna do” or like how you doin lil mama and idk why but i fuCKING love it. hes short tho like legit maybe shorter than me/exact same height but honestly doesnt bother me at all cause he thinks i’m super tiny cause nadya was 5′7 and hot as in like giant boobs/hips/ass and i’m like 115lbs so he loves that i’m tiny. anyway this is part 1 the nadya backstory will be explained in part 2
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How was AFI?
Oh man, it was honestly a life changing experience. So the concertstarted at 9 pm and me and my awesome friend got there at 12 pm. Oh and did Imention that it was fucking hot?? It was literally 110 degrees, and if you knowanything about Kansas you know that the majority of the heat was humidity. Butluckily when we got to The Midland (which is where they played) we found thislittle crook of shade so we put all our stuff in that and camped out. While wewere sitting there it came out that we were the first people (and almost only)who were actually from Kansas. I spoke to a couple of AFI fans while we werewaiting for hours and most of them were pretty cool and really nice. While wewere waiting I went across the street to the really fancy grocery store to goto the bathroom. I go in and I end up talking to this neat dude whose like anuber fan and has been to almost all the shows on The Blood Tour. While we weretalking it got brought up that apparently Circa Survive wasn’t playing thatnight. Which honestly I was kinda glad about cuz I didn’t really know anythingabout Circa Survive. But I felt so shitty because my friend came with me cuzshe’s a Circa fan! Luckily when I told her she wasn’t upset or anything andsaid she would’ve came anyway. Apparently a lot of other people in line alsodidn’t know that Circa wasn’t playing, but no one was mad about it (I guess alot of people just assumed that because all the other shows on this leg of thetour are with Circa Survive, but I guess KC was the exception.) I was also a little worried because people kept saying thatthe tour shirt didn’t even mention the KC stop on it, but luckily they werewrong! (it doesn’t have the right date on there, but it definitely says KC). Sofinally at about 8 something they start letting us in, and by that point myfriend got like a pinched nerve from sitting on the ground for too long, so sheended up just sitting in the lobby for the concert (which honestly may havebeen a good thing because she probably would’ve gotten crushed in that crowd).I immediately go to the merch table and while I’m buying my shirts my awesomefriend goes and saves me a spot so close to the stage. I get to the spot andthe girl standing right next to me is wearing the same shirt as me! (which isfunny because we were the ONLY people there wearing that shirt. We both knew itwas an older AFI tour shirt, but we both couldn’t remember exactly where we gotit from haha.) She was pretty cool and so was her husband. Before the concertstarted, she leans over and goes, “so you’re gay and I gotta ask… Do you thinkDavey and Jade are gay?? I always thought they were in a relationship.” And I’mjust like ha well they’ve never really straight out said what they’resexualities are, but I know that Davey’s really never been the one for labels.I honestly don’t think they’re 100% straight, but I can’t really say if they’regay or not since I don’t personally know them. (Granted tho they’ve been in aband for over 20 years and if you haven’t been at least a little gay with yourbest friend, then you’re not really best friends haha.) So finally the concert starts and Citizen comes out. Now I had only really heard ofCitizen by their lyric pics on tumblr and a couple of seconds of some of theirsongs. But I gotta say, I was pretty impressed. Besides the fact that there wasn’t a good mic check before playing, I thought it went pretty well. Icould hear all the instruments clearly and that whole band was really puttingtheir all in. It was a little awkward since no one really knew their songs sowe just kinda stood there and listened and clapped. After that performance I’lldefinitely be checking out more of their music. I really wanted to saysomething to them after the concert, but they pretty much grabbed all theirequipment and bolted (they probably just wanted to get back on the road asap.)After Citizen it was about 20 minutes before it finally happened. Adam came outfirst and got set up, then Hunter, then Davey, and Jade. Where I was standing Igot an amazing view of Davey and Jade. Sadly tho I wasn’t able to get any pics of Hunter because he was on theleft side of the stage, and I couldn’t get any pics of Adam during the concertbecause of the way his drums were lit up you couldn’t see his face. They startoff playing Girl’s not Grey and it literally felt like I was seeing the face ofGod. Davey locked eyes with me for like 1 second and then he reached his handright across in front of me and I brushed it with my fingertips because I wasnervous and didn’t want to be pushy. And let me tell you about this setlistholy fuck. So like I said they started off with Girl’s not Grey, then they wentinto Love like Winter (which was the first song I ever heard by them so thatwas awesome), then So Beneath You, then 17 Crimes (which is one of my favsongs/music videos), and then Malleus Maleficarum (which is when everyone losttheir fucking minds and started shoving like crazy), then Get Hurt (which wasthe first time they ever played that live!), then Lost Souls (which is whenDavey stepped into the crowd and I FUCKING TOUCHED HIS BACK HE WAS RIGHT THEREIN FRONT OF ME AND I HAVE VIDEO PROOF), then The Leaving Song pt. 1, then HeWho Laughs Last, then Feed From the Floor (which is also one of my fav songsand I may base my AFI tattoo that I’m gonna get after), then Days of thePhoenix (I could watch them play this song over and over until I die), then IHope You Suffer (which honestly I never really connected with this song before,but watching them perform it live holy shit, there was just so much passion andit literally felt like Davey was singing the song into my soul), then SnowCats, then Miss Murder, then Paper Airplanes, and then Silver and Cold (which wow, it just really struck a chord with me).Davey also sang most of Jack the Ripper (one of my all time favorites)completely a capella! (I also got some of that on video.) During the concert Ialmost lost my balance a couple of times cuz during certain songs people fromthe very back would start pushing and it pushed me into the first two rows ofpeople (which I said sorry about every time it happened just like the girlsbehind apologized when it happened.) Oh and also during the last two songs Igot wedged between these guys that were like a foot taller than me. The guy onthe right wasn’t really excited and just kinda stood there and nodded his head.The guy on the left wore a bright blue shirt (he was in the video that I took ofDavey in the crowd) and he was drunk and a complete asshole. Apparently duringthe rest of the concert he was pushing and shoving the girls that were behindme and made his way next to me. then during the last two songs he startsshoving me to the right (when literally no one else was shoving), I thought itwas an accident at first. Then I realize he’s clearly trying to bump me out ofmy spot, so I start shoving back. Then HE LITERALLY STARTS SHOVING HIS ASS INMY FACE. I had it, I was in the heat all day and about to pass out from toomuch excitement and I was not gonna put up with this shit, so I shoved him realhard and yelled, “DUDE WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?? YOU’RE SHOVING YOUR ASSIN MY GODDAMN FACE I’M A LITTLE GUY JUST LET ME STAND HERE PLEASE”. He fucking turns tome and says, “um you’re being a little rude.” So I was like haha dude whateverand wedged myself in front of him so that I could enjoy the last song. Afterthe concert like six people behind me came up to me to tell me that that drunk guy was an asshole and thanked me for actuallypushing him back and calling him out (they were all my height and the dude was like 6 foot something). A partof me worries that Davey just saw me pushing and thought that I was the assholeor something, but Jade was right there too and we talked after the show and hewas so nice. So after the concert ended me and my friend went out by the tourbus to wait and see if the band would come out. Adam came out first and theperson next to me asked for a pic and he said, “well actually I have a coupleof stuff I need to get. But I’ll be back, is that okay?” Like wow what a sweetguy. So eventually he comes back out and I’m starstruck. I shake his hand andtell him how weird it is to see one of the people I’ve been idolizing since 5thgrade so I’ll try to talk like a normal human being as much as possible, and hesmiles and says he’s happy I had a great time at my first AFI concert. Then Igave him this letter I wrote to the band and I tell him I didn’t want to makeit out to any specific person in the band because you’re all important. I tellhim how much I love AFI and that I don’t ever want him to feel like fans don’tappreciate him because the band wouldn’t be the same without all you guys. Andhe was like aww thanks. And he took a selfie with me and after I took it he waslike, “wait I didn’t see where to look, was I looking at the camera?” so I pullup the picture and he goes oh okay cool I did it right (what a nerd I lovehim). He also autographed this AFI postcard thing that I got with a pendant andThe Blood Album at Bestbuy. And then Jade comes out. And at this point I letsome guy borrow the sharpie I brought and I was scared that I wasn’t gonna haveit when Jade came up, but luckily he had his own (it was a gold sharpie aw). Ishake his hand and tell him how much I enjoyed the concert and how much Iappreciate him and the rest of the band and how it wouldn’t be the same withoutthem there. And he goes, “well you’re favorite band is kinda like yourchildren, you gotta love em all equally” and I’m like ha yea, I have sixsiblings tho.. and he’s like, “oh well siblings are a different thing, we allhave a favorite haha”. And then I told them that this was my first AFI show, buthopefully not my last unless you guys break up tomorrow. And he laughs andgoes, “well that is a possibility. Davey just made a really stinky sandwich, sothat might lead into something.” What a funny guy! We take a selfie and then Iask if he could also sign my card. Now this was pretty funny, when I handed himthe card he flipped it over, then he flipped it back over again and lookeda little confused. He goes, “I don’t recognize this at all, where did you getthis??” and I told him and he looks at my pendant and goes “wow you’re the onlyone here that I’ve seen wearing that, cool!” I just thought it was so funnythat he didn’t recognize that card at all. Then Davey came out and he waswearing that really cute black hood thing he’s been wearing a lot ininterviews, and as he walks by these two drunk girls scream demanding apicture. And he was nice about it and goes No pictures, but I’ll be out later.We waited like an hour and half after that and he was a no show, but honestly Ithink he was just drained (he may have came out after we left but I doubt it.)This concert was a real life changing experience. When I got home from theconcert my grandma started yelling at me and I realized; I accomplished one ofmy childhood dreams, so I’m not gonna put up with shit anymore. I feel like amore complete person. I feel like now I really only want to use my energy onthings that are important to me, and getting yelled at for no reason isn’t oneof them. And also since I wasn’t able to get a pic with Hunter or an autograph,and I wasn’t able to get an autograph from Davey (I don’t expect to get a picwith him since I’ve only seen like one pic of him and a fan on this tour) thisjust means I’ll have to go to another AFI concert! I can’t wait!
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Smartass Quotes: 48 Smart and Sarcastic Lines that Kick Ass
Some days were meant for playing nice, others for firing off smartass quotes to everyone who’s bugging you. Here are 46 quotes to get you started.
Everyone loves a smartass. In fact, people love sarcasm, which makes it a great outlet to get all of that pent up resentment out while slapping a smile on your face. So what’s the most effective way to get out your frustrations while still coming off like the lovable stud/studette that you are? Smartass quotes.
If you have ever been offended by someone with nothing but a gaping mouth and a figurative puff of smoke as a response, you know how tragic a lack of a comeback can feel.
It’s these harrowing situations that wake you out of a sound sleep suddenly fresh with dozens of snappy one-liners you wish you would have said. Nasty ex sniffing around? There’s a smartass quote for that. Friend making bad life choices? There’s a smartass quote for that.
Don’t go through life unprepared! We’re giving you 46 smartass quotes for life, breakups, comebacks, and general advice to live by.
Advice smartass quotes
Sometimes life leads you astray with no one to turn to. That’s where we come in! If you’re looking for a sassier way to go through life, these smartass quotes with advice are sure to help. [Read: 101 awesomely good comebacks for every occasion]
#1 “I always say ‘Morning’ instead of ‘Good Morning,’ because if it was a good morning, I would still be in my bed and not talking to people.”
#2 “Some days you eat salads and go to the gym. Some days you eat cupcakes and refuse to put on pants. It’s called balance.”
#3 “Face your problems, don’t Facebook them.”
#4 “God gave men both a penis and a brain, but unfortunately not enough blood supply to run both at the same time.” – Robin Williams
#5 “You can’t make somebody love you. You can only stalk them and hope for the best.” [Read: 55 funny quotes about love and all its complications]
#6 “Women are like iPhones. You have to touch them all over before they respond. Men are like Blackberries. Rub one ball and everything moves.”
#7 “I love asking kids what they want to be when they grow up because I’m still looking for ideas.”
#8 “I’m not very good at advice. May I interest you in a sarcastic comment, instead?” – Chandler, Friends
#9 “When I feel down and someone tells me to ‘suck it up,’ I get the urge to break their legs with a baseball bat and then say ‘walk it off.’”
Breakup smartass quotes
Love is grand, until it isn’t. That’s when you’ll want to have an arsenal of coy, yet hilarious, comebacks ready in your back pocket. Want to know whether you should be kicking your lover to the curb? These smartass quotes about breakups are sure to help you out.
#10 “Shut up with the back talk, because if I wanted lip from you, I’d sit on your face” – L.A. Casey, Dominic [Read: 11 profound relationship quotes everyone can relate to]
#11 “If you’re cooler than me, would that make me hotter than you?”
#12 “You were my cup of tea, but I drink champagne now.”
#13 “Unless you are a pizza, the answer is yes, I can live without you.” – Bill Murray
#14 “Sorry, I’m not Adele. I don’t wish the best for you, nor do I want to find someone like you. I do, however, want to set fire to all of your stuff.” [Read: All the quotes you need while going through a breakup]
#15 “You cross my mind only on Thursday morning. That’s the day when I take out the garbage.”
#16 “Thanks for dating someone ugly after we broke up.”
#17 “Relationships are a lot like Algebra. Have you ever looked at your X and wondered Y?”
#18 “What’s a Queen without her King? Well, historically speaking, more powerful.”
#19 “I’m going back to living my fabulous life before you interrupted it to remind me that there are still assholes in this world.”
#20 “When your ex says, ‘You’ll never find anyone like me’ reply with: ‘that’s the point.’”
#21 “Today I saw something that reminded me of you. Don’t worry, I flushed and everything went back to normal.”
#22 “My ex had one very annoying habit. Breathing.” [Read: Being single – 30 happy, inspiring quotes for singles]
Smartass quotes to live by
Don’t let someone else dictate how you live your life. You do you, Pikachu. Whether you’re looking to tell it like it is, or offer someone a confusing truth about human behavior, these 11 quotes to live by are sure to help you out.
#23 “It’s better to be late than to arrive ugly.” – Marilyn Monroe
#24 “Thanks for pretending not to see me when I was pretending not to see you in order to avoid a miserably awkward conversation that neither of us wanted to have.”
#25 “Oh, hey, kettle, I’m pot and wow, you’re black.” – Olivia Cunning, Tie Me
#26 “You think I’m cute when I’m angry? Well get ready, because I’m about to be gorgeous.”
#27 “If I’m a sarcastic asshole when I talk to you, it’s either because I really like you and feel comfortable teasing you, or I really hate you and don’t care if you know it. Good luck figuring out which one.”
#28 “The only reason I’m fat is because a tiny body couldn’t store all this personality.” [Read: How to be funny and make people love your company]
#29 “You know a girl is mad when she starts off her sentence saying: “I just find it funny how… ” Because there is a 99.9% chance she did not find it funny.”
#30 “Being an adult is mostly being exhausted, wishing you hadn’t made any plans, and trying to figure out how the hell you hurt your back.”
#31 “My girlfriend woke up this morning with a huge smile on her face… I love sharpies.”
#32 “Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until they speak.” – Steven Wright
#33 “If Cinderella’s shoe fit perfectly, then why did it fall off?”
Insulting smartass quotes
Is someone being a total dick and you’re at a loss for what to say? Don’t go down that road. It’s torturous. You don’t want to be that person who could literally write a book about what you wish you would have said. Here are the best insulting smartass quotes we could find. Because sometimes, people just need to be told.
#34 “I’m actually not funny. I’m just mean and people think I’m joking.”
#35 “Tact is the ability to tell someone to go to hell in such a way that they look forward to the trip.” – Winston Churchill
#36 “I can only please one person a day. Today isn’t your day. Tomorrow doesn’t look good either.”
#37 “If you’re going to be two-faced, at least make one of them pretty.” -Marilyn Monroe
#38 “I’m not insulting you, I’m describing you.”
#39 “Sometimes I wish I was a bird… so I could fly over certain people and shit on their heads.”
#40 “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings when I called you stupid. I really thought you already knew.” [Read: 45 Saddest lost love quotes for the broken-hearted]
#41 “Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.” – Oscar Wilde
#42 “If you ran as much as you ran your mouth, you’d be in great shape.”
#43 “Look officer, I’m not being a smartass. All I’m saying is, if you caught me, then you were speeding too.”
#44 “Keep rolling your eyes. Maybe you’ll find a brain back there.”
#45 “If you want breakfast in bed, sleep in the kitchen.”
#46 “I typed ‘Bitch’ into my GPS and guess what? I’m in your driveway.”
[Read: Ready to charm? How to be witty and win anyone over]
There you have it. From the greats to the random internet memes, this was a list of 46 smartass quotes for life, ex-loves, and general sassiness. Hope that helped raise your smartass quota for the week.
The post Smartass Quotes: 48 Smart and Sarcastic Lines that Kick Ass is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.
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